It's way past three in the morning, the casino is at its quietest and the moon is big and bright above Vegas.
Sleep is calling her but Danny has his feet inside the pool, a glass of wine by his side and he looks like the saddest, loneliest person out there. So she steps out and sits next to him. Their shoulders are almost touching. Almost.
"Hey."
"Hey," says Danny back. He even turns a little to smile at her like he always does but there's no twinkle in his eyes, no happiness, and suddenly he looks so much older than he is and Sam realises he has never seen him look so down and cold.
"What's up?" she asks and she looks away. She learned that it's easier to talk when nobody looks at you because you can pretend to be all alone in the world, and that nothing can hurt you, that nothing can break you. It's a pretty lie and she has lived by it her whole life.
"It's the anniversary of my mom's death today. I have trouble sleeping whenever the date comes up so here I am, waiting for the day that has barely started to finish so I can be Danny McCoy again and leave the sad boy that is not over his mom's death in the box I keep locked up 364 days per year."
Sam doesn't know what to say, doesn't know how to comfort him. She grew up learning how to hurt, not how to fix, so she just leans onto him because actions speak louder than words. Now their shoulders are touching—they are touching and Sam knows Danny appreciates the gesture because his lips find the top of her head and she feels him breath her scent in.
"I'm sorry about your mom, Danny."
His breath hitches and his body shakes, so she grabs his hand and holds it tight. "You know, it was—it was difficult losing her because she—I—"
"—Because you didn't lose her all at once," she says in a tone that indicates she understands him, somehow. "It happened gradually. She wasn't there for breakfast anymore. She wasn't there to kiss you goodnight anymore. You could no longer smell her scent from the pillows. You could no longer feel her hugs. You could no longer hear her voice so you forgot how she sounded when she said 'Danny', or 'I miss you' or 'I love you' and now every year you realise that she is gone forever and it just… hurts," Sam's voice is as light as a whisper, as light as a caress but the truth behind her every word is piercing his heart."It sucks because it's the little things that mean the most to us that also have the capacity to hurt us the most."
And it's when she stops talking that she sees how intensely Danny is looking at her. He has tiny, soft tears at the corner of his eyes and they're glistening, reflecting the moon above them and Sam doesn't understand how things so little and so sad as tears can shine so brightly in the darkness of the night.
"Have you lost someone you loved?"
She chuckles because she does not lose. She leaves before it even happens. But she remembers being little and thinking her dad was dead. Even if he was breathing and his heartbeat was still there, she still thought he was dead.
"My dad died years before he stopped breathing," she explains. "See: love killed him. It's stupid. He loved my mom so much but she was just so cold. In some twisted way, he thought—stupidly thought that his warmth could be enough for both of them, that he could melt the coldness away from her heart. But one day, he finally realised she never loved him—not the way he wanted her to—and he lost all his colours and became grey and tern and lifeless. My dad became a sad, sad man, and the essence that made him him died. So in way, he was dead way before he was dumped six feet under the ground. Love sucked the life out of him and it was ugly to watch. Love is ugly," she concludes in a flat tone she mastered over the years.
Sadness is trying to claw its nails in her throat but she tamed the sadness long ago so she clears it away, blinks a little and it's gone.
"I'm sorry, Sam. But thanks for telling me," Danny's voice is as warm as the arm he wraps around her. He is always warm, she notices.
"I could come with you, if you want."
"Where to?"
She hesitates an instant. Then repeats. "I could come with you. To see your mom's grave. I could come with you, later today, if you like so that you won't be alone."
She's not sure what possessed her to say that but the smile on his face is all she needs to know she was right to ask because his tears are bright with sadness but also with gratitude now and she feels good. Then he hugs her, holds her tight against his chest, and she feels content.
"Thank you," he whispers in her ear and right here, in Danny's arms, she feels like she could never be sad again.
