Chapter Twelve
"What were you and Rebecca talking about in Italian?" I asked Sam as we lay in bed together the next morning. I yawned before gazing up at her when she rolled over to stretch her palm out over my stomach.
"You." She nipped my cheek and I smiled. "And how I learned so many languages."
"You said other stuff. I recognized a few words." I stroked her arm and she brushed her lips over mine.
"Like what?"
"Basement. She's said it before when she was upset. And my name." I glanced to the windows as the sun rose over the harbor, sending its rays streaming into the bedroom.
"Caught that, did you?" She tucked my hair behind my ear. "She said that I should make sure that you eat because sometimes you don't."
"Because my mother kept me in a basement sometimes." I glanced at her and she nodded.
"Yeah, baby. She said Alex is the same way with food, but I knew that. I saw it the other night."
"Some things linger," was all I could manage to say.
"You know, Rosie. Sometimes I wonder how you survived everything and how you're still able to love, and work. Your heart stayed kind and your mind is focused. You're talented and so smart. And then sometimes I compare your trials to my own. One thing happened to me, and I can't sit still with myself or wear a scarf. How are you so resilient?" She poured out her feelings while toying with my bangs. I ran my knuckle down her chest and she hugged my arm to her.
"Anita says we shouldn't compare traumas. No one's suffering is greater or less than anyone else's," I told her, placing my palm against her cheek. "What happened to you was just as horrible, Sam."
"I just...I want to know how you're so resilient and I'm not." She leaned into my touch and let out a soft sigh.
"Yes, you are. You're incredibly resilient and you don't even know it. You're a successful doctor—well in demand from my understanding. You have friends and worldly experience that I can only dream about. You've traveled, immersed yourself in different cultures, speak a million languages it seems. You've done a lot whereas, I might seem resilient, but I haven't been anywhere except home, work, Rebecca's, or to the store in years. I mean, not until you came around…"
"You go to Ainsley's and the salon."
"Yeah. They're right next to the store." I smirked and she chuckled. "Resilience is measured differently in everyone, Sam. Everyone."
"Emotionally, you're resilient then," she said, her tone firm. "Why?"
"Well, growing up I had my grandmother who raised me and gave me a great foundation until she died. I had eight solid years of love and kindness. I knew what it meant to be loved. A few terrible years with my mother didn't erase that and when I escaped, Rebecca's family saved me. She never got to adopt me, but they call me their daughter. They love me and I love them. There was never a question. I also had therapy from the time I was like thirteen. All of that together. I also had Alex. I wasn't alone in the bad things like foster care and such. She and I were able to keep connected." I brushed my thumb over her lips and she nodded. "You had no one. You were alone. And what happened to you was violent, sudden, and horrifying, Sam. What happened to me, although a form of violence, wasn't active violence. I knew what was happening. I understood it. Even though it was terrible, I understood what was happening. And I remember everything."
Quiet tears trickled down her cheeks while she watched me, seemingly pondering my monologue. She brought my palm to her lips and kissed it. "I have you," she said, her voice soft.
"You do." I cupped her face in my hands. "We have each other."
Samirah nodded, and returned to resting beside me. We tangled together while holding on to each other and tumbled into our thoughts. She rested her chin on my head and I kissed her clavicle.
"I loved that you played violin for me," she whispered, against my ear. "Will you do it again?"
"Of course." I leaned back, smiling when our gazes met. "If you promise to play, too."
"I haven't played anything since my father died. Last night was…"
"Beautiful." I kissed her quickly. "Like you."
"No, Rosie. Like you." She urged me back into the kiss then ended it to sigh. "Like you."
I wanted to tell her how I felt about her. To assign a word to every intense emotion I held for her, but I didn't. Not yet. Part of me worried about scaring her away. Instead, I hugged her and she rubbed my back in soft circles.
"Are you sure you're okay with going to Caroline's tonight?" she asked, her voice remaining in quiet tones.
"I am." I draped my leg over her hip and she stroked my thigh in a firm grip. "Have you slept with Caroline?"
She nodded, though the way she caressed me didn't stop. "In scenes only. We're not compatible at all otherwise."