7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven

S am looked up from her computer to the window of her apartment, where the morning sun streamed through the glass, casting golden stripes across the hardwood floor.

She glanced down at the time glowing on the corner of her monitor, sitting atop the wide white desk cluttered with notebooks and pens. Even after working for a couple of hours, it was still relatively early in the morning.

She stifled a yawn, lifting one hand to rub at her tired eyes while the other hovered over her keyboard.

A knock at the door broke through the quiet. Sam frowned, glancing up. It was too early to be expecting anyone.

Stretching her neck, she pushed back from the desk and trudged toward the door.

Sam pulled it open and blinked in surprise. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face.

“Hey,” she said, her voice hoarse from hours of quiet. The headphones bobbed around her neck as she shifted in the doorway.

Jess smiled back. “Sorry, I know it’s early. I just—couldn’t sleep. Figured you’d be up, too.”

Sam smiled softly. “It’s fine.” She stepped aside, letting Jess in.

“I brought coffee,” Jess said, holding out the cup like a lifeline.

Sam groaned, taking the cup from her quickly, like it was the last drop of liquid left on earth. “You’re the best,” she muttered, taking a sip, the bitter edge pulling her out of her fog.

As Jess wandered past her into the small space of the living room, Sam made a beeline for the kitchen, navigating around the mess of papers, boxes, and everything else she hadn’t gotten to in the past few days.

“Sorry,” she called over her shoulder, setting the cup down by the sink as she tried to quickly organize the chaos. “Got sucked into work this morning. Thought I’d have more time to clean up before you got here.”

The second Jess froze near the couch, Sam knew exactly what she’d walked into. She didn’t even need to look. Her gut twisted, a wave of embarrassment surging through her before she even spotted it—the strap-on, sitting there in plain view.

“Shit,” Sam muttered under her breath, crossing the room in two long strides. She snatched it up, quick but not quick enough to erase the awkwardness choking the air. “Sorry. I—uh, forgot she left this out.”

Jess’ face flushed, her eyes darting everywhere but the couch. “It’s fine,” Jess muttered, her voice too high, too tight.

Sam could see it, how Jess’ mind was probably working overtime, piecing together whatever thoughts about Tiana she’d been avoiding. Hell, it wasn’t like Sam wanted to think about it either, at least not in that moment.

Without another word, Sam disappeared down the hall, dumping it onto her bed before she could overthink it. The apology fumbled out of her mouth as she came back. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Jess cut her off, her voice hitting that painfully awkward tone, followed by a laugh that was obviously more nerves than humor. “Really. You don’t have to explain anything.”

Sam knew that laugh, and more than that, she knew Jess didn’t want an explanation. The tension between them was so thick it was suffocating, but when their eyes met, Sam couldn’t hold it anymore. The ridiculousness of it all cracked her, and before she could stop herself, she was laughing.

Jess’ eyes widened in surprise, but a second later, she was laughing, too. Not just a nervous chuckle, but a deep, genuine laugh. The kind that made her shoulders shake and her cheeks flush.

And just like that, the tension shattered.

Sam ambled to the kitchen, still chuckling, as she grabbed her coffee and returned. She stepped around the couch, dropping onto the gray cushions.

Jess wrinkled her brow, looking down at the couch with apprehension.

Sam looked at her curiously for a moment before realization dawned on her face, and she burst into another laugh.

“It’s clean,” she said, taking a sip of the coffee. “I promise.”

Jess hummed, moving around the arm of the couch to sit on the opposite side before setting her drink down on the small black coffee table.

“So,” she began, leaning back into the cushions, her gaze flicking to Sam, “what happened to taking the morning off?”

Sam pressed her lips together, giving a small shrug. “I tried, but couldn’t really sleep in even though I’m tired from last night.”

Jess smiled, her features softening. “Last night was fun. Really fun. It’s been too long since I’ve had a night like that.”

Sam turned, resting an arm along the back of the couch as she angled her body toward Jess. “Why? You have your best friend here.”

Jess gave a light shrug. “Scarletts settled down more since she met Terrence.”

Sam snorted, raising an eyebrow. “She seems exactly the same as always to me.”

Jess smirked, taking a sip of her coffee before setting it back on the coffee table. “I think that has more to do with you being back here than anything.”

Sam cocked her head. “Really?”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Jess said with a light laugh.

Sam’s lips curved into a faint smile as she brought the cup to her mouth. “You and Liz don’t go out a lot?”

Jess glanced away, thinking. “I go out with her and her friends sometimes,” she replied. “But it’s just different, I guess.”

Sam watched her intently, waiting for the deeper explanation.

“I mean—don’t get me wrong,” Jess added quickly, “They’re great, and Liz is too, obviously.”

Sam nodded slowly, adjusting the cup in her hands. “Well, she’s a lot better than some of those other girls you dated. Better than that one girl from college.”

Jess’ face scrunched in confusion. “Which girl?”

Sam shot her a pointed look.

Jess’ eyebrows tugged together as she cocked her head. Then a look of realization dawned on her. “Tess?” she asked with a laugh.

Sam groaned. “To this day, every time I meet a ‘Tess’, I instantly can’t stand them.”

Jess burst into laughter, shaking her head.

“I thought I could get along with almost anyone, but man, that girl,” Sam muttered, a grimace pulling across her lips.

“Oh stop. You like everyone.” Jess said, reaching forward to grab her coffee. “Besides, she wasn’t that bad. You were just jealous.”

The words landed hard, like a small bomb dropped between them. For a heartbeat, Sam just stared at her, caught off guard. And she saw it in Jess too. The momentary pause, like she hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

And that realization filled her with a quiet satisfaction.

“Whatever,” she muttered, a smirk ghosting across her lips.

Silence hung between them, and she let it stretch for a moment longer, savoring the rare crack in Jess’ composure. It was good to know she wasn’t the only one having trouble with what to say and what not to say. But before she could press further, Jess cleared her throat, reaching into her bag for the stack of papers she’d brought.

“I brought a few mock-ups for the PR campaign idea I told you about,” Jess said, her tone shifting to business. “Figured we could go through them and pick what you want to send out to new clients about the possible acquisition.”

Sam leaned forward, taking the thick stack from her hands and flipping through the pages. They were good. Better than she’d expected, actually. But she wasn’t surprised. Jess had an eye for that kind of thing—making hard tasks look polished and effortless.

She set the papers down and met Jess’ gaze with an impressed smile. “These look great.”

Jess nodded, her tense expression melting into one of satisfaction. “Good. And once you get me the rest of the details, I can finalize them. Then we can get to work on a release for next month.”

Sam nodded slowly. “Sorry. I was planning to get the rest of the details together for you last night, but—I couldn’t really focus on it.”

Jess hummed, glancing away as her lips formed a tight line across her face. “Yeah, I bet.”

Sam snorted a laugh. “No, I mean—nothing like that. I tried to work. Just had too much on my mind, I guess, with everything from last night.”

She opened her mouth to say more, but the words dried up when she caught Jess glancing at her like she was weighing whether to bring up something heavier.

“Yeah,” Jess started, her voice softer now, hesitant. “How do you feel? I mean—after seeing Liz’s parents again.”

Sam’s grip tightened on the edge of the papers, knuckles paling. She’d known it was coming—of course Jess would ask. But it still felt like the floor tilted beneath her, just for a second.

Talking about her mother had always been easy, in a way. It wasn’t a complicated situation. A woman with a drug problem left a child behind.

It was a story told many times before. A one sentence explanation that everyone understood. Sure, it was sad. But it was also simple .

The other parts, however, were anything but. How could she explain the other adults in her life not wanting her when she needed it most? When it all finally came to its inevitable end, and none of them thought she was worth taking in.

There was no simple way to explain that. No neat and clean words to describe that humiliating realization. The painful moment she discovered that it wasn’t just an addict who didn’t love her enough to stick around.

But that none of them did.

She forced herself to exhale slowly, leaning back into the couch as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“It was—weird,” Sam admitted. Her voice was rougher now, like it was raking out against old, scarred memories.

Jess was quiet for a few moments, waiting for an explanation that Sam didn’t know how to give. Then finally she asked, “So, private school? You never told me about that.”

Sam shrugged. “My first grade teacher said I needed more of a challenge than what I could get in public school. She applied for me and got me into the scholarship program at the private school down the road.” She cleared her throat, rolling her shoulders. “That’s uh—that’s how I met Liz.”

Jess nodded, looking down. “Liz said you guys went to school together. But she didn’t mention any of the other stuff.”

That wasn’t a surprise. To her, that time was completely life altering. Her entire world crumbled in just a few days. But to Liz, nothing changed. Sure, she lost her best friend. But she kept everything else. The same parents. Same school. Same soccer team.

The same life.

While Sam was left picking up the pieces of hers.

“Yeah,” she breathed. “I wouldn’t expect her to.”

Jess’ gaze softened. It was the way she’d looked at her from the very beginning. The same way she’d looked at her the first time they’d really ever talked about it. One rainy night in the diner. One night that seemed to alter things between them.

Even now, eight years later, she could still feel the warmth from Jess’ hand on her own. The way every one of her nerve endings had ignited when Jess wrapped her arms around her as they rode home that night.

The way her body ached— begged —to feel it again the moment it was gone.

“Last night was fine, though.” Sam swallowed, her throat tight. “I mean, they were fine. It was just—weird.”

Jess’ brow furrowed, and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Maybe they think pretending everything’s fine is easier.”

Their faces flashed in her mind. The way Mrs. Jacobs had hugged her so tight it almost hurt, like she was still the little girl they’d known. And maybe she had been, for a brief moment, until the reality of it all came crashing back in. The memory played on repeat—the look in Mr. Jacobs’ eyes when he asked her why she hadn’t played soccer in college, the way he’d lit up talking about the old days, like he’d completely forgotten what had come after.

“It was like they didn’t even remember what happened.” The words ghosted past Sam’s lips in little more than a whisper. “Like none of that was real.”

Jess’ expression softened even more. “Just because they wanted to act like it didn’t happen, that doesn’t mean you have to do the same.”

“Yeah,” Sam muttered, her voice rougher now, and tinged with something bitter.

She cleared her throat, forcing an uncomfortable smile, trying to break away from the unpleasant feelings. “Either way, it’s not a big deal. It just threw me off, I guess.”

Jess’ face evened out with something Sam couldn’t quite place. Maybe pity. Maybe something more.

“Well, if it does feel like a big deal , that’s okay, too,” Jess said quietly.

Sam’s jaw clenched, the muscles ticking beneath her skin. Then she cleared her throat, looking for anything that would change the subject. That would bring back the easy, happy air they’d had before.

She smiled again, running a hand over the back of her neck. “Yeah, well, it helped having you there last night. Thanks for—all of that.”

Jess’s gaze softened, her shoulders slumping slightly as if she’d just lost a small, private battle. “Of course,” she said, almost whispering. “You know I’m always here for you.”

Sam looked away. It was too much, the way Jess said it, like she meant every word.

“Thanks,” she muttered, finally meeting Jess’s gaze.

Then she rolled her shoulders, settling back into the couch, glad to let that conversation pass.

“Okay, what’s next?”