It rang twice before he answered. “Hello?” I could hear the twins in the background.
“Gimme it!”
“Bubba, stop!”
My husband sighed, and I could hear their cries growing softer as I assumed he was walking away from them. “Sorry, can you hear me?”
I giggled, crossing my arms and staring at my reflection. The woman who stood before me was practically a stranger. Her strength had been forged from the tough times she’d endured. The wrinkles already beginning to develop at just twenty-eight were well earned.
“I was calling to see how it’s going, but I guess I have my answer,” I told him, grinning to myself.
“No, it’s fine. They’re playing bird doctor right now and fighting over who gets to play with the stuffed parrot Lucy got from the zoo.”
“Bird doctor, hm? That’s a new one.”
“Never a dull moment,” he said with a long breath. “Did you make it okay? Are you there?”
“I’m here,” I said, my eyes traveling up the light charcoal walls toward the intricate wisps and swirls of the ceiling above me, and falling back to the mirror. “I wish you were here with me.”
“Trust me, I wish I was too.” I heard a crash in the distance and suddenly someone was crying.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” I heard Hudson shouting over his sister’s wails.
My body tensed, missing them so much already. “Is she okay? What happened?” I asked, listening to my husband’s panicked breathing as he rushed toward them.
“Everything’s fine. Just a bump.” His words were drowned out by Lucy’s loud cries, and I cradled the phone in my hands, wishing it was her.
“Hey, baby,” I said, trying to comfort her from so far away. It was no use. She couldn’t hear me.
“Hey, I’ve gotta get off here and take care of this. I’ll call you back in a bit, okay?” he called over the line.
I nodded, though he couldn’t see me, and then her cries were cut short as the call ended. I dropped my hands to my sides, staring closer at my reflection in the mirror. My copper-brown curls had fallen flat during the drive in, flyaways sticking up in every direction. Black mascara had creased under my eyes, the rest of my makeup dry and cakey.
I swiped a finger under each eye and pulled a ponytail holder from my bag, twisting my hair into a bun. I should start writing. I needed to get a few chapters knocked out before dinner, but I didn’t want to. Not yet.
I wanted a drink.
I considered calling down for room service, but I didn’t want to wait. Instead, I’d go down to the hotel lounge and have a drink to settle in, then dive straight into the story.
I dug through my bag, searching for leave-in conditioner and swiping a small amount across my hair to tame the flyaways and then made my way back to the door.
I rode the elevator down to the lobby again, my heels clicking across the marble floor as I followed the signs that led to the hotel lounge, ignoring the sign that told me the other direction, left, would take me to the ballroom.
The room filled with memories.
Then again, this entire place was filled with haunting memories. A chill ran over my arms at the thought, and I rubbed them quickly, trying to ease the goose bumps.
“Cait? Oh my god!” a familiar voice called out to me, and I heard his shoes clicking across the floor before I turned to face him. His blond hair had been neatly cut, a faint trace of blond stubble on his strong chin. His build, once long and lean, had filled out, taut muscles poking out from under the gray waffle-knit shirt.
“Sam?” I asked, trying to remain calm, though I suspected my eyes had betrayed me. “What are you doing here?”
“Same as you, genius.” He pulled me into a hug, both arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders. My nerve endings tingled under his touch, my heart ready to explode. As if we hadn’t spent the better portion of ten years apart, my body slid into place in his arms, every bit as familiar and safe as I’d felt back then.
We stayed like that, arms wrapped around each other for far too long, neither of us ready to let go. I felt cool tears pricking my eyes when he finally released me, leaning back but keeping his hands on my shoulders. “God, you look great,” he said, smiling widely as his eyes raked down the length of my body, then back up. “You haven’t aged a day.”
“Well, you’re a good liar,” I said, my cheeks pinkening as I batted back tears, praying they wouldn’t fall. “But thank you. It’s so good to see you.”
“I didn’t know if you’d come.” His eyes danced between mine.
“I’m sorry, I saw your text. I meant to respond, but, truth be told, I wasn’t sure I was going to come until…well, until I pulled into the parking lot, really.”
His nod was understanding. “Hey, no problem. I just assumed Ms. Celebrity was busy and hadn’t seen the message.” My ears burned red as he teased me, and I tucked my chin to my chest, placing a stray piece of hair behind my ear.
“Oh, it’s not like that…”
He wasn’t wrong about my inbox being full, but that wasn’t why I hadn’t answered. “Besides, I wasn’t sure if I was coming, either. Honestly, if you’d said you weren’t, I might not have,” he went on.
My chest was tight with sudden guilt. “Really?” Sam had been my best friend once, and I hadn’t been fair to him over the years. We hadn’t spoken for years after graduation, but he’d always been there for me when I needed him. He was the man of honor at my wedding, but after that, our calls had gone from weekly, to monthly, then even more sporadic. At that point, it had likely been more than a year since we’d spoken, and I was entirely to blame for the unreturned calls and texts. Sam had tried, always, even when it wasn’t his place, but I’d retreated after everything that happened. I couldn’t bear to face him.
To face anyone.
“Yeah, I mean, you’re the only one I care about seeing.” There was something a little too honest about his words, and I forced myself to look away. He swiped his hand through his hair, tucking it into his pocket. “Hey, have you already checked in?”
“Yeah, I’ve got my room…” My eyes landed on his suitcase still waiting by the front desk. The redheaded receptionist was watching us intently, as if we were her favorite soap opera.
“Cool, I’m getting mine now.” He followed my gaze back toward his bag. “Listen, can you hang on a sec? Let me get my key?”
“I was just going to get a drink,” I said, staring longingly at the entrance to the lounge just a few feet in front of us. I desperately needed some liquid courage if I was going to make it through the next few hours, let alone the next few days.
“Okay, I’ll have them take my bag up, then, and meet you in there.”
I nodded, my heart fluttering. Being in a hotel alone with Sam was a bad enough idea. Drinking alone in a hotel with Sam was even worse. I knew my husband wouldn’t have cared. He trusted me implicitly, and I’d never given him a reason not to, but being back in this place was like stepping into the past.
I didn’t trust myself.
I made my way toward the bar, where a bald man with a handlebar mustache was waiting. He grinned, leaning across the counter as if he’d been waiting for me. I pulled my eyes from the crooked, scarlet bow tie at the base of his neck.