“Yeah I do,” Sam whispered.
Jess’ smile fell from her face slightly. “Would you really expect me to not show up when you need help?”
Sam stayed silent, watching the way the light of the TV flickered across her face.
“You were going to do the same for me the other day,” Jess said, still looking straight ahead. “It’s no different.”
But itwasdifferent. It didn’t feel like it meant anything when she offered.
And maybe that was the difference. Maybe to Jess, it was no big deal.
But Jess showing up felt like—something.
“Why didn’t you tell me you guys broke up that day?” Sam asked quietly.
The muscle in Jess’ jaw shifted, the light from the TV flickering across it.
“You think I wanted to immediately tell—” She paused, as if contemplating her next words carefully. “Myex—about my freshly failed relationship?”
Sam blinked, absorbing her choice of words. Her mind clung to them, unable to process the rest. And she couldn’t help the smile that formed around the edges of her lips.
Jess gave her a sideways glance, instantly rolling her eyes. “Don’t—”
“That’s the first time you’ve called me that,” Sam said, laughter bubbling through her lips.
Maybe it should’ve made her feel bad in some way. It probably would have for most people—being reminded that they were the person of the past. But really, it did the opposite for her. It made what they had finally feel real. Like even though they’d never officially declared anything about what they were to each other, at least Jess felt like it was as serious as she did. As serious as what she had with Liz.
Jess groaned, but her own laughter came through with it. “I knew you wouldn’t let that slide.”
Sam’s grin widened, but she forced it down, relaxing her head back onto the couch.“You still could’ve told me.”
Jess snorted a dry laugh. “It was bad enough finding out I was dating your childhood best friend,” she muttered. “You guys comparing notes on the breakup and failed relationship would’ve been even worse.”
Sam pursed her lips, the words stirring uncomfortably within her. “You and I never broke up.”
Jess gave her a sidelong, pointed look. “Right.”
Sam’s brows pulled together as she shifted, sitting up straighter. “We didn’t,” she repeated, mustering whatever energy she could. “We never—”
Failed.
She stopped herself as that word entered her mind. It probably wasn’t important to Jess. The ending was the same. And maybe to her it was all the same as what she’d just gone through with Liz.
But for some reason, she didn’t want her to think of it that way. She wanted her to realize that they’d never really fully tried in the first place.
So how could she think they’d ever failed?
“We never really tried,” Sam whispered, more to herself. “So we never really—” Sam paused, swallowing. “Failed.”
Jess looked back at her, but her eyes held an unreadable look. Something careful—almost guarded.
And after a long moment, she finally turned, looking back at the TV.
At some point, Sam felt her eyelids begin to flutter closed. She couldn’t tell how long it had been, but the fever seemed to be taking over, pulling her from consciousness.
Her head bobbed, and she caught herself, tugging it upward as she blinked, trying to stay awake.
“Wanna try to sleep now?” Jess asked softly.