Diane hadn't expected any of this – not any of it. She had sublet her apartment to a fellow student and was doing just fine at the convent. She enjoyed the honey-slow routine, the lack of drama, the easy silence, the sonorous but comforting chimes of the bells calling them to prayer and meditation.
There, she didn't have to see the heartbroken face of Frasier – she had caught a devastating glimpse of it just before she ran off. There, she did not have to hear the heartless voice of Sam, making jokes over the phone when she was practically begging him to admit he still loved her.
She could put them both out of her mind – and work on forgiving herself for what she had done, and how she had failed spectacularly not with just one man, but two.
And now here she was – somehow in bed with Sam, yet again. Oh, could these two ever leave each other alone? But she was so happy right now, so happy. She thought her heart might swell out of her chest.
She could smell his skin in her nostrils - still taste every sweet, musky bit of him in her mouth. She simply could not resist him and that was the unfortunate truth – there was some gravitational pull between them that she was so tired of trying to fight.
She unfurled herself from his warm, sleeping embrace and got in the shower. She came out and began combing out her wet hair, still feeling loose, aglow and tingling from the night before, and the memory of all they had said and done to each other.
Then she felt his lips on her neck, and his hand sliding down the curvature of her belly, another gripping her around her behind.
"You're up early," he said, giving her neck a delicate kiss.
She smiled at him in the mirror, relishing the relaxed, fully satisfied look on his face.
"Check out time is soon," she said.
He turned her around, pressing his naked body up against hers, forcing her back against the sink counter.
"I think we need to use up all of our time," he said, running his mouth along her neck, and pushing his fingers deep between her legs. "Every second of it."
"Sam," she gasped, beginning to feel herself edge towards the point of no return. "We can't go on like this forever."
"Why not?"
"Well, for one, I would love some coffee." She grinned, fluttering her orb-like eyes at him.
He couldn't resist anything she said right now – she could have told him to do the hokey pokey naked in the street and he would gladly done it.
"Fine, I'll go get some coffee," he said, reluctantly untangling himself. "Light, no sugar, right?"
"I'm impressed you remember that."
"Maybe I'm not the complete and total lunkhead you think I am, Diane."
He winked and disappeared into the bedroom. Diane wrapped herself in the B&B-supplied robe and stood near the open door watching him getting dressed. She took almost as much pleasure in watching him dress as in watching him undress.
She leaned against the doorframe.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Shoot."
"What you said yesterday – at the abbey – ah –"
He met her eyes for only a moment, but kept dressing, yanking up his pants and casting his eyes around for where his shirt had landed in their declothing frenzy from the day before.
"Yeah?"
"Well, you said…" She was reluctant to spoil this mood with her usual digging around for answers, but she could contain herself no longer – and in usual Sam Malone fashion, he hadn't taken it upon himself to enlighten her on his own accord.
She had a sudden stiff resolve.
"Sam, you said you came to Italy – was that true?"
"Yeah, I did," he said, nonchalantly. He still didn't make eye contact.
Here was the part where Sam Malone would shut down – he was nothing if not defenseless and vulnerable in bed – get him out of it, however, and she knew she had to tread very carefully.
"Well, um, you came to, um –"
He finally looked at her - and she detected a grain of impatience in his eyes.
"I came to – I don't know. Talk to you, I guess. When you made that call, it sounded like you were confused and I – I thought we should talk, ummm…"
He pretended he was looking for his baseball jacket. Of course he did. Diane never knew how it was that they could go from such soul-mingling intimacy to the coldness of near strangers in the blink of an eye.
I'm so nuts about you, Diane. You have no idea.
Had he really murmured that to her last night while holding her face and giving her languid kisses? Had she imagined it?
"Okay, Sam," she said. "I was just curious."
There was no sense pressuring him – she herself didn't know what she wanted. While he seemed to have some kind of unrelenting power over her, she had loved Frasier – she had spent a year with him. She already missed some of him, especially the way she never doubted how he felt. She just knew she shouldn't marry him.
"Let me go get some coffee," Sam said, and dashed over to her, kissing her quickly on the lips. "I'll be right back."
He slapped her playfully on the butt and disappeared.
Something in her heart deflated.
Sam walked down the little street, feeling jaunty and buoyant. The morning air was crisp and clean – he vowed to get out of the city more often. In fact, it would be nice to get out of the city with Diane more often.
He never felt so close to her as when he was in bed with her and could keep her mouth from running. It was when they were out of bed that they started having problems. He began to wonder if it was possible to have a relationship where two people did nothing but make love 24/7.
So far, she had miraculously not started grilling him about what it all meant – on some level, he knew she had the right to ask questions, but it always unnerved him. Why couldn't she just go with the flow? Why did she have to analyze everything to death, suck all of the fun out of it? Wasn't it enough for her to know that he'd flown across the ocean for her?
Sam didn't have the kind of mind that went too far beyond the present moment.
Many of the stores on the street hadn't opened yet, but he found a coffee shop and ordered two cups to go.
He came back out and took a deep inhale of the glassy morning air.
It was then he spotted a whimsical little vintage shop and decided to take a peek in the window. He peered at the classic tailored jackets, the perky stylish hats, the '50s album covers, and deep-hued old books. He thought about buying something for Diane.
That's when he saw the open black velvet box upfront – inside was an antique diamond ring, its luster bottomless and soulful. Something about its ethereal curves and slivery lights, its spray of tiny diamonds hugging the large center stone, drew him.
As if in a trance, Sam headed into the store.
The two of them decided to take a walk around the charming, elfin town before they had to head back into Boston.
Diane was happily shocked when Sam reached for her hand, firmly twining his fingers with hers.
"I saw this little park up the street," he said. "We can have our coffee there."
"That sounds delightful," she said, flashing him those big eyes. He could never resist the way she looked him, even when she was using words like "delightful."
They reached the small oasis, packed with spring flowers, bursting with poppy purples, reds, and yellows. Diane was surprised when he indicated that she should sit on a small wrought-iron bench. He obviously had something on his mind, and it wasn't too often he wanted to talk, at least about anything serious, so she was careful to say nothing.
"Diane, I did come to Italy. I guess I was in kind of a – I don't know – a panic or something. It's hard to explain."
"I know, Sam."
They heard a morning bird making almost comically urgent high-pitched trills.
When he said nothing more, her compulsion to speak finally overtook her.
"Sam, my life is so discombobulated right now. I feel – well, I'll just be honest with you – I feel terrible about what I did to Frasier. I don't know if I'll ever get over it. I mean, I guess I will… but he didn't really deserve that. He was a good man."
Sam looked down. She couldn't tell what he was thinking.
"Uh huh. Frasier," he said. He thought about telling her how Frasier had shown up at Cheers and pulled a gun on him – but he decided that one would be best lost to history.
"Yes, and I – I mean, I didn't expect this to happen between us, this was what I was trying to avoid, and, well, I want to come back to Cheers, but… I also want to concentrate on my studies and get back to writing my novel."
"Sure, sure," Sam said, seeming distracted by something near his foot.
"Are you listening?"
"Yep."
"Well, I just – I don't want you to feel any pressure. I know you said in the abbey you don't feel the same way you did, and I just – well, I know we got carried away last night, but-"
"Oh, hey, you hear that bird? Boy, he's making a racket, eh?"
"Are you sure you're listening?"
"What'd you say?"
"Sam, this isn't funny…"
He chucked her on the knee.
"Kidding! Hey, Diane, look… we don't need to beat this thing into the ground, what happened, happened. I think we both had fun – I know you did." He laughed.
"That's cute."
He relaxed back on the bench and spread his long legs out before him.
"Thank you, Sam," she said. "It's just that I'm so confused right now."
"Hey, sweetheart, do me a favor – let's just end this talk right now. It's not a big thing!"
He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. Then he glanced at his watch.
"Oh boy, we should get moving if we don't want to get stuck for hours in rush hour traffic."
They stood up and walked a little ways, silence aching between them. Diane wanted to reach out and touch him, but she felt she shouldn't after everything she'd just said.
How did they always end up back at square one?
Sam's thoughts were a jumble – he couldn't believe how close he'd just come to making an utter jackass out of himself. How stupid of him to forget that Diane Chambers would always, inevitably, indisputably, draw away just when he was trying his damnedest to draw her to him.
Sam felt the corners of the velvet box in his front pocket poke him lightly, almost tauntingly, in the pelvis as he walked.
He guessed he'd be able to sell it somewhere.