AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She walks inside, with Mack and Miranda close behind.
As soon as they're gone, I pull out of the driveway and merge back onto the freeway. Sam's place is just a few minutes away, and right now, she's the only person I feel like talking to.
I park the jeep and rush to her front door. Knocking, I hear her heavy steps approaching. The door swings open, and Sam engulfs me in a hug immediately.
Although most of the story is already out there, there are details I didn’t give her on the phone. In my panic, I mostly just asked if she’d heard from Tilly and let her know she was gone. But I’m here now, mostly because I know deep down that only Sam can grasp how much I miss Tilly.
After our lengthy embrace ends, we move inside. Sam settles on the couch, propping her swollen ankles on the coffee table.
Greg emerges from the back a few moments later, wrapped in a towel. "Oh hey, Tommy."
"Hi," I say. Maybe Sam isn’t the only one that understands. Greg went through something similar back before Sam was his wife. But he also let her go. Great for his conscience, maybe, but not the kind of heroic stupidity I’m aiming for. The entire time she was gone, Greg knew where she was but didn’t chase her. That doesn’t impress me. If I knew where Tilly was, I would be on the next flight to her.
He grabs two beers from the fridge, offering one to me when he comes back. I take the beer but don't sip it, my hand instead brushing the fabric of Sam's couch. Memories flood back of our first night spent here together, how nervous just lying next to her had made me feel.
“How you doin’ Tommy?” Sam asks, her eyes full of sympathy.
“We slept together,” I say simply. Maybe I should give them more than that, but I know I don’t have to. They’ll both understand how much that would mean to me.
Clasping both hands together, Sam smiles, her eyes watering. With a laugh, Greg puts his arm around her shoulder. “Calm down, babe. It obviously didn’t go well. Couldn’t get it up?”
I snap my head his direction and shoot daggers with my eyes. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
But Greg only laughs as he lifts both hands in surrender. “Okay, wrong time, I get it. But hell man, you said the same shit to me when I was trying to woo my girl.” He’s got me there. At the time, we were in Costa Rica, and we weren’t such good friends. But Greg wasn’t near as desperate and the situation not as serious. Tilly could be hurt by her disgusting family already. Knowing them, she could either be at a black-tie dinner or chained in a basement—hard to tell which is worse.
Yeah, I don’t believe that for a second either. Even if the idea of her being unable to come back to me is more appealing than the alternative. She left. End of story. Grayson confirmed the family doesn’t know where she is either.
I put my head in my hands and rock back and forth a few times before Sam touches my knee. “What happened, Tommy?”
“You already know the bullet points,” I say flippantly.
“But I want the details. Maybe I can work some best friend magic if I know everything,” Sam says. That is true, but telling the full story feels like betraying Tilly. She didn’t tell Sam herself, and I hate getting in the middle of things. Still, if it’s my only shot, I have to try. I tell her about the memorial, her fucking psychotic aunt, about the dance, how we kissed, then went to my mom’s. I skip the details of our sex; I’m sure eventually Tilly will spill. She always loves recounting her escapades to Sam. Want to know a sure-fire way of getting Sam to blush? Mention sex of any kind. It’s one of Tilly’s favorite pastimes. Finally, I explain the fire and both Greg and Sam are silent as my story finishes.
Looking at the ground, I run a palm over my face, trying to rub away the sting of tears. “I told her I loved her.” My voice is soft, almost a whisper. But I know they both heard it. My head jerks up, and I know my eyes are probably too wide with panic. “This can’t be it for us. She loves me too. I want—” I stand to my feet. “I want this!” I point between them, and they look at each other with confusion in their eyes. I ignore it as I begin to pace the living room, careful to avoid their old, warped coffee table. “I paid my fucking dues. I watched her sleep with other men, move away from me, stop talking to me, and yet we found each other again. I’m not just gonna wait anymore.”
Following a spell of silence, Greg retreats to get dressed. He’s gone for a while, and I think I hear him on the phone. In my attempts to eavesdrop, I don’t try to talk to Sam. Returning with car keys in hand, he suggests, "Let's go for a drive."
"I'm staying here," Sam insists. "Getting in a car is like pure torture for my giant pregnant body."
Greg laughs. “Stay here, Kooky-Sam. We’ll be back. Love you.”
He pecks her cheek, and I have to look away. Such domestic displays are what I had hoped for with Tilly, and not having it now is like torture.
We walk outside to where his car is parked along the curb. His Honda is old and battered, but he treasures that car.
Once we hit the road, Greg breaks the silence. "She called Sam."
I straighten up, but Greg signals for patience. "She's doing okay. But no details. The call was from a blocked number, and she didn't give a location. Just wanted to know if the baby had been born yet. Sam did her best to be supportive, probably because she went through something similar a few years back."
"Did she ask about me?" I can't help but ask.
Greg shakes his head. "She probably knew Sam would tell her to call you." Pulling into a coffee shop lot, he faces me. "I know a guy, Phil, don’t ask his last name.” He points to me and lowers his brows.
I hold up my hands. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Greg relaxes back into his seat. “He's gonna help you. But it's... not exactly legal."
I nod, determined. Finding her is what matters, regardless of the means.
