Remorse

Allison

---

Another betrayal. That was what he'd thought when it first came to him. The
third so far - more, probably, if he really thought about it. And it hurt
worse because it wasn't even really an act of betrayal, it was a thought -
internalized, and uncontrollable, and unintentional, just there. That was
the real issue - how someone he counted a friend could . . . and he couldn't
even be angry, although he'd tried, because you can't control a thought.
Having an opinion could not be someone's fault. Even when that opinion was
wrong, and hurt.

Was it wrong? He'd thought about that long and hard while he was tossing
suger packets. He wasn't that kind of egomaniac, was he? Josh never treated
him that way - as if he had to be flattered - and certainly Mallory never
had. In fact, he'd liked Mallory because she never flattered him. Ever.
But Ainsley had tried it - had openly admitted to trying it - and it had
worked. Had it worked because he was that vulnerable to flattery, or because
he liked Ainsley and would have given in anyway with enough of an excuse?
Certainly he had enjoyed her little flirtation, enough to actually tell Leo
about it. But Ainsley was on a whole different level; with her he felt he
had to keep the upper hand because she was far too good at making him look
stupid. That shouldn't happen with ordinary - with friends.

And on the other hand, Stephanie Gault had gotten to him. Right where she'd
aimed. So right or wrong, it had worked. It worked. A sugar packet
ricocheted off the rim with a ping.

His anger seethed under the surface. He couldn't deal with her right now.
He was seriously afraid that he might stop throwing things across the room
and start throwing them at her, and he was glad they were only sugar packets.
But it wasn't anger; it was hurt, and it got out.

His question struck its target easily; she recoiled, looked repentant,
apologized, confessed. But it didn't matter. Apologizing after the betrayal
didn't make it less of one. People nominated for an executive pardon had to
show remorse, but it didn't mean they hadn't committed the crime. It just
meant the government was going to forgive them for it. But probably not
forget about it.

And then she got angry, and under his skin he knew why. He knew she was
protecting her friend. And he couldn't let her get under his skin because
she had already hurt him once and he needed to push her away. But he made a
mistake and the last look on her face wasn't anger, it was sadness. And it
was that look he couldn't get out of his mind when her friend stood before
him, eyes wide and hopeful, begging him to give her good news. Along with
the look he saw over Stephanie's shoulder, half hidden in the shadows - not
sadness, not pity anymore, but trust. It was the look that told him she
still trusted him to be the good guy, whatever else she might - it was the
look that meant he couldn't disappoint her. So he lied, and saw her
shoulders sag in relief and her eyes close for a moment in silent thanks.
And she took that as her cue to wander in, as a signal that it was okay to be
here, and when she quietly said, "Sam's the man," he heard the sadness in her
voice and knew it wasn't pity. It wasn't sadness for him at all that he
heard, it was sadness of her own because she knew she had hurt him. And that
was why he couldn't hate her, because what he saw in her eyes was that it
wasn't an empty apology, but that she understood and felt the hurt and
regretted it. And he heard in her voice the recognition of their
relationship and knew she had interpreted his signal, his "three months"
reference, and knew he was talking to her.

And as he stood blinking back the furious tears at his own lying father he
saw her face and knew she was going to hold him, and that he was going to let
her. Her little hesitation was because they never did this, but her arms
went around him tight and hard and it was both thanks and apology, and he
accepted whatever she was offering. Because she had seen him finally break
down she could do what no one else had, and he was thinking about his father
and forgot she had betrayed him and for that moment she was his lifeline.
She rocked him back and forth the tiniest bit and her arms stayed firm and
her skin and hair were soft against his cheek, and he buried his face in her
shoulder and allowed himself to be soothed. And because he felt that she
loved him he opened up again and told her what he hadn't admitted to anyone
else, that his father's betrayal had shaken his world to the core. She was
sweet, and made him laugh, and when they pulled apart what he saw in her eyes
was connection, and acceptance, and her smile was infectious. And still,
just a little bit, knowing that she loved him made it hurt that much more.

It was because her mask slipped while they were talking in the bar that he
decided to bring it up. Josh was still harping on almost being killed, and
because he was watching he caught the instantaneous,
over-as-soon-as-it-happened look of fear as her heart stopped and her face
paled and then she remembered that it was a joke and it was okay to breathe.
Because he was pretending, and so was Toby, that he hadn't seen her brush her
hand against Josh's thigh a moment later to make sure he was really there.
Because he knew what Josh didn't yet. And because he had known that night
what Josh was missing. That was why he brought it up, when Josh and Toby had
gone to order another round. His voice said softly, "I'm not like that," and
her hand stopped tracing circles on the wooden table and her eyes met his,
and she said again, "I'm sorry."

"I know you are," he said gently, sadly, because he saw that she was. "But
you can only apologize for what you told her - and not even for that, because
I know you were trying to do everything you could to help her. You can't
apologize for having a thought."

He thought she might cry. Her blue eyes tightened up and glistened as they
had down in the Mess, and alcohol always made her sentimental. He could see
that his hurt was giving her pain, and that made his pain worse - because if
someone who loved him this much could think he was an egomaniac, there was
probably some reason to believe he was.

"I don't think you're like that, Sam," she said finally, and he was the one
who looked over her shoulder to make sure Josh and Toby weren't coming back
yet to find her crying. "I don't think you're one of those swelled up
politicians who won't do anything until they've been sucked up to enough. I
don't think you want lip service. I think you want people to like you. And
I knew that you'd want Steph to like you, and that that would mean you would
try for her. And I used that about you, I used you, and I'm sorry." And her
voice almost broke there at the end, and the only thing he could say was,
"You manipulated me."

"I did," she said freely. "I manipulate Josh every day. And there's a line
between getting things done and being wrong, and I wanted to help Steph
because her father was dying and so I crossed it. And I'm sorry."

And there was only one thing he could do then, because even though they never
did it she had opened the door, and so he slid forward and pulled her into
his arms and said, "No, I'm sorry. I overreacted. It's just . . ." And his
voice hitched and she heard it and she moved her hands to his back so that
she was holding him up, and she cradled his head to her shoulder and leaned
against him. And Josh and Toby were coming back but she didn't care; she
turned so that her mouth was near his ear and she whispered, "I love you,
Sam." Had she been merely trying to placate him he would have been
nauseated, but he felt her sincerity in the tone of her voice and the
tightening of her fingers in his shirt and so he pressed her closer and
whispered, "I love you too." Because he had felt her warmth, now and before,
and the discovery of it exhilarated him. Because he knew it from Josh, but
to feel unconditional love from a woman his own age was new and glowing. And
when they pulled apart they smiled at each other again with their noses
practically touching, and they were friends. And Josh's half-teasing,
half-nervous, "Is there something you'd like to tell us?" broke the spell,
and because he heard the nervousness and had seen her face earlier he threw
them a line and said, "Yeah, Donna's given up on you 'cause I'm cuter." And
Josh laughed and Donna blushed, and he leaned close to her ear to say, "Thank
you," before he kissed her cheek. And they got into a conversation about
protesters, and when he caught her eye across the table she beamed at him
without smiling at all, and he knew it was all right.

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