The Reckless Collision

Chapter Seventy-One

Her words were reassuring, but the sting of doubt still lingered. I stared at her, my chest tight, the familiar bite of insecurity refusing to let go. "But how do I know that for sure?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, quieter than I'd intended, and so raw it made me wince. "How do I know I'm not just... another distraction for you? Especially now, with everything going on. With Rose. With the tour. With... him."

Sam's expression softened even further. She reached across the island, her hand warm as it slipped over mine. Her fingers squeezed gently, steadying me in a way I hadn't realized I needed.

"Ray," she said, her voice soft but unshakable. "Look at me."

I lifted my eyes to hers, reluctantly at first, but once I met her gaze, I couldn't look away. Her eyes were tired but steady, filled with something I didn't think I deserved.

"You're not a distraction," she said firmly, her fingers tightening around mine. "You're my partner. My home. I know it's hard right now—with everything we're both dealing with, it feels impossible to hold it all together. But we're in this together."

I felt a lump rising in my throat, but I forced myself to stay silent, letting her words settle. Her words hit me hard, cutting through the spiral I'd been stuck in. For a moment, I just stared at her, unsure of what to say. The warmth of her hand on mine, the conviction in her voice—it felt like a lifeline, pulling me back from the edge.

I exhaled slowly, feeling a weight lift, even if it hadn't disappeared entirely. "I just... I don't want to lose you," I admitted quietly, the words cracking as they left my lips.

Her expression softened even more, and she leaned across the table, brushing her fingers lightly over my knuckles. "You won't," she whispered. "You won't lose me, Ray. I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting Sam's words settle in, feeling the weight of her trust and belief in us. It was everything I needed to hear, but there was still something gnawing at the back of my mind, something I couldn't shake no matter how hard I tried.

"There's something else," I said, my voice low, and I could feel the shift in the air as her eyes met mine, her expression already changing in preparation for the words I wasn't ready to say.

I opened my eyes, and as I spoke, I saw the flicker of worry in her eyes, the realization that this conversation was far from over. "I have to leave tomorrow. I can only take three days off from the tour, and the band's waiting for me in London to rejoin them."

I watched her hand tighten around mine for a second, her knuckles pressing pale against my skin, but she didn't pull away. I saw her process my words—how quickly she understood, how fast the disappointment flashed in her eyes, before she nodded slowly, her face setting into something more resigned than I wanted to see.

"I figured you'd have to go back soon," she said, her voice softer than usual, as though it hurt her to admit it. "I just... I didn't realize it would be so soon."

My chest tightened with guilt, the words cutting deep as they left my mouth. "I hate leaving you right now," I confessed, my voice strained. "Especially after everything that's happened. But I can't let the band down either. They're relying on me."

She gave me a sad smile, the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I know. I know you have to go. It's just... hard, that's all."

I squeezed her hand, wanting so badly to pull her into my arms, to take away the heaviness hanging between us, but I couldn't change what was coming. I had to go, and she had to stay, at least for now.

The silence that followed hung between us, thick and heavy. It pressed on me like the weight of everything we'd both been through—the grief, the uncertainty, the pressure of what lay ahead. Just as I was about to speak again, Sam took a deep breath, her fingers still laced with mine.

"Maybe I could come with you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and the words took a moment to register.

I blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. "Come with me?" I repeated, my heart skipping a beat. The idea of her beside me, of not facing this world alone— it was like a light breaking through the clouds.

Samantha nodded, a quiet, thoughtful expression on her face. "Yeah. Maybe it's time we both get away from here for a while. Rose was the reason we moved to New York in the first place. Now that she's gone... maybe it's time to rethink where we belong."

Her words hung in the air between us, and I felt a rush of relief flood through me. I hadn't expected this, hadn't even let myself hope for it. But the idea of her with me, on the road, made everything feel lighter, less burdensome. A weight I didn't even realize I was carrying seemed to lift.

"Are you serious?" I asked, my voice thick with emotion. "You'd come with me on tour?"

Sam smiled, the kind of smile that felt like sunshine after a storm, warm and genuine. I hadn't seen her smile like that in days. "Yeah, I did it before. And we could use the time together. I don't want to stay in this big house by myself. It doesn't feel like home without her here. Maybe... maybe we need to figure out what our next step is."

A lump formed in my throat as I reached across the table, pulling her into my arms. I held her tight, the weight of everything—the uncertainty, the grief, the confusion—melting away in that moment. I pressed my lips to the top of her head, feeling her relax in my arms, feeling like we could face whatever came next together.

"I love you," I whispered into her hair, my voice thick with everything I couldn't quite say.

"I love you too," she murmured back, her voice soft but steady.

She pulled back slightly, her hands resting lightly on my chest, her eyes still soft from our conversation, but there was a quiet strength there now, a sense of resolution that made my heart swell.

"So..." she began, her voice tentative but hopeful, "You're okay with me coming with you on tour?"

I let out a long breath, a small, relieved smile curving my lips. "More than okay," I murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I want you with me, love. Always. This tour... turned out to be a lot, and I don't know what's going to happen next, but if you're there, it'll be easier."

"I need to get the ticket," she said.

"We will fly back with jet," I said, Sam lifted your eyebrow. "How did you think I got here? Your dad called and offered the jet with a promise to take me back to London. Your parents coming around, love." I grinned, remembering the time I promised to win over them.

She nodded slowly, then shifted the conversation. "Speaking of my parents," she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty, "I need to tell my dad I'm not taking the job. I've thought about it enough."

"Good idea," I said, giving her a reassuring smile. "He's gonna be mad, though. About the job and the tour."

"Yeah," she admitted.

"Then we are set for the road," I grinned, the weight of our decision hanging over us but suddenly feeling a little lighter.

I felt a rush of hope. We were moving forward, not just physically but emotionally, and the thought of facing it together made everything seem possible.