Page 30 of Dr. Roz Harrington
Jack didn’t budge. “You’re not fine. You’re distracted and tense, and you’re taking it out on the team. If you don’t want to talk about it, fine. But whatever’s eating at you? Fix it before it gets worse.”
Sam opened her mouth to argue but stopped herself. He wasn’t wrong, and she knew it. “I hear you,” she said finally, her tone softer but still clipped. “It won’t happen again.”
Jack studied her for a moment before nodding. “Alright. But if you ever want to talk...”
“I’ll let you know,” Sam cut in, offering a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Jack hesitated before pushing off the table and heading out, leaving Sam alone in the room. She sat back down, letting her head fall into her hands as the weight of the day pressed heavily on her chest.
That night, Sam sat on the edge of her bed, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. The firehouse was quiet, the faint hum of the city outside her window the only sound. She opened her messages with Roz, scrolling through their recent conversations. Each reply from Roz was brief, guarded, and carefully worded, like she was trying to keep a safe distance even as Sam tried to close it.
Her thumb hovered over the keyboard as she debated what to say. Finally, she started typing.
Sam:“I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to push, but this secrecy is starting to get to me.”
She stared at the message for a moment before hitting send. The response came several minutes later.
Roz:“I know. I’m sorry too.”
Sam frowned, her chest tightening at the simplicity of Roz’s words. It wasn’t enough, not now, not after everything they’d shared. She typed back, her frustration creeping into her reply.
Sam:“I just need to know this is worth it. That we’re worth it.”
The reply didn’t come as quickly this time. Sam stared at the screen, her heart pounding as the typing indicator blinked on and off. When Roz finally responded, her message was as guarded as ever.
Roz:“You’re worth it, Sam. But I’m still figuring this out.”
Sam let out a slow breath, her fingers tightening around the phone. She wanted to believe Roz, but the distance between them felt insurmountable. She tossed the phone onto the bed, leaning back against the wall as she stared at the ceiling.
The secrecy that had once felt thrilling now felt like a noose, tightening with every passing day. Sam wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up, balancing her professional life, her feelings for Roz, and the constant weight of hiding their relationship.
Finally, she picked up her phone again, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed.
Sam:“I need to see you.”
Her heart raced as she waited, the silence stretching unbearably. She almost regretted sending the message when her phone buzzed with Roz’s reply.
Roz:“I’m outside.”
Sam’s breath caught as she read the message. She scrambled off the bed, grabbing her hoodie as she made her way to the front door. The cool night air hit her as she stepped outside, her eyes immediately finding Roz leaning against her car under the faint glow of the streetlamp.
Roz looked up, her eyes meeting Sam’s. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between them.
“You didn’t have to come,” Sam said finally, her voice quiet.
Roz pushed off the car, walking toward her with measured steps. “You said you needed me,” she replied simply, her tone soft but steady.
Sam exhaled, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I did. I do.”
Roz stopped in front of her, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from Sam’s face. “Then stop pushing me away,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sam’s chest tightened, the vulnerability in Roz’s eyes cutting through her like a blade. “I’m not trying to push you away,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “I’m just…scared of losing you.”
Roz’s hand lingered on Sam’s cheek, her thumb brushing lightly against her skin. “You’re not going to lose me,” she said, her tone firm but gentle. “But you have to trust me.”
Sam nodded, leaning into Roz’s touch as her eyes fluttered shut. “I do,” she whispered. “I just don’t know how much longer I can keep hiding.”
Roz let out a soft sigh, her forehead resting against Sam’s. “Neither do I,” she admitted. “But I want to try. For you.”
