Chapter 4
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After a few more minutes of tossing and turning, Sam knew that sleep was not going to happen so decided to go for a run. She threw on her shorts and tank, laced up her sneakers and headed out the door.
As soon as she exited her building she hit the ground running. She could feel the tension dissipating with each step. One, two, one, two…. Sam loved the feeling of running, of being able to push her body as far as it would go. She made the loop around her neighborhood and past the school where Martin witnessed a kidnapping on that fateful morning when Jack discovered their secret.
She knew that Martin was threatened by Jack, thinking that he was the reason why she didn't want anyone to know about them. She insisted that wasn't the case but she never did anything to convince him otherwise. If she were to be completely honest with her self, there was some truth to it. She still felt a pull towards Jack. She didn't know why that was exactly but she wasn't ready to completely let him go. And maybe a part of her didn't want Jack to find out because it would make what he and she shared seem like it meant less. But that was just one part of the equation. She also did not want the entire office to think that she was just sleeping her way around. She knew how it looked: sleeping with her boss and then with the Deputy Director's son, that was exactly the kind of fodder on which the office gossips thrived. She worked too hard to be considered the office tramp.
Of course, thought Sam, if you were so concerned about your reputation then why did you invite Martin home that night? Because I wanted to, I wanted him. She didn't think about what the ramifications would be the following day, she just felt that the time was right. She was surprised that her perceived one night stand would lead to a relationship. She should have known better. While she was accustomed to "complicated" relationships, anyone could tell by looking at Martin that he was the kind of guy who was in it for the long haul.
Sam didn't fully realize that Martin had become so ingratiated into her life until after they broke up and they had to go through the time-old ritual celebrated by exes everywhere: the property exchange. After an adequate amount of time has passed, the two individuals arrange a time and place to exchange various paraphernalia that was left behind. Now, if the end of a relationship was particularly painful or ugly, some of those items may have been inadvertently broken, ripped, burned, or tossed into the Hudson. But that was neither here nor there.
A week after they split-up, Martin approached her in the break room and asked if he could come by and pick up a few things that he had left at her place. Still feeling hurt and angry, she told him that she would gather any items of his and bring them to him here at work. He reluctantly agreed and said he would do the same.
That evening Sam got an empty box and wandered around her apartment gathering anything that belonged to Martin. She started her Martin Fitzgerald scavenger hunt in the living room: there were CDs, DVDs, magazines, a pair of running shoes under the sofa, and the watch he thought he had lost a month ago was discovered between the couch cushions. She headed into the kitchen, and surprisingly there were quite a few items in there as well. There were three of his top-of-the-line stainless steel coffee travel mugs that Sam liked. So, after a bit of contemplation, two actually made it into the box. In the hall closet she found his basketball, another pair of running shoes (Just how many did he own?), an umbrella, three gloves, a scarf, and a raincoat.
At that point she realized that not only had she filled the box, but some of the items were spilling out. She quickly ran downstairs to the laundry room and got a couple more large boxes just in case.
Next stop was the bathroom: there was his razor, a toothbrush, comb, an almost empty bottle of shampoo and an almost full one of conditioner. Sam chucked the shampoo and packed the conditioner. There was also a bar of soap that when Sam held it up to her nose and sniffed, smelled just like Martin. She held it in her hand and decided that she didn't have anything to wrap it in, and not wanting to ruin any other items in the box, placed it back on her shower rack.
Finally, there was the bedroom. It was in this room that the full impact of what she was doing hit her. She wasn't just packing up Martin's belongings, she was packing up Martin. From his god-awful shirts and tacky ties to the books on the nightstand, his presence was everywhere. Sam held up his favorite Harvard t-shirt to her face and inhaled the heady scent that was undeniably Martin. She stood there taking in his aroma before finally tossing the item back in the box and chastising herself for such unprecedented sentimentality. How could this man, who was a million miles away from her "type," become so important to her? How did he manage to sneak under her relationship radar and plant himself and his things so firmly and palpably into her life?
Looking back in the box, Sam picked up the t-shirt and quickly stuffed it into her dresser drawer, willfully choosing to ignore the implications of what the action meant. She promptly finished packing the boxes and took them downstairs to her car.
The following day she was sure to park next to Martin so that after work they could easily exchange their boxes. The elevator ride down to the parking garage was filled with awkward conversation about the case they were working. As soon as the elevator stopped they both rushed out, proving the adage: too close for comfort.
Sam clicked the button on her keychain to pop open her trunk and Martin moved the three full boxes to his car without bothering to check the contents. When he was done loading, he pulled a small plastic grocery bag from the backseat of his car and handed it to Sam.
"Thanks, where's the rest of it?" Sam questioned as she looked into the bag.
"That's all of it." He replied, his expression unreadable.
"It can't it?" Sam looked at him completely dumbfounded. She had three boxes worth of Martin's stuff and they spent as much time at his apartment as hers. How was it possible that she had only left one CD, a toothbrush, and a sweatshirt at his place? If it were any other man she would have been suspicious but she knew that Martin was speaking the truth.
He muttered a quick, "Thanks," before getting into his car and driving away. Sam was left standing there with the realization that if the only tangible evidence she had left in his life could fit in this tiny bag, she never even really gave him a chance.
