Guilt gnawed at Sam's insides.
They were sitting on the hospital's terrace, coffees getting cold in front of them as Vicky was being examined. The paramedics had administered some drug to counter the effects of the bottle of sleeping pills she had ingested before whisking her to the hospital. Charlie hadn't said much since they found... no he found Vicky. He kept staring at Sam.
Sam refused to look at his cousin. He was right to be upset. Sam should have listened to him. No matter his personal issues with Vicky, a plea for help should never be ignored. Suicide was serious. Always.
But this was the problem. This was exactly what he had been waiting for, fearful of, dreading, since walking away from her all those months ago. He knew she was out there.
It was only a matter of time until she popped up again. But when? How would she force herself into his world? What excuse would it be this time?
Did Vicky know Ali was out of town when she called last week? It felt planned. Like the call today. He had been sure the voicemail was staged. Another manipulation of Sam Vicky-style. Using his feelings against him. For the first time, he wanted to resist the pull at his heart to help her. To make things better for Vicky.
And look where it got them. Vicky in serious trouble. Charlie angry at him. Sam feeling guilty. Again.
"What happened?" Charlie's question pulled Sam back to the terrace. Black wrought-iron tables and chairs spotted the space, matched by lush potted plants and blooming hanging baskets. It all worked to give the air of civilized sanity, despite the chaos running rampage a few halls over in the emergency room.
"I guess she took all those sleeping pills."
"No. I mean yes. But that's not what I'm asking. What happened between you and Victoria?"
Sam tried not to groan. The warmth of the sunny afternoon was turning into a humid heat that made a cold sweat trickle down the back of his neck. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Bullshit." Charlie spat the swear word at him. "She was helping you with the charity ball, you two were all chummy and then suddenly she disappears. Doesn't even show up for her own event."
Sam shifted in his seat and swallowed hard. This was not something he wanted to discuss. But Charlie pushed on.
"And whenever anyone mentions her, you do that." The man pointed to Sam's hands which were currently bunched into balls. Forcing his fingers to stretch out and rubbing his palms on his thighs, Sam searched for a way out of this conversation.
Silence hung between them. Sam could feel Charlie's rage rolling off of him like steam from a kettle starting to boil. Did he think Sam had hurt Vicky? Given his mother's issues and despite his outward appearance, Charlie was always quick to defend women. Mix in a suicide attempt and no wonder his anger was pointed at Sam.
"Did you sleep with her?"
"What!" Sam yelped, before blurting, "The exact opposite."
"Um, so you didn't sleep with her?"
"More like wouldn't," Sam mumbled.
"You're not making sense."
Sam looked around the patio expecting to find staring patrons gawking at two men blatantly discussing having or not having sex on a sunny afternoon. Placing his head in his hands, Sam sighed. "You wouldn't understand."
"I'd like to." There was a kind of tenderness in Charlie's low plea. It pulled at Sam.
Maybe it was because he could not stand his cousin looking at him that way or maybe it was because he needed to tell someone other than Ali and his therapist. He wasn't sure why he did it, but when he opened his mouth everything came pouring out.
As Sam relayed what happened with Vicky, he felt disconnected from his body. He heard himself, sounding like the voiceover in a documentary, emotionless, stoic, spitting out the events of last winter. Vicky luring Ali to her home. Ali finding him in Vicky's bed. Him waking up confused. Ali accusing Vicky of drugging him. Vicky admitting, she had.
Wishing that was the worst, Sam pushed on, throwing up the rest. The revelation of what happened in high school, episodes where he thought he had passed out drunk in actuality a result of her drugging him. Then dropping the biggest bombshell – out of fear of losing him, how Vicky had called Thomas that fateful night. She was the reason Thomas was dead. But she let Sam think for years it was his fault.
Throughout the tale, Charlie listened mostly in silence, interjecting a few softly spoken swear words after each disclosure. When Sam finished talking, neither man moved for a spell.
"I'm-" Charlie started.
"Don't say you're sorry. Anything but that." Sam felt the muscles across his shoulder tighten. He could not stand pity, especially from his cousin, his only living brother.
"I was going to say I'm confused."
It was not the response Sam had expected.
"What's wrong with her? Why would Vicky do such a thing?"
The tension in his shoulder blades eased. "I keep asking myself the same thing. I don't know. She's...I don't know."
"She's off her rocker is what she is."
Despite the situation, Sam found himself smiling at Charlie's passion. That his cousin reacted this way felt... good.
"How ..." Charlie was shaking his head.
And there it was. The assumption it was his fault. That he let it transpire. Ali had assured him it wasn't on him. Vicky was to blame. Sam wanted to believe her. Yet in the back of his mind he knew the world would not see it this way. Until it happened to him, he would not have believed it either. Big strong men don't get taken advantage of five-foot-nothing women. They let it happen. Or worse, encourage it.
He started to protest, trying to form the words "it's not my fault," even if he didn't really believe them. But Charlie was talking over top of him.
"You gotta stop doing this to yourself. This saviour complex is hurting you."
Wait. What was Charlie saying? He wasn't blaming him for letting Vicky do this to him. Rather, he was accusing him of something else. "Saviour complex?"
Charlie shifted beside Sam. He could feel the other man staring at him. "Yes, Sam. Saviour complex. You have this need to make everything okay for everyone around you, even at your own expense. Hell, mostly at your own expense." Charlie's words were soft but firm. "You saved Vicky from being an outcast in high school. You tried to save your parents from the loss of their son by attempting to take his place. It nearly killed you. When you finally escape, find a life in California, what do you do? You make a deal with your father to give up that life all to save Ali from her ex-husband."
Sam had no idea Charlie felt this way. He had never said anything like this to him before. Good-time Charlie was gone, replaced by insightful Charlie. How long had he felt this way?
It was not a saviour complex. It was simply in his nature to be helpful. A desire to make other people's lives better. He could still see the sad look on Ali's face when he first met her. Oh, how he had wanted nothing more than to take her pain away.
"Even with me. Like last month when you got Emily to get me out of jail."
It was true. Sam had called her instead of the family lawyer to avoid Charlie's father from finding out about the incident. The man would have gone ballistic at the concept of a possible tarnish on his solid gold son's reputation.
"When are you going to save yourself, Sam?"
The question struck home, releasing a torrent of sensations Sam was not prepared for. Hot tears pricked at his eyes and he had to resist wiping them away. Charlie stood up and walked toward the edge of the patio. Taking the moment of privacy it offered, Sam struggled to get his emotions under control.
"I..." Sam cleared his throat. "I don't know what to do," he admitted.
Charlie turned around and the two men met eye to eye. "Well, first off we figure out this Vicky situation. It's obvious she's not going to give up."
"I'm not reporting her." Ali wanted him to go to the police, get what Vicky had done on record. He couldn't do it. When they had discussed it, they had researched abuse cases where men accused women. The results were dismal at best. Such cases were rare, not because they did not happen but because they were hard to prove. They were even harder to win. The stigma of 'this couldn't happen to a man' was powerful and kept most men silent. It kept Sam silent.
His therapist had not come right out and said he wanted Sam to press charges. But he implied it in every session. Like it was inevitable and Sam should get it over with.
Charlie pursed his lips. "I get it." His cousin had no idea what those three little words meant to Sam. Someone was on his side. Finally, someone understood. At that moment, Sam had an urge to hug the other man.
"But we need to get her out of your life. The way I see it, the best way to do that is to get her some help – like professional help."
Sam looked down at the floor, "She won't go for it. I know her."
"Well, we'll just have to find a way to convince Vicky." Charlie walked over the Sam and put a hand on his shoulder. "Won't we?"
"We?"
Charlie flashed his movie-star smile. "One for all."
"And all for one."