Page 8 of Holiday Situationship

The game continues, with each couple fielding questions about the past, navigating unexpected and sometimes awkward queries with humor. Each answer reveals something about the couple and their history together, including Annie’s and mine. The game does more than break the ice. It’s a reminder of the bond Annie and I have always had, one that runs deeper than we’ve allowed ourselves to admit.

After several rounds, I find myself more entranced by Annie’s responses, her insights and anecdotes paint a picture of a romantic relationship that feels almost real. I chuckle softly. Annie’s always had a way with words. It amazes me how she can weave a believable story on the spot. The truth is her answers resonate with me more than she knows.

“Last question. I need my beauty sleep,” Hannah yawns, but whatever’s on the card, perks her right back up. “This is a good one. “Who said “I love you” first?

Annie shifts slightly in her chair, crossing and uncrossing her legs as if trying to find a comfortable position. But there’s nothing comfortable about being put on the spot. Her fingers toy nervously with the stem of her wine glass. She takes a sip, clearly buying time as her gaze flits around the room, briefly meeting curious, patient eyes. Her cheeks tinge with a faint blush when her eyes meet mine. A flicker of uncertainty lingers there, a silent plea for reassurance. And we all wait, anticipating her answer, but no one is as on edge as much as me.

Annie clears her throat, and for a second, I wonder if she remembers or if she’ll admit it to the group—or to me. We’ve never talked about that night. There are so many times I wanted to bring it up, but the time didn’t feel right. After a while, so much time passed that it became this uncomfortable weight, so I buried it, realizing we’d never talk about it.

“I did,” she blurts out, still holding my gaze. “It was my birthday, and I was feeling a little down. Summer was ending and back then I thought my life was flashing before my eyes.” She pauses and stifles a laugh. “What do kids know anyway? When we’re young, we think thirty is over the hill.”

The couples murmur in agreement, chuckling and groaning. But I’m too focused on Annie and what she’ll say next. Things between us have been left unsaid for far too long.

“Sam showed up on my doorstep grinning ear to ear. He dragged me outside and told me we were going to have the best night of our lives.” Annie blinks, her cheeks heating to a rosy shade of pink. My heart pounds against my chest, the pop and hiss of the fireplace pinging like fireworks in the background. “He had two tickets to a concert playing in town that night and I may have gone a little overboard with the fan girl bit. I mean, what girl wouldn’t? It was an all-star lineup with Deep Thunder headlining, and the Cherry Poppers and Lies & Lullabies opening. Their concerts sold out within minutes online, and after market tickets were way out of my budget. I squealed like the teenage girl I was and threw my arms around Sam’s neck, repeating "I love you” a million times.”

My heart sinks. I remember that night, but it isn’t the night I’d hoped she’d remember. I force a smile, hiding my disappointment. My chest tightens, the moment of possibility slipping through my fingers like sand.

CHAPTER 5

***

Annie

Awkwardness hangs in the air like thick fog as we return to our room for the evening. The lighthearted evening we spent laughing with everyone shifts, leaving strangled tension in its wake. We stand at the foot of the bed, looking out at the sea of stars in strained silence. I can’t imagine how weird things would be if I’d confessed the truth—the first time I professed true love for Sam, rather than that of only friendship.

“You take the bed,” Sam says, breaking the silence. He gathers a blanket from the foot of the bed. “I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I say, missing the easy connection Sam and I had before agreeing to this trip. “We can flip a coin or something.”

There’s plenty of room for us to share it, but the queen-sized bed suddenly seems small and intimate.

He shakes his head, resigned to give my comfort precedence over his own. “No, really. It’s fine.”

Reluctantly, I nod, accepting his chivalry. We take turns changing clothes in the bathroom, the door clicking shut as we navigate unfamiliar territory. When I return from changing into my pajamas, Sam is stretched out on the floor in a makeshift bed of blankets and pillows. He looks up at me with forlorn eyes, so uncomfortable, my heart pinches.

“Goodnight, Annie,” he says so tenderly, my heart aches.

“Goodnight, Sam,” I whisper. I climb into the lonely bed and pull the covers up to my chin.

I lie wide awake, listening to the gentle rhythm of Sam’s breathing while looking out into the starry night. The stars hold all our secrets, twinkling unspoken words and lingering hopes. Guilt and heartache weigh on my conscience. Keeping each other at arm’s length will only lead us further apart.

“Sam,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” he answers quietly. “What’s on your mind?”

I hesitate, taking a deep breath to gather my courage. “There’s plenty of room up here.” My pulse races, and the deep thud of my beating heart echoes in my ears. I sit up and pull back the covers. “Please come to bed.”

***

Sam

Surprise and relief ease my troubled mind. Annie’s invitation carries more weight than she realizes. Even if our relationship never blossoms beyond tonight, at least she still trusts me.

I sit up, hesitating for a moment to make sure she means it. Her earnest expression and open space beside her give me all the reassurance I need. I slip into the bed, careful not to disturb the delicate balance we’re creating, and pull the covers to my chest, feeling the warmth of her body beside me.

When we were kids, we never gave situations like this a second thought. We camped in my backyard, side by side in sleeping bags. We binge-watched movies on pallets made of sofa cushions, pillows and blankets on the basement floor. We gazed at the stars lying side by side in the grass, never awkward, hesitant, or self-conscious until that one night when everything changed.

We lie on our backs in silence, shoulder to shoulder, our arms brushing against one another. The delicate touch of her arm against mine sends a gentle charge through me. I focus on my heart beat, her hushed breathing, and the stars that surround us. It’s intimate in a way that surpasses friendship, yet the boundary that traps us is shrouded in silence and secrecy.

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