Never Let You Go by Desmond Haas Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Desmond Haas
the same without him. Sam wasn’t finding any positions in the UK. It was a terrible time to be looking for a new job, especially in London.
A little over a month after he had gone back to the states, the calls and emails suddenly stopped. I tried calling him, but there was no answer. I left four or five voice mail messages that he didn’t return.
Tormented with guilt because I’d never told him I loved him, I didn’t see how I could ever fill the void in my life with Sam gone. I was certain the distance and inability to properly communicate was responsible for Sam losing contact with me.
I called Linda. “I’m sure the reason why he hasn’t contacted me is he’s found someone else. Oh, God, Linda, I don’t know what I would do if I found out he doesn’t want me.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “That’s pure rubbish, and you know it. There is a perfectly good explanation for this. Sam loves you.”
“I never told him I love him,” I said. “I wish I had, but I didn’t want to because I was afraid of this.”
I rang off with her and put myself to bed, depressed and sick with dread that I’d never see him again. My stomach churned and I couldn’t stop weeping. A while after I took to bed, my doorbell rang. I knew it had to be Linda; she’d never let me wallow in self-pity. She sat me on the couch and hugged me while I cried. After I shed my tears, we shared some wine, and I talked about all the good times I’d had with Sam, repeating how much he meant to me. I experienced tearful breakdowns, time and again, succumbing to thoughts of abandonment and being without him.
Near eleven, I told Linda it was too late for her to go home, and she should stay. There was no reason why she couldn’t get up early enough to get home and change for work. She agreed and, as I was finding something for her to wear to bed, the telephone rang.
Thinking it was Sam, I rushed to get it.
“Is this Marisa Seaforth?” a woman’s voice asked.
“Yes, it is. Who is this?” I asked. Getting a call from a stranger at this hour can’t be good news.
“This is Judith Anderson, Sam’s mother.”
“ Oh, God, ” I thought. “Has something happened to Sam?”
“Yes. He’s been in an accident…a bad accident. A truck…I think you call them lories over there…a truck ran him off the highway, and he went down a ravine.”
“Is he alive? How bad is it?”
I held the telephone just off my ear, so Linda could listen too. She had her hand over her mouth in shock.
“It’s not good. He’s in critical condition with a spinal cord injury and some burns on his right side. He’s stable now, but the doctors are cautious and say if he survives the next 48 hours, he may make it.”
“How did you find me?” I asked.
“After they had him stabilized him, I went to his apartment. Marisa, he’s done nothing but talk about you since he came back from London. I know he cares for you quite deeply, so I went in his computer to see if I could find some way to contact you. I called his company, and after telling them about his accident and pleading with them, they gave me your number.”
“I’m so happy you did. I didn’t know what to do when he didn’t call or write. Will you call me if there are any changes in his condition?”
“I think this is an obvious question after reading some of your messages, but do you love him?”
“I do. I do with everything I am. I love him so much and wish I could be there with him.”
“I wish you could as well. If you want to come here and be with him, please let me know. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll call you as soon as there’s any change in his condition.”
After I rang off with Judith, Linda held me and comforted me. Hours passed before I fell into an exhausted sleep. The next morning, I called David and told him I wouldn’t be in, and he understood.
The rest of the day was a blur. I needed to get out of the house, so I traveled to London and walked around, mostly in tears.
A little over a month after he had gone back to the states, the calls and emails suddenly stopped. I tried calling him, but there was no answer. I left four or five voice mail messages that he didn’t return.
Tormented with guilt because I’d never told him I loved him, I didn’t see how I could ever fill the void in my life with Sam gone. I was certain the distance and inability to properly communicate was responsible for Sam losing contact with me.
I called Linda. “I’m sure the reason why he hasn’t contacted me is he’s found someone else. Oh, God, Linda, I don’t know what I would do if I found out he doesn’t want me.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “That’s pure rubbish, and you know it. There is a perfectly good explanation for this. Sam loves you.”
“I never told him I love him,” I said. “I wish I had, but I didn’t want to because I was afraid of this.”
I rang off with her and put myself to bed, depressed and sick with dread that I’d never see him again. My stomach churned and I couldn’t stop weeping. A while after I took to bed, my doorbell rang. I knew it had to be Linda; she’d never let me wallow in self-pity. She sat me on the couch and hugged me while I cried. After I shed my tears, we shared some wine, and I talked about all the good times I’d had with Sam, repeating how much he meant to me. I experienced tearful breakdowns, time and again, succumbing to thoughts of abandonment and being without him.
Near eleven, I told Linda it was too late for her to go home, and she should stay. There was no reason why she couldn’t get up early enough to get home and change for work. She agreed and, as I was finding something for her to wear to bed, the telephone rang.
Thinking it was Sam, I rushed to get it.
“Is this Marisa Seaforth?” a woman’s voice asked.
“Yes, it is. Who is this?” I asked. Getting a call from a stranger at this hour can’t be good news.
“This is Judith Anderson, Sam’s mother.”
“ Oh, God, ” I thought. “Has something happened to Sam?”
“Yes. He’s been in an accident…a bad accident. A truck…I think you call them lories over there…a truck ran him off the highway, and he went down a ravine.”
“Is he alive? How bad is it?”
I held the telephone just off my ear, so Linda could listen too. She had her hand over her mouth in shock.
“It’s not good. He’s in critical condition with a spinal cord injury and some burns on his right side. He’s stable now, but the doctors are cautious and say if he survives the next 48 hours, he may make it.”
“How did you find me?” I asked.
“After they had him stabilized him, I went to his apartment. Marisa, he’s done nothing but talk about you since he came back from London. I know he cares for you quite deeply, so I went in his computer to see if I could find some way to contact you. I called his company, and after telling them about his accident and pleading with them, they gave me your number.”
“I’m so happy you did. I didn’t know what to do when he didn’t call or write. Will you call me if there are any changes in his condition?”
“I think this is an obvious question after reading some of your messages, but do you love him?”
“I do. I do with everything I am. I love him so much and wish I could be there with him.”
“I wish you could as well. If you want to come here and be with him, please let me know. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll call you as soon as there’s any change in his condition.”
After I rang off with Judith, Linda held me and comforted me. Hours passed before I fell into an exhausted sleep. The next morning, I called David and told him I wouldn’t be in, and he understood.
The rest of the day was a blur. I needed to get out of the house, so I traveled to London and walked around, mostly in tears.