41. Sam

Iam lying in my bed in the guest room, still unable to really get up and move around. Surgery had really taken it out of me. I consider myself a healthy woman. I exercise daily and try to stay away from excess alcohol or junk food.

But a piece of me was removed and by the feel of it, not gently.

Everyone else was gone for the day, and I was left to my own devices. When Penny said she had to run errands with Annie and Greg had a meeting, I was relieved. Everyone had been doting on me, and it was starting to drive me crazy. Recovering, not dying. It was a phrase I've repeated nine million times in the last few weeks.

I reach for the water bottle on my nightstand and wince. The staples are finally out, but every move felt like it was ripping me back open. The bruise was still there, purple and yellow, but with the new support brace, it was easier to get up and move around.

A movie on the TV caught my attention, and I sipped my water while I was half-watching. After a half hour, I drifted off to the Ghostbusters tune.

The next time I open my eyes, Greg is sitting on the mattress, pulling his tennis shoes off quickly before lying next to me.

"Guess who I just met with?" he asks, excitement lacing his voice. "Joshua and his team of stuffy lawyers."

I sit up, trying to keep my face stoic as I do. "What'd he say?"

"He's trying to get the charges dropped."

I grab the remote and pause the movie. "Dropped?"

"Oh yeah. Turns out, your sister's testimony might be enough."

"You're kidding, right?" It's almost too good to be true. Dropped means options: going back to Costa Rica and no prison keeping Greg and me from my family.

He shakes his head, smiling the whole time. "She has physical evidence Sam."

I can't keep the surprise out of my voice. "What?!"

But he's not focused on my words; his fingers are pulling up my shirt. Heat pools in my belly before I realize there's no possible way he's trying to get sexy. The man has treated me like a porcelain doll since the surgery, barely sparing me more than a peck on the cheek. Sure enough, his hands move to the bandage under my pajamas. "How do you feel, by the way? Sorry I haven't asked yet, but I was excited."

"Forget my stupid cut. What's the evidence?"

"I have no idea. They're playing that one very close to the chest."

I slump back into the pillows. It's my life they are playing with; at the very least, I should know what the evidence is. As I cross my arms against my chest, Greg finishes his inspection of my wound and then pushes play on the movie, but after a few seconds of silence, he looks over to me. "Why are you pouting?"

As if it isn't obvious. I roll my eyes. "I'm stuck in here all day just waiting for everyone to get home and give me news. I wanna be involved."

"This is how these things go. Now that they have your story, they need to put all the pieces together to make a case around it. Apparently, Penny's evidence fits your story."

"So, it's all-around good news?"

"Very," he says, planting a chaste kiss on my forehead. I look at the TV, barely containing the boredom-induced rage building. Greg only chuckles. "In fact, we should celebrate."

A smile appeared at the corner of my lips. That look on his face—I had grown to know exactly what it meant. "Oh yeah?"

"Yes, but before I start, how do you feel? Really?"

I sigh and shake my head. As much as I want to, I know it would only result in pain to fool around with him, no matter how gentle he is. He seems to recognize my discomfort and cuddles up next to me instead. "Maybe tomorrow," he says. With an arm around my neck, he rubs small circles around my shoulder.

Admitting defeat, I turn the movie back on.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know, Tilly was waking me by flopping onto the foot of the bed. "Dating is awful," she announces with a snap.

Sitting up a little, I turn on the light. While I dozed, the afternoon turned into a full-blown, moonless night. "Is it?" I ask. Greg is snoring next to me, but if I knew him, and I kind of pride myself on that fact, he wouldn't be waking up from our talking, no matter how loud it gets.

"Yes. I'm done with men and women and everyone except you."

My mouth twitches into a smile.

Climbing up next to me on the other side of Greg, Tilly lays down. "You think you'll be okay when I leave?" Tilly is supposed to fly back to Costa Rica tomorrow. She is running out of money, and Ron needed help with the Surf Shack. Or so he says every time he calls to check-in.

"No." I chuckle as I say it. "But I'll call every day and I'll come back as soon as I can."

"To live or to visit?"

I was quiet. Still, no decision had been made about where I would end up after the trial. "Don't you think it's a little presumptuous to pick a place to live? We don't even know if I'll go to jail."

With a grin on her lips, Tilly shook her head. "No. I think it's smart to have a plan."

Reaching over, I turn the light off again and turn to face Tilly. "I plan on figuring it out when the trial is over."

Tilly didn't respond or move to leave, but I wasn't about to complain. Having my friend care for me so much was a huge support. I sigh but let my eyes close. When Tilly was gone, I was going to feel a huge loss, like having a limb cut off. But I know it's time. Tilly had given up more than enough of her life for me already.