We finish the river tour and head further into the city. We slowly walk through downtown Chicago, hand-in-hand. He stops in front of one of the buildings, and I look up at the high-rise in front of us.
Sam’s body tenses next to me, and I’m about to ask him what’s wrong when he answers my unasked question. “This is where I work,” he sighs.
“Shall we go up?”
“Yeah, ok.”
Sam leads me up to the 95th floor; we walk through the double doors, Sam using a keycard to unlock them, and then walk through the floor until we reach his office.
Sam’s been weirdly quiet and distant since we stopped in front of the building a few minutes before.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I don’t want you to get in trouble for bringing me here. Do you want to go?”
Sam lets out a breath. “No, it’s not that. We can be here. I think it’s just this place. It makes me feel off.” He brings my hand up to his mouth and places a soft kiss on the back of my hand. Sam opens the door to his office and walks in, pulling me behind him.
My eyes immediately fall on the pictures hanging on his wall, specifically, the one that matches a picture hanging in my office. The picture is from one of our hikes to Mt. Rainier. We had stopped by a small river with the mountain in the background. The pine trees inked down his left arm remind me of the ones from this area.
Sam must notice my attention because he stands behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. “That was the picture you took when we were hiking Mt. Rainier.”
“I know.” I look at him over my shoulder. “I have this same picture hanging in my office, too.”
“You do?”
I turn back to the picture, taking it in. “Yeah. I’m surprised you have it hanging here.”
“It was one of my favorite hikes with you.” He kisses my cheek, and we stand there for a moment, looking at the picture. It seems so strange to think all this time we’ve both had this picture hanging in our respective offices. A little piece of our past life.
Did he have this before or after he broke things off with Claire?I’m about to ask when I hear voices coming from the outer office. Sam shifts away from me and steps into the hallway.
“Steven, hey. I’m surprised to see you here on a Saturday,” Sam speaks to someone I can’t see yet.
“Me? What the fuck are you doing here, bro?” a deep voice, Steven, I presume, responds as a figure steps into view.
Steven is a little shorter than Sam, with blond hair and brown eyes. He reminds me of a much taller, male version of Liv. “Well, well, well, who is this stunning creature?” He’s looking at me like a predator, and I’m his prey.
“This is Kat. Kat, this is my colleague, Steven.” Steven steps forward, pushing past Sam, and pulls me into a hug. I stand there frozen in place, my arms at my sides, unsure what to do. Sam clears his throat. “Dude, back off from my girl.” Sam pulls on Steven’s arm, who finally releases me and takes a step back.
I watch as Steven looks me up and down, drinking me in. I can’t stop the blush from rising on my cheeks when I see Steven’s assessment of me. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to men finding me attractive.
“What is a beautiful woman like you doing with a dope like him?” Steven points his thumb at Sam, who walks over to me and puts his arm around my shoulder. Claiming me. Marking his territory.
I look up at Sam, who’s glaring at Steven, and can’t contain my laugh, “Please don’t start a pissing contest.” Sam’s gaze snaps to mine, surprised. I elbow him in the ribs lightly. “I thought you were going to get me lunch?”
“Mmmm.” He kisses the top of my head. “Yes, Kitty Kat, let’s go get lunch.” Sam grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door. He tilts his head towards Steven and says his name as we pass, leaving Steven in Sam’s office. After my jealousy last night over Tiffany, jealous Sam is adorable.
Eleven Years Old
“Ma!” I shout for her as I walk into the kitchen, where I know she’s making her morning coffee.
“Yes, pretty girl?”
“If I have to listen to Ethan screech out 'these wounds they will not heal' one more time while he's in the shower, so help me! He sounds like a dying cat.”
Ethan’s been on this Linkin Park kick since he bought one of their posters at a music store a few weeks ago. He came home with posters of Linkin Park, Twenty One Pilots, and Panic! At the Disco and showed them to Mom and me.
“What are you going to do with those posters?” I asked him.
“Hang them in my room. Obviously!” Ethan sounded exasperated when he responded.
