Sam
The flashing red and blue lights in the club are sending my brain haywire. My heart thumps hard against my ribs in tune with the heavy bass music as I press my body against the cold concrete wall. It feels nice against my clammy skin, even though it’s scratching the backs of my arms as I tremble.
This was a terrible idea.
If I can barely get through a night in my apartment without having a panic attack, why did I think a night out in a busy bar was going to be any better?
Because I’m desperate, that’s why. I don’t sleep anymore, too afraid of the nightmares that will come. Going out partying seemed like a better alternative to another lonely night staring at the four walls of my tiny apartment. It’s not though. It’s way worse.
Closing my eyes, I force myself to drag in a deep, shaky breath and hold it, counting to ten as I try to control my overwrought nervous system. Adrenaline is flooding my system, telling me I’m in danger again and that I need to run.
I’m not in danger. I’m in a shitty nightclub that’s not even all that busy, with a group of work colleagues I barely know, just to prove something to myself. But my body won’t listen. It’s gone into a tailspin and I know from experience, there’s only one way to drag myself out of it.
Coming here has backfired spectacularly. All it’s proven is that I’m not alright. My life hasn’t gone back to normal since the fire. And I haven’t got a clue what I’m supposed to do now.
“Sam? Sam, are you okay?” I’m vaguely aware of a familiar voice trying to reach me, but I can’t open my eyes again. All I can do is focus on my breathing, my phone in a death grip in my hand. Finally, I feel centred enough to open my eyes and unlock my phone.
Jeff, a guy from my office, is trying to get me to look at him, to talk to him, but I block him out. I know what will calm me. It’s the only thing that calms me. Jeff looks frantic, so I throw him a bone, gesturing that I need a drink. He runs off to get me some water and I take the chance to slide down the wall to sit on the dirty floor. My beautiful dress is going to be ruined, but I don’t care.
I don’t care about anything anymore. I used to love my work. My career meant everything to me. It’s all slipping through my fingers, and I don’t know how to stop it. My brain doesn’t work like it used to, and I’m beyond frustrated. I was unstoppable, but that night has turned me into a shadow of my former self and it’s not fair. The fire has taken my old life away. I don’t recognise this hollow version of myself, who’s scared, weak, and fragile.
I ignore the disgusted looks of other patrons as they step past me. They all assume that I’ve had too much to drink. Not that I’m slowly falling apart at the seams.
Opening up my voice messages, I listen to the last one I have from him. The only one I have.
Pressing play, I hold the phone to my ear and screw my eyes shut as Sean’s deep voice fills my head and brings me back down to earth. I’ve listened to this message a hundred times in the dead of night. When I’m spiralling out of control, it’s the only thing that centres me. I’m sobbing now, but for a different reason.
I can hear the hurt in Sean’s voice as he asks me where I am.
Like a coward, I snuck out after the most magical night of my life. He got out of the shower to an empty bed with no explanation why I bolted in the middle of the night.
And because he’s the best man I have ever met, he tells me he won’t try to convince me to come back. He just wants me to just call him and let him know that I’m home safe. He begs me to let him help with what I’m going through, and at the very least, to call him and stay in touch.
And like the bitch that I am, even though he helped save my life, I never even did that.
I cling to the phone like it’s my lifeline, playing the message again and again as Jeff tries to force me to take the water. Suddenly Tara is in my face, waving her hand in front of my eyes as she tries to get my attention. Finally, she gives up and resorts to lifting me to my feet by my armpits, steering me towards the front door. She leans me against the wall while she flags a taxi, frowning as she watches me just stare into space. It’s not the first time she’s seen me like this, but I’ve hidden my panic attacks from her since that first time. She was so worried. It was easier to just pretend everything was fine.
There won’t be any pretending after this one.
I don’t remember getting home or falling asleep, but when I come to on the sofa, Tara is whispering in the next room. I’m still wearing my dress, but she’s pulled off my heels and placed them neatly beside the front door. There’s a thick fluffy blanket draped over me which I pull up to my chin and snuggle down into. My throat is scratchy, and my eyes are sore. I’m so tired, but even the thought of sleep has my anxiety going through the roof again. Shame over being such a mess in a public place creeps over me. Anyone could have seen me. I feel like crawling under this blanket and hiding from the world forever.
The door creaks as Tara tiptoes back into the room. I open one eye again when I feel her staring at me. She looks concerned but determined, and I know this isn’t going to be a comfortable conversation for me. We’ve been friends for the last five years since I moved to the city to land my dream job and she let me move into her flat. Two promotions each later, we have our own places but probably still spend just as much time together. She’s like a sister to me, and she’s not happy I’ve been lying to her.
“How long have they been back?” she asks, lifting my feet and placing them back in her lap as she sits down. I wince and grit my teeth to stop the automatic denial flying from my lips.
“Jesus Sam, they never stopped, did they? This entire time!” she shakes her head. She’s annoyed but trying her hardest not to be. “Why did you tell me?”
“I wanted everything to be normal. All I wanted was to forget all about it and go back to the way things were,” I mumble stubbornly, even though I’m aware of how lame it sounds.
“And how’s that working out for you?” Tara asks sarcastically. I turn away and go back to staring at a spot on the floor. “You can’t pretend it didn’t happen, Sam. It’s clearly had a bigger impact on you than you want to admit, and you need to deal with this before it gets worse.”
“I will. I’ll find a therapist and book in for a session. It’ll be fine,” I promise reluctantly, trying to force a smile on, but it falls when I see the way Tara is looking at me.
“A session. Sam, you’re not sleeping, you’re obviously not eating, and I haven’t seen you smile once since you got home. You shouldn’t be working…”
“No Tara, I need to work. It’s the only thing that stops me from thinking…” I panic at the idea of having nothing but endless hours with my thoughts. “And if I tell work, I can kiss goodbye to that promotion. They’ll never give me any good cases if they think I can’t deal with a little stress.”
“A little stress? Sam, you nearly died!”
“Let me try the therapy first. If it’s not helping, I’ll take some time off. Please,” I plead. Tara is a manager in the law firm where I work. If she tells anyone, I can kiss my job goodbye. It’s a cutthroat industry, and they’ll pounce on any weakness you have.
“What about Jeff?” she asks, eyeing me warily.
“We’ll tell him my drink got spiked, but that I’m fine now,” I suggest, and she frowns, not thrilled about the idea of lying to anyone. “Please Tara, please. You can’t tell anyone.”
“Fine, I won’t tell anyone at work. But you deal with this. I’ll come to your appointments with you if you want, or you can move back in with me, so you have someone to talk to?” she offers. Her blue eyes shine with worry as she tucks her black wavy hair back behind her ears. Taking her hand in mine, I shake my head emphatically and fix a weak smile on my face. The last thing I want is for anyone else to see the state that I’m actually in.
“I’ll go,” I assure her, even though the thought fills me with dread. “You don’t need me back cramping your love life.” Tara has a new boyfriend, and he’s practically moved in with her. He seems like a nice guy, and I know they wouldn’t mind, but the last thing I want to be is the third wheel to their new relationship while I’m moping about. Plus, she’d know the extent of how bad things are if she saw me up watching tv at all hours every night.
Tara’s right though. I can’t continue like this. I need to face what happened to me, and what I did afterwards.
That might be the worst part.
SeanLugging another crate of beer into the basement storeroom, I get irrationally angry at an empty box that has the nerve to be exactly where I want to stack these.“What did that box ever do to you?” John comments, as I stomp on it in frustration, before kicking the flattened cardboard across the room. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything else as I turn and stomp back up the stairs. The steam coming from my ears is all the warning he needs to keep his thoughts to himself.In the quiet of the dark bar, I rest my forearms on the counter and hang my head between my arms, trying to calm down. I rarely lose my temper. Or should I say, I used to rarely lose my temper.It’s happening far too frequently lately. What kind of grown man has a tantrum over a misplaced box, for crying out loud?The ringing of my phone worsens my mood further. I’m not in the mood to speak to anyone right now. I reach into my back pocket and pull out the offending device, stunned when I see the last name
SeanJohn happily agrees to look after things at the bar for me for a few days while I take a break. Truth be told, I think he’s relieved to get rid of me. It’s probably fair to say I’ve been moping since Sam left.As I toss an overnight bag into the bed of my truck, I shake my head in disbelief. I can’t believe I let myself be talked into driving hours to see a woman who ran away from me before, and who hasn’t asked to see me now. Talk about setting yourself up for another fall. I’ll probably be on my way home again in a few hours after being told with words instead of actions this time that she doesn’t want anything to do with me. I have a feeling it’s going to hurt just as much second time around.Driving gives me too much time and nothing to distract me. My thoughts return repeatedly to three months ago and I replay the time we had together over and over in my mind. Driving myself crazy and reminding me why I will always need to know that she’s okay. Even if it’s without me.Three
SamStanding under the warm water, face turned toward the spray, I push my hair back from my face and let the water just run down my body. I’ve been in the shower for way too long, and I’m going to be late for work, but I can’t quite make myself leave. It’s warm and cosy, and it makes me long to crawl back into bed. Except I’ve fallen into that trap before. The moment I get back under my duvet, the promised sleep will disappear from reach yet again and I’ll waste another hour staring at the ceiling.At least it wasn’t my usual nightmares about the fire that kept me awake last night, it was a horror show of my own making.Sean. I can’t get him out of my mind.Normally, I lie in the bed, afraid to close my eyes in case when I open them again, I’ll be back in a dark room, coughing, and choking as I try to find the door. Last night, I was afraid to close my eyes because he’d be there, his steady presence and his kind smile. Instead of waking up convinced I could smell burning, I woke up i
SeanStupidly, I convinced myself that I was only here to make sure Sam was fine. That once I saw for my own eyes she was doing well, I could tell her friend Tara to stay out of her business and I’d be on my way back to Grey Ridge. More than likely after re-opening some old wounds, but more at peace knowing that she really was getting on with her life after the fire. And she deserves that.This master plan even included avoiding speaking to Sam. She didn’t invite me here. She wasn’t the one asking me to insert myself back into her life. It’s a bad enough blow to my confidence that she snuck out of my bed in the middle of the night. Never to be heard from again. To let her know I’m still pining for her, and now practically stalking her, would make me look far too pathetic. My male ego is far too fragile to handle it.But all that went out the window the moment I saw her emerge from her apartment block, looking gorgeous as always, but without the usual spring in her s
Sam“Either can I,” I mutter, shaking my head and choosing to ignore the second part of her declaration. Not sure whether to be happy or angry, I settle somewhere around indifferent. She knew where I was. I wasn’t the one who left. She could have come back any time if she really wanted to.Okay, maybe more pissed off than indifferent. But in my defence, it’s for good reason.Ignoring the wounded look in her eyes when I don’t immediately return the sentiment, I grab her hand and steer her toward the nearest coffee stand, ordering her a drink and a donut. A quick look up shows three people from her office pressed to the glass, watching our every move with curiosity. To give us some privacy, I drag her toward the park across the street and settle her onto a bench, watching with frustration while she picks at the damn thing instead of biting into it.“Sean, what…”“Eat,” I snap, cutting her off, and she fires a withering look at me that would cut a lesser man in
SamMindlessly, I let Sean lead the way into my apartment. As he stands in the centre of my small living room, looking even larger in the tiny space, I kick off my shoes and dump my bag on the coffee table.I can’t believe he’s here. Ever since I left, I’ve dreamt of him coming here to drag me back to Grey Ridge, but that’s not why he’s here. After what I did, I suppose I should be grateful he’s even speaking to me.Trying not to be obvious, I take a moment to admire him. He looks even better than I remembered because life’s cruel like that. Dark jeans and a battered leather jacket make him look sexy and dangerous, a lethal combination for a thrill-seeker like me. Or like I used to be.When he turns to face me, a lump forms in my throat. He looks like he can’t wait to get out of here. I can’t blame him. What kind of awful person just runs out on the man who helped save her life? Who took care of her when she needed it? Who made her feel loved?
Sean“Sam?” I call out, closing the door behind me and scanning the quiet apartment. In the dark, I see my leather jacket shift as Sam stirs underneath it. Her eyes are closed and she’s breathing deep and even. Sighing, I squat down beside her and brush a loose strand of dark hair back from her face. I shouldn’t have yelled at her.Sam hums softly and snuggles in my jacket, wrapping her fingers in the buttery soft worn leather and gripping it tighter to her like a child clutching a teddy bear. The sight of her vulnerable like this again makes my chest ache.Bundling her up in the blanket that covers her legs, I lift her up into my arms, biting back a growl at how light she feels. Carrying her into her bedroom, my head spins with the potency of her scent. Once I get her tucked up in bed, I pull my jacket away and toss it over the back of a nearby chair. Pulling the door closed, I tiptoe out to the kitchen and set about cooking dinner for us both. As I’m cho
SamPacking an overnight bag, I follow Sean down to his truck. He looks agitated as he speaks into the phone held tight to his ear. Leaning back against the hood, his long legs crossed at the ankles, he looks serious and sexy at the same time. When I step out the front door of my apartment building, he lifts his gaze to mine and falls silent, stroking his hand over his chin as he watches me approach. While he headed outside to calm down and get some fresh air, I took my time showering and getting ready. If I’m honest with myself, I wanted to remind him of the old me. The first version of me he met in the bar that night. I want to remind myself of the old me while I’m at it. This is the closest I’ve felt to it in a long time. That sleep has done wonders for me.The red nails and black skin-tight jeans are back. Black heeled boots and a figuring hugging white vest top complete the look, showing off my assets and giving me some wiggle in my step. I want him to look at