in the courtroom. For an instant there was silence. Ten years probation. He was free, or as good as. Alex couldn't believe it.
And then pandemonium broke loose in the courtroom.
The lawyers were all shaking hands as Larry and Tom were led away, and Sam stood looking dazed while court was adjourned and photographers from every paper in the country took his picture. Alex couldn't even get to him for the next twenty minutes, and she just stood staring at him in amazement. Phillip Smith had done an incredible job, but so had the judge, and the probation office itself had recommended for probation. They had concluded that Sam was a fool, but not a criminal, and no real purpose would be served by sending him to prison. And as she thought of it, she remembered the five-hundred-thousand-dollar check she had refused to take from him two days before. He was going to find it very useful.
She waited until he was out in the hallway to talk to him. She congratulated Phillip Smith, and the rest of his team, and then suddenly she found herself looking up at Sam, and he was smiling at her, almost shyly.
“This comes as a surprise, doesn't it?” he said, still looking dazed.
“I almost fell over when he said it,” Alex admitted. “I figured you were gone for good.” She smiled and he laughed, feeling new again, just as she had when she'd finished chemo.
“Poor Annabelle …everything we put her through for nothing…let's pick her up at school,” Sam said, and then he looked down at Alex with an odd expression, and spoke to her softly in the lull of the crowd. “Let's go somewhere and talk.”
“What about your hotel?” she whispered in his ear, and he nodded agreement.
“I'll meet you there in half an hour,” he said, and followed Phillip Smith out of the courthouse.
She thought of calling Brock, but she didn't know what to say to him. He had predicted this, and all the complications that went with it. She couldn't face reassuring him again, but worse than that, she wasn't sure what she felt now. She had come to terms with a lot of things the night before, and she suspected Brock had too when he left her. He had never called her.
Sam was suddenly back in her life, with no warning. It made her think of the time they had spent in bed together only two days before, and all the memories it had evoked for both of them. She didn't know anything anymore. She knew she still loved Sam, but did she trust him? Would he be there for her if it happened again, or would he fail her? Were his promises real, or was the nightmare? And where was Brock in all this? What did she owe him, or want from him? But the issue was not Brock now. It was Sam, with all his strengths and failings. The issue was them, and what they would do now. They both knew life gave no guarantees, only promises, and wishes and dreams, and terrible heartache when the dreams were broken.
Her head was reeling as she took a cab uptown to the Carlyle. And when she got there, she found him waiting for her, pacing up and down outside the hotel, as though he couldn't wait another moment. The cab slowed as they got there, and the doorman opened the door for her. And as she stepped out, Sam looked into her eyes, and she knew that Brock was right. They loved each other. It was that simple.
Sam had forgotten the rules for a while but she never had. For better or worse … it was all still there, in spite of all the pain and the heartbreak he had caused her. She wanted to tell Brock he was wrong. She wanted to be bigger than that, to be different, or modern, or very strong. But she wasn't. She was human. She was loyal. And she still loved her husband.
“Hello, Sam,” she said softly as he took her hand, and tucked it into his arm to walk her into the hotel. He was still shaken and stunned by what had just happened in court. He felt very humble, and incredibly lucky.
“Is it all right if we go upstairs?” he asked her politely, and she smiled and nodded, as they went through the revolving door and down the stairs into the lobby.
“It's all right,” she said softly. They were starting over. They were still friends, even though he had hurt her so badly. But she wasn't sure if they were more than that now. There was no way to tell about the future.
She stood next to him in the elevator, wondering what would happen now, how they would put all the pieces back together and try to forget what had happened, what they would say to Annabelle, and what she would tell Brock. It would be hard to tell him, but he already knew. He was packing that morning. They had said good-bye the night before, although neither of them knew it when it happened.
And all her worries seemed to fade as they got out on the eighth floor and Sam turned to look at her. He took out his key and held it for a long moment, looking at her, as she smiled at him. There was sadness in her smile, and truth, and knowledge, and wisdom. They had taught each other so much. So many hard lessons. And Brock had been right, in spite of all of it, Sam was still her husband.
He took the key and turned it in the lock, and gently pushed open the door, and left it standing, as he swept her into his arms, and carried her across the threshold. He looked at her questioningly as he did it, wanting to be sure that it was what she wanted too. But she looked at him and nodded. They'd been given a second chance. A rare, rare gift in any life. They had each gotten a second chance. It was time to grab it, and start over. And as he set her down, she smiled at him, and pushed the door gently closed behind them.
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