22. Sam

I'm holding a paper bag full of chorizo and a bottle of wine as I approach Greg's door, smoothing my hair down nervously before I knock. The door swings open almost immediately, revealing Greg looking relaxed and happy, causing a knot to form in my stomach.

After everything with Penny today, spending time with Greg is exactly what I need. He has this knack for supporting me without ever pushing too hard as if he instinctively knows what I need. A quiet night in with him, watching a movie, and enjoying one of my favorite dishes sounds perfect. Plus, he's been on my case to watch Point Break forever; it's probably time to cave.

"Hey, come on in," he greets, stepping aside. I brush past him, leaving a quick kiss on his cheek before heading to his kitchen to unload the food. Greg takes a seat on the couch, watching me as I fuss with the Styrofoam boxes. Catching his affectionate gaze, I blush a bit. Over the past few weeks, I've been over a few times, but mostly just to meet up before heading out. It's the first time I've spent more than a few minutes here since we had sex on the couch.

Clearing my throat, I ask, "Where are your plates?" He directs me to a cabinet above the sink. I busy myself with the food, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. "Wine?" I offer, wanting to fill the slight awkwardness with some alcohol. Typically, I don't like to drink much, but I need something to calm my nerves.

"Yes, please," he responds, amusement lacing his voice. I manage to balance two plates and two wine glasses, bringing them over to the coffee table. Greg looks more than a little anxious as I carefully navigate the living room.

"Relax my dear, I'm a pro," I say with a wink, sitting down next to him, our thighs touching. The closeness, the smell of the food and wine, it's intoxicating. Especially adding in Greg's natural smell. A mix of ocean salt and his own musk, reminiscent of California mountains and the sea. I want to lean over and lick him from head to toe. Taste what has me so flustered. I can feel his eyes on me, and it only makes the heat growing in my belly spread.

Before I can ask why he's staring at me so intently, he breaks the silence. "You're positively amazing, Sam."

I chuckle, feeling a bit embarrassed. "It's just dinner, Greg. Calm down."

But he's serious. "If you think I'm referring to just this moment, you're fucking nuts."

I take a bite of my food, curious. "Meaning?"

"The surfing, the balance of the books for Ron, the way you are with Tilly, Tommy, and even your sister. And the pinball machine…" He stops for a minute and chuckles. "How the fuck did you know how to fix a pinball machine?"

I'm touched by how much he's noticed and a little shell-shocked by the intensity of his words. "I actually went to college to be an electrical engineer," I confess quietly, a bit surprised at myself for sharing.

"Really?" His amazement is evident, making more heat creep up my cheeks.

Nodding, I sip my wine. "Yep. Only did three semesters but I guess some stuff stuck. I wasn't much of a surf bum until moving here. Sure, I dabbled in Monterey, but didn't really fall in love with it until meeting Tilly."

Settling back, I can feel Greg's full attention on me. It's tempting to open up completely, to share every part of my story with him. But for now, I decide to stick to the safer parts of my early life in Costa Rica.

"When I first got here, I decided to take some classes at UCR. Back home, my ex never wanted me to go to college. So, once I was on my own, I thought, ‘Why not?' But my Spanish was terrible at the time, and somehow, everything just felt...vapid."

Greg sets his wine glass down, turning to me with eyes that seem to plead for more like he's desperate to understand. "Vapid how?"

I glance up, blinking back tears that threaten to spill over. The memories are too close to the surface. But most often, when the images start flashing through my mind, I can't stop them. I've been learning that letting the entire thing play out is best instead of pushing it away. With a sigh, I wrap my own arms around myself, trying to fight off the chill that's crept over me. "After everything with my ex, seeing people worry about parties or grades just seemed so trivial. I couldn't relate. I eventually stopped going to classes."

Staring at me, he looks like he has more to say, but as quick as it came, the expression turns into a smile. "Not a party animal, eh?"

Taking the hint to shift the conversation, I shrug. "Until, Tilly, yeah. She has a way of forcing me out of my shell."

He scooches closer. "And me? What am I, chopped liver?"

I shove him back, but my grin remains. "Yes."

That's exactly what he wanted to hear and he pounces on me, tickling my sides. I erupt into giggles, slapping at his hands. "Stop it, I'm hungry!" I tease but he just continues to squeeze my sides with his dexterous fingers while laughing with me. I collapse back on the couch, kicking at him but he straddles my legs and digs in even more. Tears have sprung into my eyes, my giggles changing into chortles. "Greg!" I laugh out.

It hits me in an instant without any warning. I'm pinned down, unable to get away. His weight on me suddenly feels suffocating and my breathing stops altogether. The room fades away to white and I hear a scream in my head. Not my voice, but Penny's. The scream that changed everything for me. Everything that happened that night. It's all rushing back and I'm unable to stop it. Frozen. Terrified.

"Sam!" Greg's voice burns through my haze and his face comes into focus.

He's off my lap, his cheeks pale. I sit up, still not sure what happened. "Sammy, can you talk to me?" His hand reaches out, prying something off my neck. It takes a second for me to realize its my own hands, covering where Kevin had choked me. With a gentle touch, his fingers poke at my neck as he looks at his watch. He's checking my pulse.

"I'm…sorry," I manage to say but my voice is hoarse as if the choking had actually happened.

"Can you take a deep breath for me, babe?" I nod and inhale shakily.

"Again," he demands, his eyes not leaving his watch. This time, it's smoother as he inhales and exhales with me.

Seemingly satisfied that I'm not going to die on him, he lets go and sighs. "Sammy, I'm so sorry," he says, his voice tight.

I'm shaking my head. "No, its fine. Just need to eat," I try to joke, but my voice falls flat.

He looks at me, his expression turning serious. "Can you tell me what happened with your ex?" His hands envelop mine. "Please, Sam. I need to know."

The weight in my chest grows, but I can't bring myself to share the details. I've never even talked about it with Tilly, who I trust with almost everything. "I…can't, Greg," I manage, pulling my hand back gently. The trip down nightmare lane is one I've always taken alone. No one can know what happened. No one.

Greg wraps an arm around me, trying to offer comfort. "Whatever it is, I'm not gonna be scared away. Talk to me... Trust me, Sam."

He lifts my chin gently, forcing me to meet his gaze. There's such sincerity in his eyes, a kind of understanding I've longed for. And my defenses, the heavy wall I've built around myself since that night, crumble. I close my eyes, ready to let it out.

"He... Kevin, came home drunk one night while I was already in bed," I start, my voice shaky. This is the first time I'm recounting the story in full detail, and it feels like opening a floodgate. Every scream, the smell of gunfire, the blood, it's all at the forefront of my mind.

"He wanted sex, but I said no, knowing how…" I swallow down the discomfort, trying to at least not think of how awful Kevin could get in bed. "It wasn't… enjoyable with him drunk. He started to wave his pistol around, not pointing it directly at me, but making sure I knew it was there."

Greg's silence is complete, his breath seemingly held in anticipation. I open my eyes, needing to know what he's thinking by even the smallest expression on his face. It's urging me to go on. "He hit me with it, nearly knocking me out, then insulted me, threatened to sleep with my friends to prove he was desirable."

Taking a deep breath, I try to steady myself, but my entire body trembles. The next bout of explanation rushes out. "The gun fell, and then his hands were around my throat." The urge to grip onto my neck is strong, but Greg doesn't release my hands. "I didn't want to shoot him; I just wanted him to stop."

Greg's nodding along, his breathing shallow. "But I called Penny, and she... helped." The way Penny had stepped in without hesitation cemented our bond in a way nothing else could. "She never asked any questions. It was like she knew it was bound to happen. I fled Monterey with her passport and never looked back."

"Oh Sam." Greg's response is so understanding and simple that more tears fall down my cheeks.

"I've been in Costa Rica ever since. I saw a few news reports and knew going back would mean arrest." I cover my face with my hands, and my silent crying turns into sobs. Greg's hand rubs my back gently. I don't know what he's thinking, but after vomiting out the memories of the worst day of my life, I feel the crushing weight of the confession leave me. Greg might try to turn me in, but I don't think so. For some ridiculous reason, I trust this man more than anyone else in the world. And that freeing feeling in my body makes me breath easier. Finally, someone knows, Greg knows, and one way or another, I can't take it back.