“What area of medicine are you in?” Wendy asks Sam.
“I’m an anesthesiologist at a level-one trauma center in Chicago,” he tells her.
“Oh wow, you probably see some terrible things.”
Sam nods, having just taken a bite of his food. “Every day,” he goes on when he’s done chewing. “I know what I signed up for when I took the job, and there’s rarely a dull moment.”
“I can only imagine.” Wendy shakes her head and leans forward. “Your brother is our vet. I see the resemblance now.”
“That was random,” Dad teases.
“I’m sorry,” Wendy laughs. “I knew you were related but didn’t think about it until just now. You two have the same eyes.”
“Sam is much better looking,” I say, and Sam laughs.
“I agree.” Sam gives me a wink, and Dad asks him about work while Wendy begs me for spoilers for my next book. I’m not sworn to secrecy. I can talk about it with my family and closest friends, who would be Farisha, Charles, and now Sam. But I’m always hesitant to give anything away because someone’s reaction could easily make me second-guess myself more than I already do.
Forty-five minutes later, I’m feeling even more worn out and my cheeks are hot. I better not have another fucking fever. Finally, we get our bags in Sam’s BMW and start the drive to Chicago.
“I’m, uh, sorry you didn’t walk along the trails.” Sam looks away from the road for a second.
“It’s okay.”
“Do you want to stop at the picnic shelter?”
“Now?” I reach forward and adjust the setting of my heated seat. “No, it’s fine.”
“You sure? We could?”
Again, he’s leaving me a little confused. Is he trying to be nice? Maybe he feels bad for me for missing out on it this weekend?
“It’s okay. We’ll come back. I’m honestly really tired. I want to stay up and keep you entertained, but I’m not sure if I can.”
Smiling, he looks at me once more, resting his hand on my thigh. I put my hand over his and rest my head against the leather headrest, knowing I won’t be awake for much longer.“I can help,” I mumble, going around to the back of the car to get my bag.
“It’s fine, babe, I’ve got it.” Sam grabs both bags before I have a chance to get mine and closes the door. We just parked in Chicago, and are trudging up to his apartment. We got stuck in traffic due to a turned-over semi on the way into the city, and it’s now after eleven. I’m pooped and my poor Sam has to be just exhausted.
The lobby of his swanky apartment complex is quiet at this hour on a Monday, we neither of us speak as we wait to go up to his floor.
“You should take Advil tonight,” Sam tells me as we strip out of our clothes. I need to shower but I’m so fucking tired. “To make sure you don’t spike a fever overnight.”
“Okay.” I pull my t-shirt over my head and follow him into the bathroom. He gets in the shower while I brush my teeth, and if I wasn’t half asleep, tonight would be more significant.
It’s the first time we’re together yet not having crazy wake-the-neighbors sex. This moment is a turning point in new relationships. It either indicates a level of comfort or indicates that the spark has fizzled out, and I know the latter is not the case.
Once my teeth are brushed, I’ve forced down more medicine, and I plug my phone into the charger, I fall into bed and am almost asleep when Sam gets in next to me. He’s naked, and his skin is still hot from the shower.
“I love you,” I say sleepily.
“I love you too, Chloe.” He takes me in his arms and spoons his body around mine. “More than you’ll ever know.”
His words, again, feel like a farewell, and I try to contemplate them but end up falling asleep. I wake up around three am because I have to pee and realize Sam isn’t in bed next to me anymore. I use the bathroom and then go into the living room, finding him leaning against the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the city below.
“Sam?” I call softly, and he jerks away, startled.
“Hey, you’re up.”
“So are you. What are you doing?” I went to bed in just panties and a thin tank top, and I’m cold. Sam put on pajama pants and looks comfortable against the window.
“I woke up and…and I, uh, couldn’t fall back asleep.”
“Come to bed,” I tell him. “You have to get up soon. I’ll rub your back until you fall asleep.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.” I hold out my hand, and Sam pushes away from the window. I intertwine our fingers and bring him back into bed, covering us both up with the blankets. I snuggle up with Sam and run my fingers up and down his back. My intentions are to help him fall asleep, but I pass out first, and the next time I wake up, it’s nearing six AM and Sam is in the kitchen. I can hear CNN on in the background and the sound of dishes clanking against the granite counters.