27. Chapter 27
”Are you going to invite me in?”
”Yes,” he says. ”Of course, come in.”
”I read your email,” I say, walking into the living room.
”Do you want to sit down?” he asks, walking to the couch and moving his laptop to the ottoman.
”It took me a while before I was prepared to read it.”
”But you read it,” he says. ”That”s all that matters.”
”Sam,” I say, ”I don”t know where to begin.”
”You can tell me you miss me,” he says.
”I miss you,” I say.
”I miss you too,” he says, but he makes no move to touch me.
”What happened with Patricia?” I ask. ”I have to know.”
”A couple of weeks after you left, we met for coffee,” he says. ”I told her I don”t love her. I was honest with her.”
”I wish you had been honest with me,” I say, instantly regretting my harsh words.
”I”m sorry,” he says. ”I”m so sorry.”
Still, he makes no attempt to touch me.
”Will you see her again?” I ask. I have to know.
”No,” he says, ”I will never have to see her again.”
”You live in San Diego, and she lives in San Diego.”
”I live here,” he says. ”Plus, she”s moving to Eureka. If I ever see her again, it will be pure coincidence.”
”She told you she was leaving?” I ask.
”She asked me to go with her,” he says. ”I don”t want to be with her. I don”t love her.”
”What about Athens?” I ask.
”I went back to Athens to tie up loose ends. My life is here.”
”I heard you were selling the studio.”
”I was,” he says. ”I changed my mind.”
”Why did you buy it in the first place?” I ask. ”You don”t need a tiny art studio in a small town in New York. Your life is so much bigger than Cold Spring, New York.”
“I bought Just in Clay because that is where I met you.”
My eyes well up with tears, and a lump forms in my throat, but I press on.
”Sam,” I say, my voice sounding unsure and shaky.
”Yes,” he says.
”What”s the tattoo?”
My question throws him off balance. He wasn”t expecting me to remember.
”Tattoo?” he asks.
”Yes,” I say calmly. ”The tattoo on your chest.”
”It”s a name,” he says.
Still hasn”t touched me.
”Is it Patricia?” I ask, afraid to hear the answer.
”No,” he says, taking a step towards me.
”Is it Helga?”
”No,” he says, taking another step.
”Sam,” I say, ”what was the name of the second woman you loved but never told?”
”Am in love with,” he says, standing a few inches away.
When he takes my hand and rests it on his chest, holding it there, I catch my breath.
”Laila,” he says.
”Yes,” I say, gazing into an ocean of blue.
”Laila,” he says again.
”What?” I ask.
”Laila is the name on my chest, next to my heart. Laila written in Arabic.”
The first tear spills out and rolls down my cheek.
He wipes it away with his thumb.
”When I left Cold Spring,” he says, ”I needed something tangible to keep you close to me.”
”Sam,” I say, ”I think you took my heart with you.”
”Can I hold you?” he asks.
”I”ve been waiting for you to touch me since I walked in.”
He wraps his arms around me, and I melt into him.
”Sam, I miss you so much.”
”I miss you too,” he says, holding me tighter.
When I think he might kiss me, the doorbell rings.
”You”re expecting someone?” I ask.
”It”s dinner,” he says, releasing me from his embrace.
When he returns, he says, ”It”s what we always ordered.” He puts the bag on the kitchen counter and walks back to me, getting closer and closer.
”Sesame chicken and fried rice?” I ask.
”Yes,” he says, sliding his hand up my arm until he reaches my neck. My skin is on fire.
”Is there anything else you want to ask me?” he asks. ”I promise I only have one tattoo.”
I laugh and put my arms around him.
”By the way,” I say, ”you look nothing like Napoleon Dynamite.
”What?” he asks before it dawns on him and starts laughing. ”So you did read the email.”
”Every line,” I say.
”Laila,” he says, ”do you love me?”
I look into his eyes and smile, ”I love you, Sam. I can”t imagine my life without you. These past two months have been the longest of my life.”
”Why didn”t you call me?” he asks.
”At first, I was angry, hurt, embarrassed. It was a lot for me to absorb.”
”What about later?” he asks.
”I wanted you to be sure that you wanted me and not Patricia.”
”What on earth made you think I wanted Patricia?”
”Your silence regarding her, the lies, the fact that she was your first love, and I saw you kiss her.”
”Why does everyone keep saying that?” he asks. ”She kissed me.”
”I wanted you to be sure,” I say.
”Come here,” he says, leading me to the couch.
When we both sit, he puts an arm on the back of the couch and shifts his position until he”s facing me.
”Laila,” he says, holding my hand. ”I”m sure. I haven”t been more sure of anything in my entire life.”
How many times have we sat like this before? Dozens? Hundreds? It feels like a lifetime ago.
”Sam,” I begin, ”I live in Boston now.”
”I know,” he says.
”I don”t want to do a long-distance relationship,” I say.
”So you don”t want to be with me,” he says.
”No. Yes,” I say. ”What I mean is that I don”t want to be away from you—not for a second.”
”Are you sure?” he asks.
”I”m positive,” I say, more sure now than ever. “I want to be with you, Sam.”
”Aaron”s parents own the condo down the hall from yours,” he says, ”I”m leasing it from them.”
”You”re what?” I ask.
”I love you, Laila. There”s no one else. There”s nothing else. It”s been you since the moment I met you. I don”t want to be apart from you ever again.”
”I love you, Sam.”
”I love you too,” he says.
The electricity between us is strong enough to set us both ablaze. His eyes, a dark shade of ocean-blue, are silently begging me for a kiss.
”Kiss me,” I say.
He gently rubs my lower lip with his thumb and smiles, making me wait for the kiss I”ve been missing for two months. It has been torture.
When he finally kisses me, I close my eyes, enjoying the taste of his lips and the scent of his skin. Like a well-choreographed dance between longtime lovers, our lips explore each other slowly, softly, and thoroughly. Sam is so well-versed in this waltz, for lack of a better word, that I lose myself in this moment, in his arms, in his kiss, never wanting it to end.
This is the spark I was looking for. Never in a million years would I have imagined I would find it with Sam, my best friend. The man who gave me dating advice, all the while longing to be like this.
Mom”s words are true: ”Sometimes people make better friends than they do lovers, but when you find someone who can be both, you have found your soulmate.”
I found him, and he found me.