When My Car Broke Down in the Desert, I Discovered Who Really Cared

A breakdown in the Nevada desert revealed the truth about my relationship—and showed me who was really there for me all along

Chapter 1: Breaking Down

The engine made one last pathetic wheeze before dying completely.

I slammed my palm against the steering wheel as steam poured from under the hood like a dragon’s final breath. The air conditioning cut out with a mechanical sigh, and within seconds, the crushing Nevada heat wrapped around us like a suffocating blanket.

“Well, this is fantastic,” Sam muttered from the passenger seat, already cranking down his window. “Middle of nowhere, Nevada. Temperature’s probably 110, and we’re officially stranded.”

I stared at the empty highway stretching in both directions—endless asphalt, scrubby desert, and mountains that looked like cardboard cutouts against the blazing sky. My phone showed one measly bar of service. Not a single car had passed us in the last hour.

With shaking hands, I started dialing.

The ringtone felt like it lasted forever. Then: voicemail.

“Hey, babe, it’s me. Our car broke down and we’re stuck on Route 50, somewhere between nowhere and the middle of nowhere. Call me back immediately. This is kind of an emergency.”

I hung up and watched Sam pop the hood with practiced ease. My boyfriend was probably in a meeting. It was Tuesday afternoon—he had that big presentation today. He’d call back soon.

“Let me guess,” Sam said, already bent over the engine compartment. “Straight to voicemail?”

“He’s probably in a meeting.”

“Right.” Sam’s tone was carefully neutral. “Hand me that water bottle from your bag, would you?”

I grabbed the bottle and walked around to where sweat was already beading on his forehead. The engine looked like a mechanical disaster zone—hoses everywhere, metal parts I couldn’t identify, everything covered in desert dust.

“So what’s the verdict, Dr. Mechanic?”

Sam poured water over something that was steaming and stepped back as vapor erupted. “Good news is it’s not the transmission. Bad news is the radiator hose gave up, and possibly the water pump too. Without proper tools…” He shrugged.

My phone buzzed. A text from my boyfriend: In back-to-back meetings until 6. What’s up?

I stared at the screen, feeling something cold settle in my stomach. Back-to-back meetings. I’d said it was an emergency.

“What did he say?” Sam glanced at my phone.

“He said he’s in meetings until six.” I checked the time. It was barely two in the afternoon.

“Four more hours, huh?” Sam’s voice remained neutral, but I caught something in his tone. “Well, I guess we’re on our own then.”

I texted back frantically: Car completely dead. Stranded in middle of desert. Need help NOW.

The response came almost instantly: Can’t talk right now. Call AAA.

“Call AAA,” I said out loud, my voice rising. “Does he think I’m an idiot?”

Chapter 2: The Reality Check

The AAA representative was polite but unhelpful: earliest tow truck was tomorrow morning. Multiple heat-wave breakdowns. Remote location. Very sorry.

Tomorrow morning.

“Tomorrow morning,” I said flatly. “The earliest they can get here is tomorrow morning.”

“Awesome.” Sam wiped his hands on his jeans, leaving greasy streaks. “Okay, new plan. I think I can jury-rig something with the spare hose from the windshield washer system. Not ideal, but it might get us to the next town.”

“You can do that?”

“I can try. My dad made me learn this stuff when I got my first car. Said I’d thank him someday.”

I watched him work—confident, methodical movements—while I kept checking my phone, hoping for something more helpful than dismissive texts.

Another message arrived: Babe, I’m sure it’s not that bad. Cars break down all the time. Just wait for the tow truck.

“Just wait for the tow truck,” I read aloud. “He says it’s not that bad and cars break down all the time.”

Sam paused. “Did you tell him we’re stuck in the desert with no shade and it’s over 100 degrees?”

“Of course I did.”

“And his advice is to wait it out.”

I felt genuine anger rising. “Apparently.”

Before I could answer, Sam straightened up. “Okay, I think I’ve got something here. It’s not pretty, and it’s definitely not permanent, but it might work.”

He’d somehow connected a section of windshield washer hose to bridge the gap in the radiator line. It looked like automotive surgery performed with duct tape and prayer.

“Will it hold?”

“Long enough to get us to civilization. Hopefully.” He was refilling the radiator with our remaining water bottles. “Cross your fingers.”

My phone rang. Finally.

“Thank God,” I answered immediately. “Where have you been? I’ve been texting you for over an hour.”

“I told you I’m in meetings,” my boyfriend sounded irritated. “Look, I only have a minute. What’s the big emergency?”

The words felt surreal. “Our car broke down. We’re stranded in the desert.”

“Okay, well, did you call roadside assistance?”

“Of course I called roadside assistance. They can’t get here until tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow? That seems excessive. Are you sure you called the right number?”

Chapter 3: Desert Springs

We limped into a tiny town after another twenty minutes of nursing the dying engine. The temperature gauge was creeping into the red zone, steam seeping from under the hood again.

“Well, we made it this far,” Sam said, pulling into what looked like the only gas station for fifty miles. “But I don’t think we’re going much further without real parts.”

The gas station looked like it hadn’t been updated since the 1980s. An elderly man behind the counter looked up from his newspaper.

“Car trouble?” he asked, nodding toward our steaming vehicle.

“Radiator hose,” Sam explained. “Don’t suppose you carry any automotive parts?”

The man chuckled. “Son, I’ve got motor oil, windshield washer fluid, and air fresheners. Anything more complicated, you’ll need to wait for Benny.”

“Who’s Benny?”

“Local mechanic. But he’s gone fishing until Thursday.”

My heart sank. “Thursday? It’s Tuesday.”

My phone had been buzzing intermittently. I finally checked it.

Three texts from my boyfriend, each more irritating than the last:

How’s it going? Fixed yet?

You’ve been gone all day. Starting to think you planned this whole breakdown thing lol

Seriously though, when are you coming back? I made dinner reservations for tonight.

“He made dinner reservations,” I said, staring in disbelief. “We’re stranded in the middle of nowhere and he’s worried about dinner reservations.”

Sam looked over my shoulder. “He thinks you planned this.”

I typed furiously: Car still broken. Stuck until Thursday. Cancel the reservations.

His response was immediate: Thursday? That’s ridiculous. Just rent a car.

Chapter 4: The Junkyard Truth

Sam convinced the owner of a nearby scrapyard—a weathered woman named Rosa—to let us search for parts. While Sam disappeared into the maze of rusted vehicles, I tried calling my boyfriend again.

This time, he actually answered.

“Finally,” he said instead of hello. “I’ve been waiting to hear from you. Did you get the car fixed?”

“No, we didn’t get the car fixed. We’re in some tiny town, and the only mechanic won’t be back until Thursday.”

“Thursday? Come on, you’re being dramatic. There has to be someone else.”

“I’m not being dramatic. We’re literally in the middle of the desert.”

“Look, I get that you’re frustrated, but you need to figure this out. I already had to cancel our dinner reservations, and now people are asking where you are.”

People are asking. I couldn’t believe it. “What did you tell them?”

“I told them you and Sam went on some spontaneous road trip adventure and lost track of time.”

“Lost track of time. Our car is broken.”

“I know that, but I can’t exactly tell everyone my girlfriend is stranded in the desert, can I? It makes me look bad.”

The words hit like a physical blow. “It makes you look bad.”

“You know what I mean. Like I can’t take care of my own girlfriend.”

“But you can’t take care of me. You haven’t even tried to help.”

“What exactly am I supposed to do from 300 miles away? I can’t fix your car remotely.”

From across the junkyard, I heard Sam calling out triumphantly: “Found one! This might actually work!”

“Who was that?” my boyfriend asked.

“Sam. He found a part that might fix our car.”

“Of course he did.” There was something nasty in his tone. “Sam to the rescue again.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“No. What did you mean by that?”

“Just that it’s convenient how Sam always manages to solve your problems. Makes me wonder what you’d do without him.”

Heat rose in my chest. “Are you seriously making this about Sam right now? He’s the only reason we’re not still sitting on the side of the highway.”

“Right. Saint Sam never does anything wrong.”

“At least he’s here. At least he’s trying to help instead of making dinner reservations and worrying about what people think.”

“You know what? Call me when you’re ready to come home and stop acting like a child.”

He hung up on me. Again.

Chapter 5: Sam’s Confession

When Sam emerged carrying a slightly used radiator hose, his face flushed with success, he took one look at my expression and stopped.

“What happened?”

“He hung up on me again.”

Sam set down the parts carefully. “What did he say?”

“He said I was acting like a child. That it’s convenient how you always solve my problems.”

Sam was quiet for a moment. “You know what’s convenient? Having someone who actually cares enough to stick around when things get difficult.”

“Sam—”

“No, I’m serious.” He wiped his hands on a rag. “Do you want to know what I did when you called yesterday to tell me you were excited about this trip? I cleared my entire weekend. Took Monday and Tuesday off work. Told my sister I couldn’t help her move because I had plans with you.”

I stared at him. “You didn’t tell me you had to cancel things.”

“Because I wanted to be here. Because spending time with you matters more to me than anything else I had planned.” He picked up the radiator hose. “When’s the last time he canceled something important to spend time with you?”

I tried to think of an example and came up empty.

“That’s what I thought.” Sam’s voice wasn’t angry, just tired. “You want to know what’s really convenient? Having a boyfriend who treats you like an inconvenience unless everything’s going perfectly.”

“He’s not usually like this—”

“Isn’t he? Be honest with yourself. When have you ever had a real problem that he actually helped you solve?”

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. Because he was right, and we both knew it.

Sam worked on the car for the next two hours in the blazing heat. My phone buzzed constantly with messages, but I ignored them all.

Finally, I looked down to see a string of increasingly frustrated texts. Then I noticed something that made my blood run cold.

The timestamp on his “I’m in meetings until 6” text was 2:15 p.m. But his message about having lunch with Chad was timestamped 2:45 p.m.

He wasn’t in back-to-back meetings. He was having lunch with friends while I was stranded in the desert.

“That lying piece of garbage,” I muttered.

Before I could process this, a beat-up pickup truck pulled in. Two men got out, both looking like they’d been drinking.

Chapter 6: Danger in the Desert

“Having some car trouble there, friend?” the larger man called out, swaggering over.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Sam replied politely, not looking up.

“That’s a nice car. What year is that?”

“2021,” I said reluctantly.

“Damn, that’s a nice ride.” The man grinned at me in a way that made my skin crawl. “You two heading somewhere special?”

“Just passing through,” Sam said, straightening up. I could see tension in his shoulders.

“Well, if your boyfriend here can’t fix it, my buddy Tony runs a garage back in town. Of course, it might take him a few days to get the parts. Few days, you’d need somewhere to stay.” The man’s grin widened. “We know a place.”

“Thanks, but we’re fine,” Sam said firmly, moving slightly between me and the two men.

“Come on now, no need to be unfriendly. We’re just trying to help out some stranded travelers.” The man’s tone shifted, becoming less friendly. “Seems to me like you could use all the help you can get.”

That’s when my phone rang. I glanced down and saw my boyfriend’s name. Without thinking, I answered.

“Thank God you finally called back,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear. “We’ve got some guys here bothering us and—”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down,” my boyfriend interrupted. “Guys bothering you? What guys?”

“There are these two men who showed up and they’re being really creepy and—”

“Are you serious right now? You’re calling me about some random people talking to you? I thought this was an actual emergency.”

The two men had heard every word. They exchanged glances, and the larger one chuckled.

“Emergency?” he said mockingly. “Sounds like your boyfriend doesn’t think you’re in any real trouble.”

My face burned with humiliation. “Can you please just—”

“Look, I don’t know what you want me to do about random people in Nevada. Deal with it yourself. You’ve got Sam there, right?”

The line went dead.

The two men burst out laughing. “Boyfriend hung up on you. That’s rough, sweetheart. Sounds like he doesn’t much care what happens to you out here.”

Sam slammed the hood down hard enough to make everyone jump. “Time for you two to move along.”

“Or what?” The second man stepped closer. “You’re going to make us?”

“If I have to.”

I had never seen Sam look like this before. He was normally the most easygoing person I knew. But standing there in the desert heat, he looked genuinely dangerous.

The two men must have seen it too, because after a moment of tense staring, they backed off.

“Whatever, man. Your loss.” They got back in their pickup and drove off.

My hands were shaking as I put my phone away.

“You okay?” Sam asked softly.

“No,” I said honestly. “No, I’m really not okay.”

Sam started the car, and miraculously it turned over smoothly. “It’s fixed. Should get us wherever we need to go now.”

Chapter 7: The Breaking Point

We drove in silence for a while. Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“He hung up on me,” I said quietly. “Those guys were clearly bad news, and he hung up on me. They heard everything. They heard him say it wasn’t an emergency.”

“Yeah,” Sam said, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “I noticed.”

“If you hadn’t been there—”

“But I was there.”

“But what if you hadn’t been? What if I’d been alone?”

Sam pulled over at a scenic overlook and turned off the engine. We sat there looking out at the desert landscape.

“Can I ask you something?” Sam said finally.

“Sure.”

“When was the last time he made you feel safe?”

The question hit like a punch to the stomach. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, when was the last time something bad happened or you were scared, and calling him made you feel better instead of worse?”

I thought about it. Every crisis in the past year—I had called Sam. Every single time.

“I can’t remember,” I admitted.

Sam nodded. “You want to know what I think? I think you deserve someone who would move heaven and earth to get to you if you were in trouble. Someone who would cancel every meeting, drive all night, spend every dollar they had to make sure you were safe.”

“Sam—”

“I’m not saying it has to be me. I’m just saying it should be someone. And it sure as hell shouldn’t be someone who hangs up on you when strangers are making you uncomfortable.”

My phone buzzed. Whatever game you’re playing, it’s not funny anymore. Come home.

“He thinks I’m playing a game,” I said, showing Sam.

I typed back: Not playing games. Car actually broken. Actually stranded. Creepy guys actually bothered us. But don’t worry—according to you, it’s not a real emergency.

His response: Don’t be dramatic. If it was really that bad, Sam wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.

Sam laughed without humor. “At least he’s got that much right. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“Why?” I asked suddenly. “Why do you care so much?”

Sam was quiet for a long moment. “You really want to know?”

“Yeah.”

He turned to look at me, and there was something in his eyes I’d never seen before.

“Because you matter to me. Because when you’re happy, I’m happy. Because when you’re in trouble, nothing else in the world seems important until I know you’re safe.”

The words hung in the air like a confession.

“And because I’ve been in love with you for about two years now, and I’m tired of pretending I’m not.”

Chapter 8: Everything Unravels

The silence stretched between us. I stared at Sam, my mind reeling. Two years.

“Sam, I—”

My phone rang before I could finish. My boyfriend’s name flashed on the screen.

“You should answer it,” Sam said quietly.

I accepted the call. “Hello.”

“Okay, I’ve been thinking. I talked to Chad, and he thinks you should just drive to Vegas. It’s only like two hours from where you are.”

“Vegas?”

“Yeah, you can get the car looked at there, stay in a nice hotel, make a vacation out of it.”

“What about you? Would you come meet us there?”

A pause. “Well, I can’t exactly drop everything and fly to Vegas. I’ve got work. But you and Sam can handle it.”

“You want me to go to Vegas with Sam? Without you?”

“Why not? You guys are already on your little adventure together.”

The word stung. “And what if I said I needed you to come?”

“Look, Sam’s already there. He’s good with cars. I don’t see why I need to fly across the country when you’ve already got help.”

Something cracked in my chest. “Because I’m your girlfriend. Because when your girlfriend needs you, you’re supposed to want to be there.”

“I’m being practical. Sam’s got it handled.”

“What if Sam wasn’t here? What if I was alone?”

“But you’re not alone.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

Hey, this is Jenny from your book club. Got your number from Mark. He said you were on some road trip with Sam. Thought you broke up with him months ago? Confused.

I stared at the message, my blood turning to ice.

“What?” Sam asked, seeing my expression.

I showed him the text. I typed back: I’m still with Mark. Why would you think we broke up?

The response came quickly: Oh, weird. He’s been telling everyone you guys split up. He even brought a date to Tyler’s birthday party last month and said you were seeing other people now. Super awkward.

The ground dropped out from under me.

Chapter 9: The Confrontation

“He brought a date to Tyler’s birthday party,” I said, my voice hollow. “He told people we broke up.”

“When was Tyler’s birthday party?” Sam asked.

“Last month. The weekend I was visiting my sister in Portland. He said he had to work.”

I was already calling him. He answered on the first ring.

“Who’s the blonde girl from your gym?”

The silence was deafening.

“What?” he said finally.

“Tyler’s birthday party last month. You brought a date and introduced her as your girlfriend.”

“Who told you that?”

“Does it matter? Is it true?”

“Look, it’s not what you think—”

“You took another woman to a party and called her your girlfriend, but it’s not what I think.”

“She’s just a friend. People were asking about you, and it was easier to just—I was drinking. I said something stupid.”

“You introduced another woman as your girlfriend because you said something stupid.”

“It didn’t mean anything. It was just one night, and you were gone anyway.”

“I was visiting my sick sister. You said you had to work.”

“Look, we’ve been having problems, okay? You’re always busy with work or hanging out with Sam, and I was feeling neglected.”

“So you found someone else.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like? Explain to me what it’s like when you take another woman to a party and introduce her as your girlfriend while telling me you have to work.”

“You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“Am I? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve been living a double life.”

The silence stretched out.

“Look, can we talk about this when you get home?”

“No. We’re talking about this now.”

“You’re being emotional. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“I’m thinking more clearly than I have in months.”

I looked at Sam, who was watching me with concern.

“It means I’m starting to understand what everyone else can see but I’ve been blind to. Jenny knew we were broken up before I did. How long have you been telling people we’re not together?”

“It’s complicated.”

“It’s really not. Either we’re together or we’re not. Either you care about me or you don’t.”

“Of course I care about you.”

“Do you? Because caring about someone means being there when they need you. It means not lying. It means not introducing other women as your girlfriend.”

“You’re with Sam right now.”

“Sam is my friend. Sam fixed my car. Sam protected me while you hung up on me. Sam has been nothing but loyal and honest.”

“Sam’s in love with you.”

The words hung in the air.

“How do you know that?” I asked quietly.

“Come on, it’s obvious. I’ve known for months.”

“You’ve known for months that Sam has feelings for me, and you never said anything.”

“What was I supposed to say?”

“Maybe you were supposed to care. Maybe you were supposed to want to be the person I called when I needed help. But you were relieved. You’ve been relieved that Sam was here so you didn’t have to be.”

“That’s not—”

“Tell me honestly—when I told you Sam and I were going on this road trip, were you upset? Were you jealous?”

The silence was answer enough.

“You were relieved. And you know what the worst part is? I’ve been feeling guilty this whole time. Guilty for wanting you to care more. But I’m done apologizing.”

I looked at Sam standing in the desert heat, then at my phone—at the lies and excuses.

“I’m saying this conversation is over. We’re done.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m not throwing away two years over one party. I’m ending a relationship that’s been over for months. You already told everyone it was over. I’m just making it official.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“No. The mistake was staying this long.”

I hung up and blocked his number.

Chapter 10: The Diner Showdown

We’d been driving for about an hour when we reached a small roadside diner. Sam pulled in.

“I’m starving. And I could use some air conditioning.”

The diner was timeless—red vinyl booths, checkerboard floor. We slid into a booth by the window, and I finally felt myself starting to relax.

“So,” Sam said after we’d ordered. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly? Like an idiot. Two years, Sam.”

“You’re not an idiot. You trusted someone who didn’t deserve it.”

Before I could respond, the bell above the door chimed.

And there he was. My ex-boyfriend, walking into the diner.

“How did he find us?” I whispered.

“GPS probably,” Sam said.

My ex spotted us and strode over, looking furious.

“We need to talk,” he said, ignoring Sam.

“No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do. You can’t just blow up our entire relationship over a misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding? You introduced another woman as your girlfriend. You told people we broke up. What part is a misunderstanding?”

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed, glancing at other customers.

“Why? Worried about what people will think?”

“This is between us.”

Sam leaned back. “Funny how you’re concerned about privacy now.”

My ex glared at Sam. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Actually, it does. I’m the one who’s been taking care of your girlfriend while you’ve been playing house with someone else.”

“And I’m sure you’ve been a perfect gentleman. I’m sure you haven’t been trying to turn her against me.”

“I didn’t have to. You did that yourself.”

My ex’s face reddened. “You think you’re so noble? Saint Sam, always ready to swoop in.”

“At least I swoop in. You just hang up.”

“That’s enough,” I said.

But neither was listening.

“You want to know the truth?” my ex said, his voice getting louder. “She’s been using you for years. Every time she has a problem, she calls you. And you come running like a lovesick puppy.”

The trucker at the counter had turned around. The elderly couple was watching.

“And you know what she does after? She comes home to me. Doesn’t mention you unless it’s to complain about how you’re always hanging around.”

I felt like he’d slapped me. Sam’s face had gone pale.

“That’s—” I started, then stopped. Because there was a grain of truth. I had complained about Sam sometimes. But I’d said those things because my boyfriend had made me feel guilty.

“See? She’s been stringing you along, and you were too pathetic to see it.”

That’s when Sam stood up.

“You want to call me pathetic? Let’s talk about pathetic. Pathetic is lying to your girlfriend for months. Pathetic is bringing dates to parties while she’s taking care of her sick family. Pathetic is hanging up on her when she’s scared.”

“I never—”

“Pathetic is driving 300 miles to hunt her down because you’re terrified she’s going to tell people what you really are.”

“What I really am?”

“A coward. A liar. A man so insecure that you’re threatened by someone who actually gives a damn.”

The entire diner had gone silent.

My ex looked around, then doubled down. “You want to know what’s really going on? My girlfriend ran off with another man, and now she’s trying to make me look like the bad guy.”

The trucker snorted. “Caught doing what? Having car trouble?”

“She planned this whole thing.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” I said firmly, standing up. “And I didn’t plan anything. My car actually broke down, and Sam actually fixed it while you were actually on a date with another woman.”

“That was a mistake.”

“No,” I said, my voice carrying through the diner. “The mistake was thinking I deserved to be treated like garbage for two years.”

“Two years?” the elderly woman piped up. “Honey, you wasted two years on this fool?”

“Well, good riddance,” the trucker said.

My ex whirled around. “This is none of your business.”

“You made it our business when you started yelling,” the waitress said. “And for what it’s worth, any man who hangs up on his girl when she’s in trouble isn’t worth the dirt on her shoes.”

The trucker stood up—a big man. “I know a man who takes care of business when I see one.” He nodded at Sam. “And I know a boy who makes excuses when I see one too.”

“This is insane,” my ex said.

“Been married 43 years,” the elderly man said. “That boy there—he’s got the heart of a man who’d move mountains for his woman. You? You got the heart of a boy who’d let his woman move the mountains herself.”

My ex looked around desperately, but every face was hostile.

“Fine. You want him? You can have him. But don’t come crying to me when you realize he’s not the man you think he is.”

“The only thing she’ll regret,” Sam said, “is not figuring out what you really were sooner.”

“And what am I exactly?”

Sam looked at him for a long moment, then said simply: “Gone.”

It wasn’t angry or dramatic. Just a statement of fact.

My ex stormed out. The bell clanged violently behind him.

The tension evaporated. The trucker bought our lunch. The elderly couple invited us for dessert. The waitress refused to let us pay for coffee.

“Forty-three years,” the elderly woman said, patting my hand. “And I’m telling you, honey, that boy’s got the look. The look my Harold had when he was courting me. Like you hung the moon and stars just for him.”

Chapter 11: Moving Forward

Twenty minutes later, we were back in the car, heading west toward the mountains.

“So,” Sam said. “That happened.”

“That happened.” I looked at him. “Thank you. For everything today.”

“You stood up to him too. That speech about deserving better—that was all you.”

“I meant it. About being done settling for less.”

“Good. You shouldn’t settle. Not ever.”

We drove in comfortable silence, the desert giving way to mountains. The sun was setting, painting the sky orange and pink.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“What you said back at the overlook. About being in love with me. Did you mean it?”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Every word.”

“And you’ve really felt that way for two years?”

“About two and a half, actually.”

I looked out at the landscape, then back at Sam. Really looked at him—the strong hands that had fixed my car, the patient eyes that had watched me figure out the truth, the steady presence that had been there through everything.

“I think I’d like to find out what it feels like to be with someone who actually wants to be with me.”

Sam glanced over, hope flickering in his expression. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I reached over and took his hand. “I think I’d like that very much.”

He squeezed my fingers gently, and for the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt like I was exactly where I belonged.

My phone buzzed one last time. A text from my ex: You’re making the biggest mistake of your life.

I deleted it without reading the rest, then turned the phone off completely.

Some mistakes, I thought as we drove toward the mountains, were actually the best decisions you never knew you wanted to make.