The walk back from the Avimor was just what Sam needed to clear her head. The collision with Hank, the way he’d stuck around, his insistence on having his sister patch her up—it all left her unsettled. Hank wasn’t supposed to be... that kind of guy. He was supposed to be Charming Charlie, the park playboy she despised, not someone genuinely concerned about her well-being.
Yet there he was, inviting her back to the park tomorrow with a casual “same time tomorrow?”
She shook her head, trying to push the thought away as she rounded the corner onto her street. The familiar sight of Miguel’s flower stand came into view, a burst of color against the gray of the city.
Miguel spotted her and gave a wave. “Sam! You’re back earlier than usual today.”
“Yeah, I took a tumble on my walk today,” Sam replied, offering a small smile and pointing to the bandage on her head.
Miguel nodded toward Mozz. “I hope you’re alright. Mozz giving you trouble again?”
Sam chuckled. “Always.”
As she approached her building, Preston, the doorman, opened the door with a nod. “Ms. Pruit, welcome home.”
“Thank you,” Sam said with a polite smile, stepping inside.
Sam could tell he noticed her head but didn’t intrude by asking what happened. She appreciated this about him. He never stuck his nose into other people’s business. Discretion was his hallmark.
Sam made her way toward the elevator, the silence of the building wrapping around her like a comforting blanket.
Once inside her apartment, Sam kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto the couch, her mind still spinning from the morning’s events. Mozz curled up at her feet, already settling into his post-walk nap.
The apartment was quiet, still, as it always was. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and join Mozz in a nap. Sleep off the headache. But if she was concussed that may not be the best idea.
She should write. Complete the article she’d been editing the past week. But Hank’s face kept flashing in her mind. How gentle he had been when helping her up. The way he had insisted on getting her checked out. It didn’t fit the box she’d placed him in.
Sam pulled out her phone, tapping the screen absently until she landed on Cass’s number. She hit “call” and brought the phone to her ear, waiting as it rang.
“Hey sis!” Cass’s voice was as bright and cheerful as ever. “What’s up? You never call this early.”
“I had... a weird morning,” Sam said, sinking deeper into the couch.
Sam hesitated, not quite sure where to start. She ran a hand through her hair, still trying to make sense of it all. “Okay, so I went to the park this morning, like I always do. And guess who I literally ran into?”
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“You didn’t!” Cass gasped, clearly excited. “Was it Charming Charlie?”
Sam groaned. “Yes, his name is Hank and technically he ran into me. Mozz took off after a squirrel so I tried to grab him, and the next thing I know, Hank was crashing into me. We both went flying.”
Cass burst out laughing. “Oh my god, that’s amazing. Was it a romcom-worthy meet-cute? Did he land on top of you? Did he help you up and look deeply into your eyes?”
Sam groaned. “It was not cute. It was embarrassing. And now he wants to meet up again tomorrow.”
Cass let out a little gasp. “Sam! He asked you to see him again?”
“Sort of.” Sam frowned. “He insisted that I get checked out by his sister, who happens to be a surgeon, and is really nice by the way. Then, on the way out of her apartment he said, ‘Same time tomorrow.’ Like it was no big deal.”
“SAM!” Cass squealed. “He likes you.”
“Cass, no. He flirts with everyone,” Sam countered, already feeling her chest tighten. “He’s Charming Charlie, remember.”
Cass’s tone shifted, becoming more serious. “Okay, fine but what’s the harm in letting him flirt with you too? How long has it been since you’ve had a good fuck?”
Sam choked on her saliva. “Jesus, Cass. The last thing I need is to see some guy I had a one-night stand with on a daily basis as he jogs by me in the park. It’s way too risky.”
Cass let out a sigh. “Are you really going to allow something a crazy old fortune teller said to dictate your entire life? Honestly Sam, she said your first love would die young. You’re almost 40. How much longer are you going to let this control you?”
Sam rolled her eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. She’d heard this lecture before and she should have known Cass would lead the conversation here. The prophecy had been hanging over her head for 25 years, shaping every decision she’d made.
No friends, no dating, no relationships beyond surface level. She did indulge in the occasional one-night stand but only with perfect strangers she knew she’d never see again.
“Forever, I guess,” she admitted quietly.
“Oh, Sam,” Cass said softly. “You can’t keep living your life like this. It’s been over two decades. You’ve got to move on.”
“I can’t,” Sam whispered. “What if it’s true? What if I fall in love with someone, and they... die?”
Cass’s voice softened. “Sam, no one can predict the future. That fortune teller was just trying to make a quick buck.”
“But what if she wasn’t?” Sam insisted, her throat tight. “What if it really happens?”
“Sam, you deserve to be happy,” Cass said gently. “You can’t keep running from life because of a ‘what if.’ You’ve already lost so much time.”
Sam closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the couch. She knew Cass was right. She knew she was being irrational. But the fear was still there, always lurking, always keeping her on the sidelines.
“I just... I don’t know,” Sam finally said. “It’s easier this way.”
“Maybe,” Cass said. “But is it better?”
Sam didn’t answer. She didn’t know how to.
After a few moments of silence, Cass reverted back into her usual casual tone. “Okay, well, promise me you’ll at least think about banging him? Because I–and by that I mean you, need this.”
“Like I need a hole in my head,” Sam said, through a laugh.
After they hung up, Sam sat in the quiet ruminating over the morning’s events.
Her life had always been about control—controlling her emotions, controlling her interactions, controlling her heart. But Hank had knocked all of that off balance.
Her phone buzzed in her hand. A new number. Her stomach flipped at the mere thought of Hank. Was it him sending Lilah’s number?
It was her eye doctor, reminding her of her appointment tomorrow morning.
“Shit. I completely forgot.” She muttered aloud, looking over at Mozz. “I guess there won’t be any ‘same time tomorrow’ after all.”