Chapter 20 – Samantha's Decision, Part I
Wednesday, June 2, 2004
Samantha awoke in the morning, oblivious of the time of day. She lay in Martin's bed, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings and listening for any sounds from the apartment. She dreaded getting up and having to face Martin. She knew that she had hurt him in a way that they may never get past. But she didn't know how she felt about Martin or Jack or even herself right now. She had such a history with Jack, a couple of years ago all she wanted was to be with Jack and now that could become a reality if only she could decide if that's what she wanted.
Her thoughts drifted back to Martin, "he cares so much for me" she mused and he's been there every step of the way this week, but that's all it's been—one week. Could she have flip-flopped her feelings that completely? Two weeks ago she was brushing off Martin's advances, how could she be falling in love with him now. She didn't want to trust her current feelings because her emotions were too close to the surface.
She heard movement outside the room and she rolled over to look at the clock, it was past eleven o'clock. She couldn't believe she had slept that late, but then realized that she'd gone to bed about the time that daylight was breaking. She rolled out of bed and saw that she was wearing only a t-shirt. She had been too tired to rummage through the bag to see what sleepwear that Martin had packed. She padded into the bathroom attached to the room and faced all of Martin's personal items. She reached for his cologne and inhaled its sweet aroma, quickly she put down the bottle, feeling like she was invading his privacy. The smell brought back the memory of the night she spend wrapped in Martin's jacket, calmed just by the scent of him near her. She splashed some cold water on her face and ran a brush through her hair. She found some clothes and opened the bedroom door to face her reality.
Samantha cautiously peeked her head around the kitchen corner and saw Martin standing with his back to her. She took a deep breath to steel herself and standing in the doorway said, "Morning, Martin."
He turned to face her, startled by her presence, but quickly turned his attention back to the stove. "Morning," he mumbled. "When did you wake up? I tried to be quiet, but I was hungry." Martin forced himself to carry on a normal conversation with her even though his insides were being ripped apart by her rejection of him. Even though she hadn't verbalized her rejection he knew it was just a matter of time before she found the words.
Samantha could tell that he was trying to sound normal, but she knew he was battling other feelings within himself. She tried to carry on the façade though because she didn't know what to tell him. "Oh, I just woke up, I guess I'm hungry too. Got enough for two?"
Martin added more pasta to the pot and Samantha pulled down an extra plate. She went through the motions of setting the table and trying to "act normal." She thought of this past week, everything had been so fluid with Martin, she hadn't had to worry about the "right way to act" around him, but now it was different. They began to eat and the silence seemed to permeate the entire apartment. Finally, Martin looked at Samantha and queried, "So what do people do during the week when they don't go to work? I've been up for about an hour and I'm completely bored."
Samantha laughed at his comment, glad to finally let out a true emotion. "I think that you're asking the wrong person, I work more hours than you do." But that's the problem with small talk, it's small and usually short and after a few sentences you are back to silence.
As Samantha twirled her fork in the remains of the pasta that Martin had made she broke the silence. "OK, Martin, last night you told me I didn't have to spare your feelings and that I have to be honest; so here goes. You have been amazing this week, absolutely amazing. You've anticipated my feelings and been a rock for me when I've been like jelly. If my whole life were as eventful as this one well, well I'd probably kill myself, but seriously, I would definitely take a risk on having a relationship with you, but ... that's not my life. That was a weird week in the middle of a boring year of my humdrum life and so I can't rely on my current feelings. I have to go back to the baseline and Martin, baseline is that I didn't feel that way about you." She took a deep breath. She had spoken the rational, letting her mind control her heart. She tried to reassure herself that her decision was sound, based in fact and reality, not this fantasy life that she'd been living in this past week.
Martin had stopped eating, but he simply stared at his plate and didn't attempt to speak. He heard the words he'd been dreading, he had to face them and couldn't pretend that he had misread her face last night. He forced himself to raise his head and look into her eyes, "Thank you, Samantha. Thank you for the truth as you believe it is now. And even though you are telling me that you feel this way, I'm still glad that I revealed my feelings to you. I'm glad that I didn't keep on hiding away those feelings wondering if you were guessing at them and avoiding me or if you were oblivious, but felt the same. I'm still glad, I'll always be glad."
Samantha felt guilt rising up inside of her, it was because of her that he was feeling the pain of being unwanted. She wanted to hold him and take away his pain as he had with hers, but she knew that she could not. All she could do was offer him a simple, "I'm sorry, Martin."
He shook his head, "Don't be, Samantha. You've done nothing to be sorry about." And he meant it, the weight of no longer pretending and not knowing had been lifted and he actually felt better. Obviously, he didn't feel as good as he could have had she reciprocated his feelings, but he did feel better with the knowledge of where each of them stood. He knew that there was a void in his heart and that it would take time to heal, time and distance from Samantha.
To change the subject, Martin suggested, "Hey, let's do something this afternoon, we are both bored already, so let's get out of here. We'll catch of matinee or go to a ball game; something that we don't get to do because we work too much."
"Sounds good," Samantha replied, grateful at the thought of doing something rather than sitting around in silence all day. "I'll go get ready."
When Samantha had left the room, he made a call to Vivian, still his acting supervisor. "Viv, it's Martin. I need to take some time off."
"Oh, don't worry about today, or this week even, I marked you and Samantha sick. Jack filled me in on what happened. Is she okay? Are you?" Vivian asked.
"Yes, we're both okay, physically. It was pretty intense though. But I need to take some serious time off. Like a month. Do you think you could approve that?"
Vivian was surprised by Martin's request after all he put in so many hours each week at the office, "Are you really alright Martin?"
"Well, my mother called and she sounded sick, but she wouldn't go into it with me," Martin lied. "I'm really worried about her and want to be there for her, you know, without worrying about work and stuff."
Vivian sounded like she bought the story and approved the leave. Martin just had to convince Samantha of the lie and he'd be gone. He didn't know where he would go to try to force thoughts of Samantha out of his head, but he knew that he couldn't go on seeing her everyday at work and pretend that nothing had been said, that his feelings just disappeared.
Samantha reappeared about a half an hour later, freshly showered, her hair still glistening from being wet. "I'm ready to get out of here," she pronounced.
Martin grabbed his coat and away they went. The afternoon was fun as they relished the sunlight that they normally only viewed through their office windows. Martin tried to commit every action of Samantha's to memory, every tilt of her head, every laugh. He wanted to remember this moment because he knew it would be the last for a long time. Finally, just before they retired to their own rooms for the evening, Martin spoke, "Samantha, I got a call from my mom today, while you were in the shower. I think she's sick. She wouldn't tell me all of the details, but I don't know ..." he let his voice trail off, like he was contemplating a horrible death for his mother. "I'm going to take some time off, to be with her. I'm leaving tomorrow."
Martin could see the concern on Samantha's face and he knew that she believed every word he said. It was his turn to feel guilty. "Martin, I'm so sorry, do you want me to come with you? I could be there for you," Samantha offered.
"No, no, I think it needs to be my mother and me, but thanks for the offer." Martin felt like the lowest form of person on the earth, he never wanted to lie to Samantha, but couldn't think of any other options. "I was thinking, that since my place is going to be empty, if you wanted to stay here you could. At least until you feel better about going back to your place or somewhere else."
Samantha began to protest, she couldn't use his apartment while he was gone, but Martin cut in, "Please, it would make me happy to know that you are safe and that you feel safe."
Samantha gave in, "Of course, I'll accept your offer, plus your place is much neater than mine." She smiled and he savored it and committed it to memory like the others he had stored from the day. She spoke, "Well, I'll see you in the morning?" He could hear the hopefulness in her voice and although he was planning to leave before she awoke he couldn't bear to disappoint her.
He replied, "Yes, you'll see me in the morning. Goodnight, Samantha." He said her name one last time before heading to bed and wondered how he would ever get by without seeing her face everyday.
The next morning was a blur of activity. Samantha was determined to return to work, despite Martin's protestations. Martin was finishing last minute packing, still trying to figure out where he was going to go. They both approached the apartment door at the same time to leave. Samantha embraced Martin, "I hope that your mom is okay. You know my phone number, give me a call if you need me. Oh, hell, give me a call anyway." She saw him looking at her, almost longingly, and added impulsively, "We're going to be okay." It was a command, not a questions, as if she were reassuring Martin. He nodded, but couldn't utter any words. With that Martin was gone.
TBC
