Page 55 of Whispers on the Water

After distributing Styrofoam containers, we eat, mostly in silence. With Tilly’s return, there is a gradual shift in her demeanor. It’s a slow process, but before long, we’re throwing out small jokes between the three of us. These hints of comfort fill me with a sense of cautious optimism. She might not have fully forgiven me yet, but it feels like I am inching closer to mending the rift between us.

***

After settling in with a movie and indulging in some room service ice cream, the atmosphere grows solemn as we all prepare for bed. The routine is almost mechanical—washing faces, brushing teeth, slipping into pajamas—all done without any flourish. But as Tilly and Sam claim the bed by the door, cuddling close, their giggling makes me groan.

“Night girls,” I say, flicking off the light.

“Night Greg,” they say in unison. They both laugh again at the way their voices came out in unison, and I put the extra pillow over my head.

Murmurs from their bed keep going. I catch words like ‘ew,’ and ‘sleep farts.’ I remove the pillow and sit up to hit them with my most menacing stare.

“Uh-oh Sammy. It’s grumpy Greg,” Tilly says, her tone light and playful. My eyes narrow until I hear Sam’s laugh.

God, that sound. I fucking missed that, and despite everything, a broad smile fills my face. “Go to sleep, Til.”

“What the hell? Why is this my fault? Sam’s laughing too!”

I flop myself back down with a dramatic harrumph. “You’re the instigator and we all know it.”

That only makes both of them laugh again. I make a show of flipping onto my side, presenting my back to them both.

Eventually, I’m able to tune their whispers out. I get it; they need girl talk. As much as I missed her, I know Tilly felt her absence more. The women have been living together for nearly eight years. I only claimed that space for a few months.

Finally, sleep washes over me. Since Sam left, I tossed and turned through the night in a restful haze. But tonight, seeing her safe, clearing the air and knowing what her future holds relaxes me into a practical coma.

Hours later, my peaceful, empty mind is awakened by the faint sound of movement. Assuming it’s a simple trip to the bathroom, I keep my eyes shut, but then I feel the unmistakable weight shift on my mattress. Turning, I find Sam easing under my covers.

“What’re you doing?” I whisper.

She offers no verbal response, instead opting to snuggle closer, her arm finding its way over my waist. Yet, as her breathing evens out, signaling her drift into sleep, I let the question go. The simple fact that she sought comfort in being this close fills me with an indescribable warmth. Her presence and trust in this small act are enough to swell my heart with contentment.

Chapter thirty-four

Sam

Afew hours after I made the bold choice to crawl into Greg’s bed, his phone shattered the night’s silence. Groggy and half-asleep, I reach for the nightstand, grab the annoying thing and practically throw it at him.

“Hello?” he says, half asleep, into the receiver. “Okay, I’ll let her know.” His words barely register as I take the phone back.

“What’d they say?” I mumble, not bothering to open my eyes. The act is so normal because we’ve spent so much time together. I basically lived at his apartment for three months.

“Flight leaves at 11 a.m.,” he says, the weight of his words slowly sinking in.

As he rolled over to cuddle against me, a sudden rush of awareness sparks my heart rate into a frenzy. His touch, meant to comfort, instead triggers a wave of panic, my breaths quickening in response. Greg’s arms tighten around me, his voice a soft whisper in the dark. “Relax, everything is going exactly to plan.”

Feeling overwhelmed, I lift his arm and move away, my feet finding the rough carpet on the floor. His voice follows, laced with concern. “Where are you going?”

“I shouldn’t have done this, I’m sorry,” I whisper back, the confusion and regret bubbling up. Greg reaches out. “Sam, wait. Talk to me, please.” The sincerity in his voice stops me in my tracks. I look back. His eyes lock onto mine.

Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I calm my breathing. But seeing the sincerity in his gaze, I know something for certain: he missed me. He needs me. It’s written all over his beautiful face. But I’m shaking my head. “I don’t deserve this. You’re so…” My voice trails off, unable to articulate what’s going on in my mind.

Greg moves closer, his warmth enveloping me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder. “Everyone deserves happiness and love. That’s all I want to give you, Sam,” he says. His lips graze on my skin, pressing a soft kiss to my back. “Stop punishing yourself, Samantha. I’m here, and I’m not leaving.”

Is that what I’ve been doing? Punishing myself? And what was that shit about everyone deserving love? Have I…do I think I don’t deserve it?

God, I’m a fucking mess. My face goes into my hands.

Greg hops out of the bed and is in front of me in an instant. “Sammy, come on. You’re breaking my heart here.”

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