Page 57 of Dr. Roz Harrington
Slowly, Sam reached for her phone, her thumb hovering over Roz’s name in her messages. She wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. She stared at the screen, her heart pounding, before finally locking the phone and shoving it into her pocket.
“Damn it, Roz,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Why won’t you just let me in?”
The firehouse was unusually quiet when Sam finally left her office. The day shift had ended, and most of the crew had already gone home. The lingering silence should have been a reprieve, but instead, it felt deafening, like every thought Sam had been trying to suppress was echoing off the walls.
She climbed into her truck, gripping the steering wheel tightly for a moment before finally starting the engine. The night air was sharp as she rolled down her window, hoping the cool breeze might clear her head. It didn’t.
At home, Sam sat on her couch, staring at nothing. Her apartment was dimly lit, just the small lamp in the corner illuminating the space. She hadn’t bothered to turn on the TV or even take off her boots. The air felt heavy, like it was pressing down on her chest, and she couldn’t shake the memory of Roz’s face, how it had gone so blank and cold when Evelyn found them.
Sam ran a hand down her face, exhaustion and frustration rolling through her in equal measure. She hated this. She hated how much space Roz occupied in her mind, how the silence between them felt like a physical weight.
Her phone sat beside her, dark and silent. She picked it up, her thumb hovering over Roz’s name again. The last messagewas still there, one she’d sent days ago:“I just need to know if you’re okay.”It was still unread.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Figures,” she muttered.
Sam stood up abruptly, pacing the length of her small living room. She had never been the kind of person who let her emotions take over. She was the one who always had it together, who people leaned on in a crisis. Her job demanded that of her. But this? This was different. Roz was different.
And the worst part? Sam still wanted to fight for her.
Sometime later, Sam ended up in her kitchen, an open beer bottle in hand. She leaned against the counter, staring out the window into the darkness. She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there when her phone buzzed.
Her pulse jumped, and she grabbed it quickly, her heart hammering in her chest. It wasn’t Roz; it was a group text from Jack about a scheduling change. Sam let out a sharp exhale, slamming the phone down onto the counter.
Her frustration boiled over. “Goddamn it!” she snapped, the sound of her voice ringing through the quiet. She slammed the bottle onto the counter harder than she intended, and it tipped, spilling beer across the surface. Sam cursed again, grabbing a towel to clean up the mess.
Her hands were shaking. She stopped, pressing her palms flat against the counter, trying to steady herself. She stared at the text box, her mind spinning.
“You don’t get to shut me out. I deserve better than this.”
The words sat there, staring back at her. Her thumbs hovered over the send button, her heart pounding like a drumbeat in her chest. It would be so easy to hit send and tell Roz exactly what she was feeling.
But then what? Would Roz even reply? Or would she let the message sit there unread, just like the last one?
Sam’s hand shook as she deleted the words. She locked her phone and tossed it onto the coffee table, sinking back against the couch. Her throat felt tight as she ran a hand through her hair, blinking against the burn of tears she refused to let fall.
She thought about the night in Roz’s office and how good it had felt, for just a moment, to have her there, to feel like they werereal. Roz’s hands, her kiss, the way her voice had softened when she whispered Sam’s name. It had all felt so…right.
Until Evelyn showed up.
Sam’s jaw clenched at the memory. She couldn’t unsee Roz’s expression in that moment, how quickly the warmth in her eyes had disappeared, replaced by that damn mask she always wore when she felt vulnerable. Roz had shut down, pushing Sam away as though none of it mattered.
But itdidmatter. To both of them. Sam knew it. And it was driving her crazy that Roz wouldn’t fight for what they had.
“Coward,” Sam muttered under her breath, though she wasn’t sure if she meant Roz or herself.
The weight of everything settled over her, too much to carry all at once. For the first time in a long time, Sam felt lost. She had spent her whole life being strong—for her crew, for the people she rescued, for herself. But now?
Now she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
The next morning, Sam woke up on the floor of her living room, the sunlight streaming through the blinds. Her body ached, and her mouth was dry as she blinked awake, groaning softly.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, and she reached for it sluggishly. A message from Jack lit up the screen:“Cap, you okay? We’ve got the drill at 10. Let me know if you need me to handle it.”
Sam stared at the message for a moment before typing back:“I’m fine. Be there soon.”
She wasn’t fine. But she’d figure it out. She always did.
Pushing herself off the floor, Sam made her way to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. She stared at her reflection for a long moment, taking in the tired eyes and the lines of exhaustion etched into her features.
