"I deserved to know weeks ago," Sam told her, shaking his head. "Weeks. Before it got this bad. Before you started using words like doubt and distance and all that. But you didn't tell me until now. And even then, I made suggestions. I wanted to help. I wanted to bend over backwards and do even more to see you. But it wasn't enough for you, Natalie. You do remember telling me that, right? That anything I basically said doesn't matter because I wouldn't be her permanently."

He rubbed his eyes when they started to feel gritty and sore. "So, you tell me. You tell me what you want to happen, Natalie. Tell me."