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He clutched tight on my hand. “Last night, I sent you an email. Read it.”
“I don’t want to.” I repeated.
Sam’s eyes shut with dejection. His hand released from mine and he looked away, just enough to search beside him on the bed where his phone lay next to his hip. He picked it up, raised it high to see the screen without moving his neck too much, and tapped at it. Then he offered the phone to me. “Read it. Please.”
The lit screen of the phone made my eyes squint. Maybe with its brightness or maybe with the words that I didn’t want to see.
When I didn’t move, Sam set down the phone on his chest. He proceeded to unlatch the sling securing his other arm, the effort making him wince probably from the rocketing pain in his ribs. Then he took my hand again and with his injured arm, reached to slip his phone between my fingers. “Please.”
Leaving me no choice, I accepted the phone and read the email on display.
I want you back.
A full-on shiver crawled from my toes to my spine and raised goosebumps on every inch of my skin. The heavy thumping of my heartbeat in my ear resumed.
“I was going to write to you again this morning. Want to know what I would have said?”
I didn’t want to know. But my body betrayed my sensibility and I nodded.
“Just three words. Three big, bold words. Words that I came to tell you instead of writing. Words you didn’t want to listen.”
“Sam…”
“Shh.” Sam patted lightly on the bed beside him. His silent beg for me to stay and listen this time.
I couldn’t turn him down. I sat beside him, clutching his phone in my shaking hands over my lap.
“Did I ever tell you why I surrounded my life around my work? Because I had nothing else. Until you kissed me and made me doubt my entire existence. I’ve always thought that I wouldn’t let anyone in again, that I’d be alone for the rest of my life. But then you, I let you in without even knowing. You’re in. Completely. And if I dare let you out now, I’d be pretty fucking stupid.”
By now, my whole body was quivering. Tears were rebelliously chasing down my cheek one after the other. Those were the words I had unconsciously longed to hear.
“You’d never believe it, but I don’t wear my watch anymore. I don’t need it. Because every time I checked on it, it was the same. Like I was stuck living the same, long minute. Like the time had stopped since you left. I miss you, Lucille. Please say something.”
But I didn’t. Couldn’t… Just wouldn’t.
Sam stole his phone from my tight clutch. He tapped at it, then turned the screen for me to see yet again. “Remember this? You wrote this one.”
You made me feel alive.
Yes, I remembered. I sent that email when I was high on the happiness that he brought into my life.
Sam grabbed my hand and set my palm on his chest, to feel his heartbeat. “Lucille, it wasn’t our friendship or our affair that made you feel like that. It’s not any of the labels we decide to put on what we had. It’s you and me.” He dropped his phone on the bed to free his hand, then took my other hand to tug me forward gently, urging me to lean closer. Then his palm splayed over my own chest. “This, between us, our cloned heartbeats, it’s what makes you feel alive. I feel that too.”
My eyes shut without warning, to feel our heartbeats in harmonious sync. I daren’t move or speak. I only wanted to feel him.
His trembling hand on mine woke me from my trance. I knew his arm was hurting, but just like me, Sam didn’t want this moment to end. He was resisting the pain.
But I just couldn’t let him suffer. Slowly, I moved his arm back into the sling.
“You got a tattoo.” Sam noticed the black ink on my forearm as I was adjusting the sling strap. “Sunshine. You got a tattoo of the sunshine.” He grinned.
“It’s a rising sun. The tattoo artist suggested that. Symbolizes new beginnings.” My feeble attempt to explain that it had nothing to do with him.
I chose that design because I wanted a tattoo with meaning. Hell, I sure got that now. How could I have not realized that? I got a permanent reminder of the one word that would always remind me of Sam. As if he wasn’t already imprinted in my brain enough that I’d remember him even with total amnesia.
“See. Your bucket list was never as empty as you thought.” His voice was becoming hoarse from fatigue. “You know, when you made that big speech about goals and the future, you made me realize that I don’t have a plan either. So I’m making a bucket list too. You want to hear it?”
“I do.” I reached for the glass of water on the side table and guided the straw to Sam’s lips.
