He heard her quiet laugh and then her footsteps as she approached.
“I can’t wait until you can call me ‘Mom.’ You know that, right, Sam?”
He choked back a sob as her arms wrapped around him again. “I-I know. I hope for that... every day,” he rasped, clinging to her. “I appreciate you so much, Mrs. E. You have no idea—”
“Yes, I do, honey. Yes, I do,” Katherine said, rubbing his back gently. “Now, you should get going so you can get some rest before you meet with Ollie for lunch. Here—don’t forget these.”
Sam straightened up as Katherine moved a couple of steps away and picked up the two plastic containers of cookies. With a weak smile, he took the cookies and let her see him out to his car.
Chapter 3
At 11:00 a.m., Ollie began cleaning up his lab bench, putting things away and finalizing some of his notes from the experiment he’d just started. The antibody incubation step he was testing wouldn’t be complete until 1:15 p.m., which gave him plenty of time for his planned lunch with Sam at the park. And he’d made sure his boss and colleagues knew he’d be out of the lab for about an hour.
But at 11:13 a.m., Susan, one of the other postdocs who worked in the lab, dropped a huge glass bottle filled with a corrosive solution, and the entire lab had to pitch in to help clean it up. Then, at 11:27 a.m., the lab safety manager, Dr. Watson, decided the entire group—all five postdocs as well as the two lead scientists and four technicians—needed a reminder on safety procedures.
Ollie had barely gotten a chance to send a very short text to Sam, letting him know he couldn’t make it to lunch, before he was pulled into one of the conference rooms and had to sit through a two-hour-long presentation on lab safety. He hadn’t even gotten to check his messages to see if Sam had received his text. And that did nothing to help him feel better after the tumultuous morning he’d had. But there was nothing he could do; the safety meeting was mandatory after the accident in the lab.
When the meeting was over, he’d had to hurry back to his experiment and start a series of time-consuming and labor-intensive wash steps that took much of the rest of the afternoon. It wasn’t until nearly 5:00 p.m. that he finally got to take a break long enough to check his texts. And when he did, the string of silly messages from Sam immediately overwhelmed him. Tearsof joy sprung to his eyes, and at the same time, he covered his mouth with one hand to hold back a burst of laughter.
He hurried out of the shared lab space to his office, where he could have some privacy. Then, he shut the door, moved to his desk, and collapsed into his chair, lowering his head into his hands and giving himself a moment to process all of his emotions.
When he’d finally steadied himself, he opened his messages again and reread Sam’s texts, his smile slowly growing as his heart filled with love.
Sam (11:29 a.m.):I miss you already.
Sam (11:30 a.m.):I’m here, at our picnic table. The ducks want your almond cookies. I told them no, but they don’t seem to be listening.
Sam (11:32 a.m.):One cookie. That was all I promised them, I swear.
Sam (11:32 a.m.):There are so many ducks.
Sam (11:32 a.m.):SO many. And they’re so demanding.
Sam (11:35 a.m.):I’ve been chased away. I barely got away with my life. And the cookies. But I told them the cookies were for you, and I refused to let them see my fear. As I ran.
Sam (11:35 a.m.):Have you ever been chased by an angry mob of ducks wanting your almond cookies?...
Sam (11:36 a.m.):I have.
Sam (11:47 a.m.):Just got home. The cookies are in the cupboard. They’re amazing, as always. Your mom is the best, seriously. The chicken salad is in the fridge if you want it for dinner. I’m so sorry I’ll be home late again. Hopefully not quite as late as last night, but you know how things go. :(
Sam (11:52 a.m.):Heading into work now. I love you and miss you. Call me if you need to, I’ll have my phone on, and I should be able to answer anytime. <3
Sam (3:57 p.m.):Just thinking about you. I love you, and I can’t wait to hold you tonight. Work is going well, and if I hurry, I might be able to get out of here around ten. These designs are looking great, and we’re finally almost finished! But I really just want to be with you right now.
Ollie sniffled and blinked the tears from his eyes, then dialed Sam’s number as he started to tidy up his desk. The phone rang several times and then went to voicemail, and Ollie left a short message saying he’d try calling again later and that he was glad Sam had escaped the horde of angry ducks at the park. Before he hung up, he paused and took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he added, “I... I really... I really can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ll try to stay up. I-I’ll see you soon.”
And he hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket. As quickly as he could, he finished writing up his notes in his lab notebook, and then he logged out of his computer, put everything away, and locked up his office. Although it was only just after six by the time he left, the lab was nearly empty, as it usually was on Friday evenings, and he waved a goodbye to his boss before heading toward the stairwell.
Less than fifteen minutes later, Ollie arrived at home, let himself in, and promptly collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. But he couldn’t even muster up the energy to drag himself off the couch, and instead, he just lay there, his eyes closed, listening to the quiet hum of the air conditioner.
Although today had been particularly brutal—having woken up at 4:30 a.m. from a less-than-restful sleep and then having to work nonstop all day thanks to the impromptu safetymeeting at the lab—Ollie knew his exhaustion was more a product of the whole last two weeks. Things had been getting... worse. His anxiety, his nightmares, and now... his flashbacks.
He’d talked about it with Dr. Solvang. He knew things would be getting worse as the anniversary of the day of his assault approached, just like last year. But last year had been so devastating... and he’d expected that things would bebetterthis year—that he’d be getting better, not worse. That definitely didn’t seem to be the case.
He hadn’t even told Sam the extent of it. He hadn’t admitted to his boyfriend that he’d had two other flashbacks just in the last week, though neither of them had been quite as terrible as this last one. And god, the one this morning... It had been painful in more than just the usual way, because it had probably hurt Sam just as much as it had hurt Ollie.
Ollie held back the sob that wanted to escape as he curled up into the couch cushions, his memory of the morning still fresh in his mind. He tried to banish it, forget it, think aboutanythingelse. He tried not to hear echoes of Sam’s weak protest that they should stop, taste remnants of Sam’s skin as Ollie had kissed his neck, feel whispers of Sam’s fingers cautiously exploring under Ollie’s T-shirt...
