Page 28 of Dr. Roz Harrington
The pause this time was longer, and when Roz replied, her words carried a weight Sam could feel in her chest.
Roz:“It’s real to me, Sam. Even if we can’t show it. It’s real.”
Sam read the words over and over, her thumb brushing against the screen. She wanted to believe them, wanted to hold onto the truth in Roz’s message. But the strain was undeniable, and Sam wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep walking this tightrope.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, her thoughts spinning, before she typed her reply.
Sam:“I need more, Roz. I don’t know how, but I need more.”
The response didn’t come right away, and Sam set the phone aside, leaning back against the wall as she stared at the ceiling. The secrecy that had once felt thrilling now felt like a weight, pulling her down with every passing day. She hated how it made her question everything, even the connection she had with Roz.
When her phone buzzed again, Sam grabbed it immediately, her heart racing as she read Roz’s reply.
Roz:“I know. I just… I don’t want to lose you.”
Sam’s chest ached at the vulnerability in Roz’s words. She typed back, her fingers trembling slightly.
Sam:“You won’t. But I’m afraid we’re going to lose each other if we keep this up.”
There was no immediate reply this time, and Sam stared at the screen, her thoughts heavier than ever. She wanted to fight for what they had, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could fight alone.
Sliding the phone onto the table beside her, Sam lay back on the bunk, closing her eyes as exhaustion crept in. Roz’s words echoed in her mind, mingling with her own fears and desires.
It’s real to me.
It was real. Sam just hoped it could be enough.
Sam stood outside Roz’s office, her pulse quickening as she stared at the polished nameplate on the door:Dr. Rosalind Harrington.Her knuckles hovered for a moment before sheknocked lightly, the sound sharp against the quiet hum of the hospital hallway.
“Come in,” Roz’s voice called from inside, calm and professional.
Sam hesitated, her hand gripping the doorknob tighter than necessary before she turned it and stepped in. Roz was at her desk, bent over a chart, her pink hair catching the faint glow of the overhead light. For a moment, Sam just stood there, taking her in: the sharp focus, the elegance in her posture, the way Roz seemed completely untouchable. It was a stark contrast to the vulnerability Sam had seen in her during their stolen moments.
Roz didn’t look up right away. “I thought you’d be with Ben,” she said without glancing up.
“I was,” Sam said, closing the door softly behind her. “He’s doing okay. Stable.”
Roz’s pen paused, and she finally lifted her gaze. Her green eyes met Sam’s, and something in her expression shifted, subtle, almost imperceptible, but enough to make Sam’s chest tighten. “Good,” Roz said quietly. “What brings you here, then?”
Sam took a step forward, her boots scuffing slightly against the floor. “I needed to see you.”
Roz leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. Her face was composed, but her gaze was wary, guarded. “Here I am,” she said simply, her tone unreadable.
Sam felt a flicker of frustration, her jaw tightening as she took another step closer. “We need to talk.”
Roz arched a brow, her posture stiffening. “About?”
“About us,” Sam said, the words heavy on her tongue. “About how we’re doing this.”
Roz’s expression didn’t change, but her grip on the armrest tightened slightly. “Sam.”
“No,” Sam interrupted, her voice firm. “You don’t get to brush this off again.”
Roz stood slowly, her chair scraping softly against the floor. “I’m not brushing it off,” she said, her voice low and steady, but there was an edge to it. “We’ve talked about this.”
“Have we?” Sam countered, stepping closer. “Because it feels like every time I try to talk about how hard this is, you shut me down.”
Roz’s green eyes flashed, and she crossed her arms tighter across her chest. “I’m not shutting you down.”
