Page 26 of Dr. Roz Harrington
Sam’s reply was quick, her tone playful.
Sam:“Complicated good or complicated bad?”
Roz let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she typed back.
Roz:“Both.”
Sam:“Sounds like I’m doing something right.”
Roz stared at the screen, her smile fading as a new wave of emotions washed over her. Sam’s lighthearted banter was alifeline, a reminder of the warmth and connection she had felt in their stolen moments. But it also made her feel exposed, vulnerable in a way she wasn’t sure she could handle.
She set the phone down, leaning back against the couch as she closed her eyes. The silence of the apartment pressed in around her, and for the first time in years, Roz felt truly unmoored. She had always known exactly who she was and exactly what she wanted. But now? Now she wasn’t so sure.
The wineglass was nearly empty when she picked up her phone again. Her fingers moved over the screen, typing out the words she hadn’t been able to say aloud.
Roz:“You’re making me feel things I didn’t know I could. I don’t know what to do with that.”
She stared at the message for a long moment, her thumb hovering over the send button. Her chest tightened, a mix of fear and longing warring within her. Finally, she exhaled and hit send.
The message disappeared, leaving only silence in its wake. Roz set the phone down and leaned back, the faint hum of the city outside her window a soothing backdrop to the chaos in her mind.
For now, the walls she had spent so long building were still standing, but she knew they wouldn’t hold forever. And maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want them to.
7
SAM
The clang of equipment and the echo of shouted instructions filled the firehouse drill yard. Sam stood at the center of the chaos, her sharp blue eyes scanning the scene, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The team moved through a simulated rescue, hauling hoses and maneuvering ladders with practiced precision. It should have been just another routine drill, something Sam excelled at managing, but today, her focus wavered.
Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Roz. She could still feel the phantom touch of Roz’s hands on her, the memory of her voice low and teasing in her ear. Roz had an uncanny ability to invade her mind at the most inconvenient moments, and this was no exception.
“Captain?” Jack Mitchell’s voice broke through her haze. “You good?”
Sam blinked, snapping her attention back to the scene in front of her. One of the junior firefighters was struggling to secure a knot, the rope slipping awkwardly through his hands. Sam strode forward, barking instructions. “Tighter grip. Keep your weight balanced. You lose that knot, you lose the load.”
The rookie nodded, his movements stiff as he corrected his form. Sam stepped back, hands on her hips, but her mind was already slipping again. The tension in Roz’s green eyes, the way she said her name like it was both a challenge and a promise—it all played on a loop, pulling her focus from the task at hand.
When the drill ended, the team gathered around to debrief. Sam ran through the motions, pointing out errors, offering praise where it was due, but her voice lacked its usual sharp edge. The firefighters dispersed, their chatter fading as they returned to the station.
Jack lingered, watching her with a knowing look. “Alright, spill it,” he said, leaning against a nearby wall. “What’s going on with you?”
Sam frowned, turning away as she wiped her hands on a towel. “Nothing. Just tired.”
Jack snorted. “Come on, Cap. I’ve worked with you long enough to know when something’s eating at you. You’re not exactly subtle.”
Sam’s jaw tightened, her back still to him. “It’s nothing, Jack. Drop it.”
“Sure.” Jack crossed his arms, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve been distracted all week for no reason. Definitely sounds like nothing.”
Sam turned to face him, her expression hard. “You done?”
Jack held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Just saying, if you need to talk, I’m here.”
Sam sighed, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “I appreciate it, but it’s not something I can talk about.”
“Not something or notsomeone?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sam froze for a beat, her defenses slipping for just a moment before she composed herself. “It’s complicated.”
