Page 77 of Never Forget
His thumb traced across my knuckles. Neither of us looked away.
Somewhere in the silence, the space between us had gotten smaller. I didn't remember moving closer. I didn't think he had either. But here we were, close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, close enough that?—
A knock at the door made us both jump.
Megan's voice came through the door. "It's me. I brought food."
Sam exhaled. He ran a hand through his hair. By the time he stood to answer the door, the moment had passed, but I could still feel the ghost of it in my chest.
I stayed on the couch, trying to slow my heartbeat, trying to look like nothing had happened. Because nothinghadhappened. We were just sitting. Listening to music. Talking about Jack.
Megan swept in with grocery bags in both arms. She took one look at us—Sam standing by the door, me on the couch, the record still spinning—and something flickered across her face. She didn't say anything. Just set the bags on the counter and started unpacking.
"How are you two doing? Rosie settling in okay?"
"She's good," I said. "We're figuring it out."
"That's great. Kids are resilient." Megan pulled out a container of soup. "Listen, I wanted to tell you something. A friend of mine has a two-bedroom apartment available. It's close by, affordable, and when she heard about the fire, she offered to give you a discount on rent."
I looked at Sam.
He was already shaking his head. "They're fine here. I don't mind the couch."
"Sam." I kept my voice gentle. "You can't keep sleeping on a couch that's too small for you. Rosie noticed this morning. Even she knows it's not right."
He opened his mouth. Closed it. There was nothing he could say—or at least nothing that wouldn't reveal more than either of us was ready to name.
"Thank you, Megan," I said. "We'll take it."
Megan looked between us with a knowing expression that said she could see the shape of what we were dancing around even if we couldn't.
"I'll text you the details," she said. "You can move in whenever you're ready."
After she left, the apartment felt different. Quieter. The record had stopped at some point, and neither of us had noticed.
"This doesn't mean we're leaving you," I said. "It just means you get your bed back."
Sam nodded. But something crossed his face as he turned away. Loss, maybe. Or fear.
I pretended not to notice.
CHAPTER 20
Sam
I'd told her the couch didn't bother me. I'd have slept on the floor if it meant waking up to Rosie's footsteps in the hallway, to Jamie in the kitchen with her coffee, to the feeling that we were building something together. But Jamie wanted their own place, and I had no right to ask her to stay.
The new apartment had two bedrooms, a kitchen with enough counter space to actually cook, and windows that let in more light than my place ever had. It came furnished with the basics: a bed in each room, a kitchen table, a few lamps. Nothing fancy, but enough to start.
Moving didn't take long. They didn't have much to bring. What they'd saved from the fire fit in two bags. What I'd bought them after filled a few more. Megan and Danny had donated some kitchen stuff, towels, a set of sheets still in the plastic.
Rosie tore through the rooms like she was exploring a castle. Her footsteps echoed off the walls.
"This one's mine!" She stood in the doorway of the smaller bedroom, arms spread wide like she was claiming territory. "Auntie Jamie, this one's mine!"
"It's all yours, sweetheart."
Rosie spun in a circle, taking in the bare walls, the closet with nothing in it, the window that looked out over the parking lot. None of that mattered to her. It was hers. That was enough.
