5 | Samaj
I don’t know when I started caring this much. Whatever the moment was, when I saw her at school I knew I needed to make things right.
I texted her once when I got situated at the hospital, and then went quiet. I didn’t mean to. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to tell her everything. But the situation with my mom was heavier than I expected, and truth was… I didn’t want my darkness spilling into her light.
Everything between us was still fresh and new. I worried my family drama would be a turn off.
When she opened the door, I was blown away. She’s always been beautiful to me. She doesn’t know this, but when the semester first started, I noticed her right away.
From across the room, I found myself watching her more than I should have. I think she complimented the girl beside her on her nails or something, and before long they were in deep conversation.
Then she smiled, and that was pretty much the end of me. I even texted Shiloh about her, and his crazy behind found her Instagram page that same night. I told him he was doing too much, then turned around and scrolled through her entire page like a creep.
A relationship wasn’t part of the plan, especially knowing I’d be relocating as soon as I graduated.
At one point, I thought maybe we could just kick it, and I could keep being the guy who didn’t take things seriously. But I knew I couldn’t be like that with her because Simone wasn’t a girl you casually did anything with.
So, I left her alone, and admired her from afar, and focused on finishing my final semester.
And now here we are. Because despite my best efforts to fly under the radar, she eventually saw me.
Not the version I showed everyone else, the real me.
Once that happened, I couldn’t walk away from her even if I wanted to.
“Ready?” I asked opening the passenger door so she could get in.
She nodded. “Where are we going again?”
“You think you're slick. I never told you where we were going. It’s a surprise. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
The look on her face was worth every penny and every minute of planning. The garden tucked between rows of tall trees was lit up with warm string lights like something out of a movie. A private table sat right in the center: white linen, candles, and the faint smell of pine hanging in the air.
Simone stood there, eyes wide, lips parted.
“Samaj… what in the world is this?”
“Our first official date,” I said, pulling out her chair.
“I owed you a good one. I’m really sorry for not communicating with you while I was away.”
“I… this is beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful. This is just scenery.”
She tried to hide her smile, but she couldn’t. And I swear, seeing her blush did things to me I wasn’t prepared for.
Over dinner, we chopped it up while enjoying everything our waiter recommended.
The Brazilian steakhouse was reservation-only and usually booked weeks sometimes months out. Luckily, the owner, Marcos, did business with my dad and had been to our house a few times. I took a chance and reached out, and he said he would take care of it.
“So,” I said. “Tell me more about your Serve Day project. What ideas did ya’ll come up with?” The way her eyes lit up with talking helping people for the holidays had me getting excited right along with her.
I’m no grinch or anything. Then again, maybe I am. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy the holidays, but I never went out of my way to give back. My dad’s company donated money all the time and I recall my mom giving away our old clothes and toys when I was younger but that’s about it.
She handed me her phone. The notes app was open to a long list of ideas.
“Well…” She laughed softly, looking a little embarrassed. “I don’t know which idea to pick, so maybe you can help me choose. The ladies are down for whatever. Every month we try to do one project.”
The list included things like, hygiene kits for the unhoused, a toy drive, and catered meals for essential workers—Police officers, firefighters, hospital Staff, and more.
I shrugged. “All of these are great ideas. Do all of them.”
She blinked at me, stunned. “Samaj… we can’t, we don’t have enough resources to. The club is still new. We’ve only raised so much in donations, and I’ve already added some of my own money but—”
“I’ll help you.”
“No, I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Why not? You need the resources, and I have resources. And you didn’t ask, I offered.”
“I don’t know,” she said, grinning now. “No offense but you just don’t seem like the type to want to do this kind of stuff.”
“No offense taken. Maybe I’m the ‘help you with whatever you care about’ type,” I said quietly. “Plus, I could use this opportunity to do some good. I want to support you.”
She smiled and extended her hand across the table.
“Okay, we have a deal. Let’s shake on it.” I laughed as I grabbed her hand in mine and gave her a firm shake.
I didn’t know how to explain it, but supporting her felt natural. Easy. Like I didn’t even need to give it a second thought. We were going to bring her vision to life.
“Another surprise Samaj. I cannot take it.” She cautioned. We were now at our second destination for the night. The old me would’ve cringed at how much effort and money I was putting into a first date, but I wanted to make it memorable for her.
“You can and you will.” I removed the blindfold, and when she saw the helicopter, she froze.
“Samaj no way! Are you kidding me?”
“I said it was a surprise.”
“You didn’t say it was a ‘we might die tonight, hope you gave your life to Jesus’ kind of surprise!”
I laughed—really laughed.
“That’s dramatic. Come on,” I said, grabbing her hand. “Just know, you’ll always be safe with me.”
The ride was perfect. She gasped, laughed, and squeezed my arm every time we dipped or turned.
Seeing the city lit up beneath us was beautiful, but it didn’t compare to the woman sitting beside me.
My admiration for her had very little to do with how she looked.
It was the way she carried herself, the way she seemed to bring a sense of peace wherever she went and the heart she had for people.
I was supposed to drop her back home but instead I drove out the way, and we ended up at my parent’s house. My mom was still in the hospital so I knew my dad would be spending the night there to be with her.
“You brought me to your house?” She asked when we pulled into the driveway.
“Yeah, I wanted to show you something.”
“This place is huge. My house can probably fit in here ten times.”
She was exaggerating but the house was big, a little over 4,000 sq ft.
With five bedrooms, an office, a movie room, and a chef’s kitchen.
Sunset Park was an affluent neighborhood, gated, golf course community.
It was the definition of old money meeting new money.
It was my childhood home and at one point it didn’t even feel this big or this cold.
“Should I take off my shoes?”
“No, you’re good. Come on.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to bring her here. I just wanted her to see it. To see him. To see the part of me that has been bound by grief that I can’t seem to shake.
I pushed the door open slowly. Everything was untouched. His sneakers still sat in the middle of the floor.
His bed remained unmad.
His Legos—hundreds of them—were lined up across the built-in shelves my dad and I had custom built for his collection.
Simone stepped inside carefully, as though she was afraid she might break something.
“Was this Shiloh’s room?” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
I thought I’d break down. I thought the memories would overwhelm me. But instead, I felt calm.
Simone walked over to the shelf, eyes soft.
“He wasn’t playing around with these Legos. This is incredible.”
“No matter how many he already had, he just had to keep getting more.”
She found a picture on his nightstand. It wasn’t a professional photo, just one we took in our backyard on the fourth of July.
I remember that day like it happened yesterday.
I had just turned fifteen and my dad taught me how to use the grill that year, so I was feeling grown.
Dad had one arm wrapped around my mom’s waist while she kissed him on the cheek.
Shiloh and I stood close by simply happy to be there smiling without a care in the world as I took the selfie of us.
“You asked me how I manage to smile so much,” she said, turning toward.
“It’s mostly because I’ve learned that this life is fleeting.
God gives, and God takes away. We’re all only here for a short while and if I stay in that dark and depressed place, I’ll let the life I have left to live pass me by.
I know my parents wouldn’t want that for me.
Shiloh wouldn’t want that for you either.
You have to live. Honor his memory while you have the chance. ”
I pulled her into a hug. “You’re a wise woman, you know that.”
Her eyes met mine, gentle. “Thank you for showing me this.”
My chest tightened not painfully, but with something dangerously close to longing.
“Thank you for being you.”
“Can I see your room now?” She asked, smiling.
My room was right across from Shiloh’s. I haven’t been here much over the last four years.
My room was a typical teenage boy’s room.
Gray walls with minimal artwork and a king-size bed with a matching dresser and nightstands.
A built-in desk and bookshelf line one wall housing a few books I’m sure I’ve never read and some random décor, awards from school and some of my old design work from my freshman year of college.
I had always wanted to be an Architect. It all started when my dad would bring home blueprints from his contracting business and spread them out on the dining room table explaining everything to me. Measurements, materials, why some designs worked and others didn’t.
“Wow, you did all of this?” She was looking at one of my first small scale projects.
“Mhmm.”
“You’re so talented. A man who’s good with his hands is very attractive.”