You wake up where you left off, face down on the couch. Your head is pounding, but at least it's a new kind of pain to what you've been feeling the last few days. You push yourself up, groaning in agony, and make your way to the kitchen. You start up the coffee machine and wait. Once it's ready, you pour it into the biggest cup you have, practically a bowl, and prepare it to your exact liking. You go back to the couch, getting ready to settle in for another day of self-loathing and shitty movies. Your phone is buzzing on the coffee table; leftover messages from after you had passed out. It takes a moment for your eyes to focus. You scroll through, crack a small grin or two, and then your face drops sharply. There's a message from Sam again and when you opened to read it there was an ENTIRE CONVERSATION you don't remember having. You scroll up furiously to read it.
Oh no, you told him about Riley.
'Ohhhhh no. No no no.' you think. You keep reading… all his texts are incredibly thoughtful and supportive. Thankfully apart from revealing too much about your personal life by telling him about the breakup, nothing about the conversation was terribly unprofessional. Okay, except for how VERY obviously drunk you were. After careful consideration you decided not to text him back right now. You didn't want to further humiliate yourself.
After a few hours of nursing your hangover and throbbing head, your phone buzzes. Sam again.
'Hey, you doing okay? Can I bring you anything?'
You reply, 'Thank you, no. I'm alright. Sorry about last night, I didn't mean to dump my drama into your lap. I was pretty drunk. I promise that I will be totally back to my normal self for our appointment next week.'
'I'm not worried about that. Just you. Are you sure you don't need anything?' he quickly responds.
'Yes, I'm sure. Thank you, Sam :)'
A new week has begun and you can no longer hide out in your home. Thankfully you are feeling more like a human and less like actual garbage. You gather your things and head for the office. You have your appointment with Sam in the afternoon and you find yourself nervous for the first time. You're not sure if you're worried about having crossed the professional line so horribly, or that you're newly single and he's still so…. Well… Sam. Then again, maybe you're just nervous to face everyone at the office. They all know why you were out "sick" at this point, and while you have no doubt they'll be understanding, you just don't want to see all the sympathetic stares.
You get in, iced coffee in hand, and put on your best face. A few of your closer colleagues hug you and you finally make it into your office. You shut the door and exhale. Finally, some peace. You get your desk setup and get to work. You see a couple clients before Sam arrives.
He walks in slowly. "Heyyyy, look who's back."
"Good afternoon, Sam," you smile.
He walks over to you, one hand behind his back. He brings his hand around and gives you a single flower. "I thought this might cheer you up a little." Your eyes well up and you beam at him.
"OH SHIT, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to upset you!" he panics.
"No… it's… this is so nice." you try to reassure him as a tear streams down your cheek.
"Hey hey, come here." he says, extending his arms out.
You stand and he pulls you into a warm hug. His breath feels so warm against your skin and you start to feel the lump in your throat again. You know a lot of what you feel about Sam existed before the breakup, but you also know how very vulnerable you are, and that a lot of these thoughts and feelings are a direct result of that. You swallow it all down and finally pull away.
"I'm good, thank you, you're very sweet. I'm anxious to get back to work and hear more of your story."
As you set the flower down on your desk, a shiver runs down your spine. For a split second you want to shove everything off your desk and have him take you right then and there. You know better but for that split second… you shiver again. You pick up your things and head to your chair.
Sam spends the day talking about the weeks leading up to Panama. You're not sure what happens in Panama, but you can tell it's gonna get pretty gritty again by the way he speaks of it.
Your session ends and you're gathering your things up. Sam walks over to you.
"You going to be okay?" he asks.
You turn to face him and find him closer to you than expected. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good. I really appreciate how sweet you've been, but really, I'm fine." you tell him, feeling flustered. "I'll see you tomorrow."
He nods, and backs away. He grabs his jacket and looks to you again, "If you need anything, you call me."
You nod and try to appear happy.
For your next meeting with Sam, you make sure the ashtray starts empty. He has indicated more than once that telling the story of Panama is going to be a pretty serious, heavy couple of days of work. When he arrives he is visibly anxious.
"Okay… before we start, I want you to know about my backup plan."
He stares at you, puzzled.
"Often times when clients finish working with me, they bring me gifts to… thank me or just to celebrate their deals." You tell him as you walk toward your supply closet. "Usually, that gift is of a… liquor variety."
He chuckles, "Wait, you had booze in here all along?"
"Yes," you confirm, "but it's for a specific purpose. You see, it's one thing if we're done for the day and need to lighten the mood. Which is what we did on your first day." You pull the doors of the cabinet open and pull out a bottle of scotch and a single glass, "What these are for… are days like today could be… I need you to keep working through the story, we don't have time to pause for a cheer up at the bar next door, but you might need the booze to power through."
You place the bottle and the glass onto the table, near the ashtray.
"Oh, so you want to get me hammered?"
You can't help but blush a little as you laugh, "No no no, it isn't about getting you smashed, just… taking any edges off."
He grins, "Suuuuuure."
You settle in and he begins by telling you about the man who helped bribe their and Nathan's way into this prison. You hold up your hand, "First, I need you to spell that name."
"R-a-f-e, first name; A-d-l-e-r, last name."
Your pencil scrawls down the name and you continue, "Second, I just want to be sure I understand you correctly. You, your brother, and this… Rafe, bribed your way… INTO prison?"
He nods and continues to explain the connection to this prison and the treasure they were seeking. They were in there for what felt like an eternity to make sure that them being there seemed legitimate to those who weren't in on it. He spoke of the fighting, the poor treatment, and terrible food they endured all to secure a small fraction of time in a dilapidated cell, to search for a centuries old clue or two. Sam smirks as he recalls learning a LOT of unsavoury phrases in Spanish during his time there, and a lot of card games just to get a cigarette or two in his hands. Thankfully he was very good at hustling for his addiction. He lights one cigarette after another now. Maybe because he was talking about, but more likely from what was to come. He stops talking for a moment, takes a long drag and pours himself a drink while exhaling the smoke through his nose.
"Getting real serious now, aren't we?" you inquire.
He nods, almost despondent.
"Take your time, Sam."
He swigs the booze and takes another long drag. He explains how his brother got into the tower and found the clue they needed, but then Nathan had to tell them that the guard that helped them in found out just how much what they were after was worth… and he wanted a bigger payout. He now wanted a cut of the whole treasure, not just what Rafe was already paying him. He goes on about how this upset Rafe and how it caused an even bigger rift between Nathan and Rafe, though there was no love lost even prior to that. He details a fight that broke out and being dragged into the warden's office with Vargas, the corrupt warden they bribed to get them in, where they were confronted with his demands. His hands start to shake a little when he begins to explain where it all fell apart. Rafe killing Vargas, and the three of them on the run to get out. They almost lose Rafe at one point and then they all meet up and are jumping rooftops. Sam starts to tear up and he details his final jump, his brother catching him, and a brief feeling of relief before the bullets tore through him.
His voice breaks some as he says he tried to smile at his baby brother so he'd think it was alright so Nathan would keep going, but his body was shutting down so fast. His brother lost his grip when he passed out and he crashed through the top one of the buildings and landed hard on the ground below.
He stops talking again and though his head is down and tucked behind his free hand, you hear a sob escape him. You put your things down and walk over to the couch, sitting next to him. You throw your left arm across his back and your right hand on his knee.
"Sam… Jesus, I'm so sorry, that must have been awful."
He inhales deeply and leans his body into you a little. You lay your head on his shoulder in a sort of awkward side hug. He takes a couple more breaths to compose himself before finally lifting his head. Another single tear is clinging to his cheek; you lift your hand from his knee and wipe it gently with your finger. His eyes close and he takes your hand into his. He opens his eyes and leans into you, before you realize it he's kissing you.
You sharply pull back in shock, "Oh!"
He pulls back abruptly too, "Shit, I'm sorry. That was… I'm so sorry."
"I... "
"No, it's... I'm sorry. I'm gonna go, we can finish tomorrow."
Sam quickly stamps out his cigarette, grabs his jacket and bolts out the door. You're still on the couch, replaying the last few minutes over in your head.
'WHY DID YOU PULL BACK?' you think. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid.'
You stand up and start pacing the room. The kiss was nice, but it's just… it's all too soon. It's only been a week since Riley left. You were with Riley for YEARS. This isn't something that just heals overnight, and Sam is so great. If something is going to happen between you, it can't be when your feelings are this raw. It can't be a rebound, HE can't be the rebound guy. That would be a HUGE mistake. Tears of your own start to well up in your eyes; you didn't want to hurt him or freak him out. This is the second time you've effectively rejected him and it's not for lack of interest, just… terrible fucking timing.
Shortly after you compose yourself, your assistant buzzes in. Sam has cancelled his appointment tomorrow. Your chin starts to tremble, you pick up your phone and text Sam.
'Sam, please don't be upset. I was just surprised and things are really raw for me right now. If it helps it was a really nice kiss. Please come to your appointment. I'm sorry.'
You wring your hands and pace the room, waiting for him to respond. You slump onto the couch and lay across it. It's everything you can do not to cry again. Several minutes pass before you hear a knock at the door. You sit up quickly and head over, all the while wondering how long have you been lying there? What time is it?
You fling the door open and there is Sam. He grabs your face and kisses you hard and pushes you into the room. Before you know it, you're up against your desk and his hands move from your face to your sides. He pulls you into him and you feel how hard he is. You're about to tear off your clothes and let him take you, when your phone buzzes. Your eyes open again and you sit up from the couch. Another dream. Damn.
The message is from Sam.
'Nothing to be sorry for, I just need a day to repair my pride. We are good, see you next time.'
It wasn't ideal, but for now it will have to do.