Chapter Three

She needed to get away for a few minutes, escape to the sanctuary of the ladies room where she would be permitted a moment of vulnerability that was so rarely allowed in her every day life.

Martin had been watching her ever since her phone had rung. She was easier than a book to read. Perhaps it was just him. He hoped it was, just he who could tell her world had been knocked of that precarious balance it had been teetering on indefinitely.

Who was on the phone he wondered? It wasn't anyone from work, they were all right here. He was certain he had heard the word 'family' being spat sourly from her mouth at one stage. Was it her mother? Sister? Was it her father she had never spoken to him about? One thing was certain; the phone call had obviously rattled something deep inside of her.

His reports abandoned he took off after her down the hallway. She had been there for him earlier, her display touching him somewhere deeply, her total disregard for their relationship's privacy all of a sudden simply because he "needed" her made him fall even further in love with her than he already was. He was in the worst kind of trouble.

"Sam," he caught her in the hallway grabbing hold of her arm before she managed to duck into the safe zone that was the ladies room. "Who was on the phone?"

She looked frazzled. He had never quite seen that look on her face. There was desperation there and fear he sensed. "Sam," he tried once again.

"Sweetheart look at me," he tore her gaze from the floor forcing her eyes level with his, his hand cupping her chin refusing to let go. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she whispered desperately wishing he would let go of her, "Nothing is going on."

"Sam…"

"Please Martin just leave it."

"Something's wrong, I know you Sam. Talk to me."

"Well, I'm sorry to be so transparent Martin," he voice took on a tone of pure annoyance, "But please can you just drop it for now. And let me go," she shook his grip from her arm her voice growing with hysteria he was quite unaccustomed to.

He glanced at her wearily, "Fine," he released her, "When you need me just let me know. I'll do my best to be at your beck and call."

She leaned heavily against the wall, watching him as he walked away guilt seeping into every pore of her being. She hadn't meant to be so harsh, she knew he was just offering her the same support she had given him only hours earlier.

Except unlike him she just wasn't willing to talk about what had happened, certainly not in an open hallway in the Federal building. Later she promised herself. Later tonight, if he still let her come over she would tell him the whole story, emotions permitting, and everything would just go back to normal, she hoped.

Of course, she should have known she wasn't going to be so lucky.

Within moments of being left alone in the deserted hallway her cell phone rang again. She cringed. He was never one to give up so quickly, she remembered that about him. That memory had been permitted, dozens of others put through the memory shredder years ago in fear of just what unimaginable powers they could hold over her new life. They would not be allowed to hold such precedence in her thoughts as they once did.

"I told you to leave me alone," she seethed in place of a greeting.

"You know me better than that Sam." He paused a beat and she held her breath. "I want to see you."

"Well, I don't want to see you so you can just forget about that idea right now."

"Why not? You've got to at least give me a reason?" he begged in a voice she had always had trouble saying no to. Not this time though, she was adamant, he would not bring her down. She was stronger now. She didn't need him or his promises of the world he never delivered.

"You left me," she whispered in a voice that she despised for conveying all the hurt she still carried around with her.

"Well, I'm here now," he tried to reason with her knowing Samantha Spade had never been easy to convince. He could weaken her though, he knew just how. He'd perfected that power many years ago.

"That doesn't change the fact you walked out on me and left me all alone." She winced at the memory of a broken-hearted younger version of herself abandoned in that tiny apartment of theirs.

"Come on Sam, I'm your husband."

"You're my ex-husband," she was quick to correct him. "And my name is Samantha."

"I've always called you Sam," he protested his voice adopting that whiny teenage sound she remembered well.

"You left me," she spat out, "You don't get that privilege any longer. And I don't want to talk to you, or meet you. Please Cole don't call me again."

She hung up, certain that without the wall behind her she would have collapsed into a crumpled heap of emotion right there on the floor.

She sighed; this was turning out to be a god-awful day.

Martin was undoubtedly mad with her after her little hallway display and she was being stalked by a man who had one time, she couldn't seem to get to stay with her.

Her life was right on track.

Just great.


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