Work Text:
You’ve Received an RSVP from Jack Abbot!
Samira hovered over the notification, the pit in her stomach sinking deeper.
They’d started receiving responses last week. Mostly yes’s. An occasional no from a distant relative.
Jack Abbot Declined
Guest Declined
Send a note to the couple?
Congratulations. Wishing you a lifetime of love and happiness. - JA.
She reread the page until it turned blurry, unable to understand. They’d sent these out seven months in advance - knowing a good chunk of their guest list were physicians themselves.
Besides, PTMC only required a month's notice for requesting PTO.
Heather Collins had already accepted, hell, even Dr. Robby marked yes.
Now the person she was closest to back in Pittsburgh declined?
Samira swiped out of her email, opening the find my friends app for the first time in God knows when. Andrew didn’t exactly know she still shared a location with her ex, and at this point it didn’t seem to matter. She doubted Jack even knew how to stop sharing it.
E Sycamore Street - a bar frequented by veterans more than anyone else. Meaning, he wasn’t working tonight.
Without talking herself out of it, she tapped the green dial icon. Two brief rings.
“Hello?” that familiar voice came through the line, exciting and terrifying her at the same time, “Samira?”
It was loud in the bar, and she could hear a questionable cover of Free Bird playing in the background.
“Jack?”
“Yeah,” he replied, sounding confused as ever, “Did you mean to call me?”
Of course, he’d thought her calling was just an accident. It was almost ten p.m. in the middle of the week. They didn’t call each other anymore with silly life updates, or shared interesting medical journals. Nothing.
“Forget it, this was a stupid idea.”
“Wait, Samira-“ he mumbled something unclear, to the bartender she assumed, picturing him sitting there with his beer. The music grew louder but then disappeared, “Are you there?”
Nodding, she had her eyes focused on the framed photo of her and Andrew. Attempting to anchor herself to the present.
“I’m here.”
“Is everything okay?”
She blinked slowly, “Why aren’t you coming?”
The tears that had threatened to fall ran down her cheeks. Her engagement ring suddenly feeling like a dead weight.
It was beautiful. Two carats, round cut. He didn’t hardly skimp out on her. She just couldn’t stop thinking about that night Jack had slipped his grandmother's ring onto her finger in bed, both naked under the sheets, Samira swore her heart stopped.
That ring was much smaller, yet timeless.
More like her.
She hadn’t wanted to take it off, and hearing Jack promise someday to her as their lips collided, she’d allowed herself to want it. The problem was she didn’t know how to stop wanting it, years after the relationship ended.
Jack sighed, “I don’t think I really belong there.”
“What? Why wouldn’t you belong there? I want you there.”
What she didn’t say was how she’d thought about what it’d be like to see him again more than the actual wedding itself.
“Honey..”
The ache in her chest tightened, bringing her palm up to wipe at the salty liquid. Failing to keep it together as her next breath caught, giving away the fact she was crying. Adding to how pathetic she felt right now.
“Why are you crying, sweetheart?” his voice dropped, hearing his worry heighten.
She wished he were here - in this lonely apartment. Holding her the way he always would. Not hundreds of miles away from Jersey. The thought of Andrew walking through the door instead made her stomach churn.
“I don’t,” she tried, stopping herself from finishing that sentence, “I don’t know.”
Maybe she could go back for a weekend. Get some sort of closure.
“Did something happen between you and your fiancé?”
It would make more sense if that were the case, but no. They never fought, at least not over anything bigger than forgotten dishes. He was everything a girl could dream of and yet - here she was, calling her ex-boyfriend in tears over the thought of not seeing him.
“I think I’m making a mistake.”
-
Two weeks after their conversation, Samira was staring down an empty suitcase.
She’d run the idea of taking a small trip to Pittsburgh by Andrew last week, claiming there was a bridal shop she wanted to check out with Heather. He’d been occupied reading some article on his iPad as they sat at the dinner table, mindlessly pushing around the stir-fry.
His eyes looked up briefly, giving a supportive nod.
“I think that sounds wonderful, Sami.”
Samira tried her hardest not to have a reaction to the nickname, having shared her displeasure with it multiple times before.
After loading the dirty dishes into the washer, she hit purchase on the Delta tickets saved in her cart. Feeling her heart pound as the almost $500 withdrew from her bank account.
An egregious price - but being so last-minute, no other option presented itself.
The flight was scheduled tonight, having her landing at PIT by six. She’d made a reservation at the Hilton, pocketing the excuse of not wanting to be a burden at Heather’s if Andrew asked. New baby and such.
Friday to Sunday.
48 hours.
That had to be enough time - right?
Digging in her dresser drawer, she selected a couple of her regular cotton panties. Grabbing the lace pair last minute before slamming it shut. One pair of jeans, two leggings, and her favorite Stanford sweatshirt.
In terms of a plan, she didn’t exactly have one.
After her confession, Jack’s concern only grew bigger. It had taken her at least ten minutes before the tears dried up, apologizing between jumbled words. He’d asked her not to hang up when she’d suggested it. Once the call eventually ended, she sent a quick text, not really expecting a response.
Samira: Sorry again for tonight. I'm okay.
Jack: Stop apologizing.
Jack: Besides, you saved me from Tim telling me the same story for the 10th time.
That got a smile out of her, attempting to think of what to respond with before switching to search for a flight. Out of, you know, curiosity. The next morning would be excessive, and so would the coming weekend. But in two weeks, her schedule had her off for an entire weekend.
Samira: Are you free next Friday for dinner?
The flight was quick, having put in her headphones and tuned out the entire duration after takeoff.
Seeing the Welcome to Pittsburgh! sign as she exited the plane, she snapped a picture and sent it to Andrew - letting him know she was headed to the hotel now. Check-in was relatively painless, copying her ID and credit card before sending her up the elevator. Two physical keys were on the entry table of the room, pulling her phone back out to send a text.
Samira: At the hotel now. P.F. Changs at 7 still okay?
Jack: Yes ma’am. I’ll pick you up.
Samira: It’s okay, I can just Uber.
Jack: I’ll be at the front lobby by 6:30.
Playfully, her eyes rolled back as she set her phone down. The next hour was spent showering and attempting to make herself look presentable.
Denim slid up over her legs, buttoning carefully as she decided on the black halter top. Unsure of whether or not to go with a full makeup look, she decided to play it safe. A little mascara went a long way, and the wavy curls pulled the look altogether.
Getting to see Jack again was all she had thought about since he’d agreed to dinner tonight.
All she had to live off of since leaving was the hospital’s website, having updated their physicians page once this spring. Thanks to his refusal to download even one social media app.
The photos of them lived on in her camera roll, though. It was a memory lane she refused to delete - backing them up onto her laptop, fearing the possibility of her phone breaking. The album was just labeled PA. Nothing indicated that it was her modern-day version of a memory box.
6:19 p.m.
Clicking into the album, they started from the beginning - her first forced selfie of them. A late-night coffee run for the department. She held a cup to her lips. No photos of them existed until after their first real date. Then it was hand holding, flowers on the table, and a post shower towel selfie. Samira allowed herself to get lost until she checked the clock again, leaving her phone on the charger and stopping for one last look.
The harsh lighting of the bathroom illuminated her ring. Taking it off tonight wouldn’t change the fact that she was lying to her fiancé. It came off slowly, setting it beside her powder compact.
With that, she was out the door.
-
The elevator dinged, opening to the chlorine scented floor, exiting, and walking towards the entrance. Before she'd even made it there, she spotted him. Sitting in one of the tacky red chairs, waiting for her. He looked good - damn good.
Once he noticed her, he smiled, standing up from the seat and adjusting his jeans before walking her way.
“Hey,” she said softly, accepting the hug he was initiating, “You look great.”
“Likewise, Miss Mohan.”
Her throat tightened, hating the idea of not being called that anymore. They walked outside, spotting his grey truck parked out front. He’d gone to the passenger side, opened the door for her - thanking him as he waited to shut it behind her.
The radio was already turned off, setting the tone for how awkward the ride might end up being. Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing. If she came here to seek some sort of answer - closure, then feeling nothing would be the ideal solution.
Sitting beside him, she could see the freckles painting his skin up close. She swore there were more since the last time, remembering how she'd sometimes sit there and start to count them as he slept. Losing track and kissing his skin before starting all over.
“How was your flight?”
“Good. Short. No obnoxious neighbor, luckily.”
Jack hadn’t asked why she was coming back, just agreed to seeing her tonight. In some ways, she was thankful for his lack of questions. The idea of him shutting her down made her somewhat nauseous. Or that was from the lack of food.
She wondered if he’d worked today, and then thought about how much she missed everyone at the hospital.
The parking lot was packed for a Friday night, as to be expected, rolling her lips between her teeth at the realization. She never made a reservation for them. It had completely skipped her mind with everything else going on.
“What?” he stopped, noticing her facial expression after turning the truck off, looking around, trying to figure out what he was missing. Then it hit him, “You forgot to make a reservation, didn’t you?”
Samira snickered, attempting not to fully laugh as she mouthed a silent apology. That got a similar laugh out of Jack as he gestured for her to follow him out so they could go put their names down. Passing a couple small groups of people waiting, Samira stuck close by.
“Reservation for Abbot.”
The hostess looked down at her screen before finding it, grabbing a couple of menus, and ushering them to follow her.
Oh.
He’d already made one.
They were sat at one of their circular booths, getting in on opposite sides. Looking over, he was already grinning, as if he’d caught her.
“No faith I remembered?”
“Oh, absolutely not.” They both appreciated his brutal honesty, smiling as he slid the menu over towards her.
She hadn’t been here in forever. It had been her favorite place to go on her birthday as a kid, and they’d gone together once on their anniversary. Fell in love with their honey chicken dish - teasing over how a chain restaurant could still have a hold on her.
As the night went on, they moved closer towards each other. Jack bringing up a couple of insane cases from the pitt that she’d been so lucky to miss out on. He’d asked her how her fellowship was going, seeming to be fully invested as Samira shared what she could. In one month, she would graduate - and talk of a permanent position had been circling the air.
Shen had apparently experienced a nightmare date a couple weeks ago. Something to do with the girl talking the entire time about her Beanie Baby collection before suggesting White Castle as their meal. Tears had filled her eyes from laughing so hard, picturing getting to know someone over excessive onion sliders.
“Are you?”
“What? Seeing anyone?” he asked, blushing as he declined, “No. I’m not.”
That feeling in her chest, which she recognized as relief, came with guilt. Jack was an incredible man, and he deserved to find happiness. It shouldn't make her feel good knowing he was alone.
"How did you and your fiancé meet?”
Trying not to show her discomfort about talking to him, she kept it brief, "Andrew had been working at the hospital for two years when I started. He overheard me talking about not having a social life outside of work and insisted on us going out for drinks.”
There wasn't much else to it, and thankfully, he didn't ask.
Once their entrees were finished, the waitress suggested a dessert, listing everything they had before they could shut it down.
Chocolate soufflé, Butter cake, New York cheesecake, Banana spring rolls, Red velvet cake, and Key lime pie
Samira watched as Jack listened to her sales pitch, looking over at her as she shook her head. Then, “The banana spring rolls sound great.”
“Are we celebrating something I should know about?”
“You graduate next month,” he shrugged.
-
Since they were sharing, Samira scooted the final few inches to be by his side. It looked and smelled incredible, with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream.
“Are we gonna talk about it?”
“About what?” she asked, her spoon playing around with the banana.
Jack wiped his mouth with the napkin, setting it back down onto the table. The restaurant had long cleared out by now. It was just them and a handful of tables, realizing how lost in time they allowed themselves to become with each other.
“Your call the other week. You said you were making a mistake.”
Setting the spoon down, she looked away from his peering gaze.
“I know,” she said softly, “I shouldn’t have put that on you out of the blue.”
His eyebrows squinted, as if she’d missed his point, “You know you can call me whenever, honey. That’s not what had me worried. You were crying.”
Trying to explain what was going on in her head was like asking why the sky was blue. She didn’t know. All she knew was that getting his RSVP had stirred up something. Buried feelings, maybe.
“Andrew is a great guy, you know? You’d like him. Brown alumni, Steelers fan. He’s always been kind to me. Asked me to marry him on our sixth month anniversary, actually.”
Truthfully, they barely knew each other.
Not to anyone’s surprise, her words didn’t appear like they were doing Jack much good. There was worry behind his eyes, still gentle as he listened to her explain.
“Do you know when you think you’re doing everything right? You make a plan for yourself, stick to it your entire life. Med school, residency, fellowship, then settle down.”
He didn’t, she knew that. He had been married in his late twenties while he was still an intern. Nevertheless, he listened.
“I did all of that - followed it to a T. Now, I graduate next month, and he wants to start a life with me. Except, when I picture my life, everything looks so different.”
“How so?”
Wishing she had another drink, her fingers idly played with the fabric of the dinner cloth. Before she could finish her thought, their waitress returned with the kiosk to pay.
“I got it,” she mumbled, reaching down into her purse, feeling Jack’s fingers wrap around her wrist. Samira’s brow furrowed watching him hold her arm in place as he pulled out his credit card. One-handed. Stupidly impressive.
He hadn’t let go, even after the card had been run. She stayed silent, trying to soak into memory what it felt like to be touched by him.
When he did release her, she reached over to playfully swat at him, reminding him that it wasn’t necessary. She had a salary now, a real one. In true Jack fashion, that didn’t seem to faze him.
Two fortune cookies sat on the receipt.
As cheesy as it was, this had always been one of her favorite parts.
She cracked the hard cookie, crumbs falling over her plate as she pulled the tiny piece of paper free.
You know where you are going and how to get there.
Instead of trashing it, she folded it smaller, tucking it inside her purse. Jack had already taken a bite of his cookie, seeing his fortune upside down on the table.
“What does yours say?”
Jack shrugged, smiling, knowing how seriously she took these silly little traditions. He obliged, unfolding it and shaking his head like he knew his was going to be ridiculous, “You will be hungry again in 30 minutes."
Samira snorted, covering her mouth as he tossed the piece of paper at her.
-
Samira slid out of the booth first, belly full of faux Chinese food and bananas. Jack held the door open for her as they exited to a now dark sky. The thought of going back to the hotel and not seeing him again had her grasping at anything to extend their time together. He’d started the truck to get some AC going, but didn’t immediately move. Giving her some sort of hope that they were on the same page.
“Did you want to-“
“Yeah.”
That simple.
“Is that mine?” she asked, looking down at the console between the cup holders. A black claw clip.
Reaching over to take it out, he offered it back to her. It was as if he’d just been waiting this whole time for her to come back. No. That was silly. It was probably just forgotten about.
The truck turned down the familiar road, looking out the window as he drove past where she used to walk every day. The Millers still had their award winning garden out front, as well as the ridiculous fence surrounding it.
He turned into the driveway, and she felt hit with an overwhelming sense of deja vu.
Their leftovers rested on the center console as he shut the vehicle off. His house looked to be the same from the outside, and that consensus remained the same as she closely followed him up to the front door.
Barking interrupted the silence as they walked inside, seeing Major running up to them and sniffing Jack first. She held her breath, feeling like her heart grew two sizes as their dog realized she was there, too. He yipped, jumping right up and putting his paws around her torso. Samira laughed, remembering how this used to be their daily routine when she would get home.
They’d adopted Major during an event the shelter had thrown for Easter. He was a black lab, English - as they learned, meant much lazier than American labs. Major loved his naps, bones, and daily walks. He looked older, a little more grey near his eyes these days.
When she’d accepted the fellowship in New Jersey, and her moving across the country became a reality, the logistics of taking him with her didn’t make sense. Samira knew he would have a better life here, where a backyard was always available to him.
“I think he missed you,” Jack commented, taking the leftovers into the kitchen as she continued to greet the pup. She turned her head away from another slobbery kiss, wondering how Jack had ever turned her cat-loving self into this.
“It’s okay, I missed him more," she said to herself.
Jack had already gotten two bottles of beer from the fridge, extending one out to her as she came into the kitchen.
“I finally finished the last of those wine coolers you left here a couple months back.”
She graciously accepted the drink. Swallowing the cold sip as they both looked at each other. It was only a matter of time until that topic arose again, and instead of being caught off guard
“Why did you let me leave?” she asked, abruptly addressing the elephant in the room. “You wrote that letter and made me sound like a medical superwoman. Why didn’t you just say no?”
“You didn’t want me to write the recommendation?”
She shook her head, stopping and shrugging her shoulders. She didn’t know what she wanted back then, that was the problem. Or she did, but everyone else seemed to think they knew what she wanted for her.
“No. I mean, yeah, I did.”
Jack’s forehead scrunched, just as confused as she was. Her pacing across the living room had begun to stress Major out, seeing him stir from the corner of her eye.
“Did you just not want me to stay?”
“Samira..”
“Did you?”
“I wanted you to be happy. Which didn’t include the fellowship opening here - you wanted more. You deserved more.”
Stopping in front of him, her eyes focused on his soft features, “Jack.”
He held her gaze, not looking away as he spoke, “Yes. I wanted you to stay.”
She swallowed, tasting the beer aftertaste in her mouth. The image of her bare hand pushed her to the edge, practically tossing herself towards her ex-boyfriend. Their lips collided - and didn't once come apart.
He’d never tell her to do something. That wasn’t who he was, nor was it what made their bond thrive the way it did.
He wouldn’t tell her to stay.
Or to come back home.
She had to make these decisions - and right now, it was simple.
Samira hadn’t forgotten what it felt like to kiss Jack. He was always gentle, trying to use up every second in the world as if they were never-ending. Patience, he’d mumble, patience, sweet girl. It drove her crazy back then, just as it did now.
Her kisses were the opposite. Rushed and starved, wrapping her hands behind his neck and keeping their mouths locked together. Like if she let go, he might disappear.
As his lips parted for air, her tongue slipped inside, tasting his questionable taste in overly gingery beer. Something she used to hate, but right now, couldn't get enough of.
“Samira,” he tried, his hand coming down to her hip and squeezing, grounding her back to him. She pulled back, looking at him with immense worry - worry that he was going to put a stop to this. They stood there catching their breaths, neither one putting any space between them, “Are you sure?"
She moved her head, trying to go back in for another kiss as an answer. Jack stopped her, only adding to her disappointment as he smiled, “I need words. If we’re doing this, I have to hear it.”
There was no hesitation.
“I want this.”
There was barely a pause before his hands returned to her sides, going down and pulling her against him.
She wasn't against doing this in the kitchen, half tempted to climb up on the table. He seemed to know exactly what she was thinking - backing her up towards the hallway.
The bedroom looked the same, right down to the comforter and bed sheets. A framed photograph of his first wedding sat beside the light. Jack sat on the side of the bed to remove his prosthesis as she took in the room. Right beside that photograph was something new, a smaller keepsake of them. Well, it was more of her and Major during one of their hikes.
In some twisted way, it felt like he was waiting for her to come back.
To come back home.
Andrew wasn’t terrible when it came to the bedroom. He tried, which was more than she could say for other men.
Slowly, she stepped in front of him, crossing her arms over her stomach and pulling the top off. The tiny lace bra left nothing to the imagination, her nipples on clear display underneath the fabric. Carefully, her knees bent until she sat on the floor.
Their breaths were uneven as she reached forward, resting her hands on his thighs, silently asking for permission. Her fingers found the top of his boxers as he said her name under his breath. There was nothing more she wanted right now than to get her mouth on him, taste that familiar saltiness. Jack lifted his hips to help her pull them all the way off, leaving him completely naked.
He was already hard, leaking down the tip and causing her core to clench around nothing.
The height difference made it a little difficult, sitting up further to take him into her hand -giving a couple of gentle strokes. She saved the pre-cum for her tongue, leaning down and licking directly around his slit. She couldn’t help but grin as he cussed, jumping slightly at the sensation. Samira quickly found her rhythm, taking him deeper into her mouth before pulling off. Repeating the motions.
She felt his hands reaching down to unclasp her bra, allowing the camisole to fall forward, exposing her breasts to the room.
“Shit,” he hissed, hips jerking forward as she took him down to the base, breathing in the mixture of musk and leftover body wash. She held it a couple more seconds before coming up, the line of saliva connecting the two of them before wiping it away.
Having full intentions of having him spill down her throat, Jack stopped her from returning to her determined mind.
“I’m gonna cum if you do that again, honey,” he laughed, his breathing staggered as she sat in front of him. Taking it as a challenge, she leaned back in before he stopped her, bending down to pull her up to him. Pressing his lips to hers before she could try to argue.
Jack’s hand cupped her breast, pinching one of her nipples and getting a small yelp out of her. His cock bobbed against her stomach, and she whimpered, looking into his hazel eyes.
“I know, and trust me, there is nothing I love more than you getting me off - but baby, I really want to fuck you.”
Samira had forgotten that coming twice in one evening was a bit much for him after being with Andrew. The idea of feeling him inside her again made her knees weak, kissing his lips again as Jack pulled her back onto the mattress.
She knew she was wet, feeling the damp fabric sticking to her entrance as he guided her up the bed.
“You’re so gorgeous, Samira,” he complimented, holding her breath as his hand slid between her thighs. The black panties were pulled down to her ankles, leaving her completely vulnerable underneath him.
She knew he was moving down to go down on her, but didn’t think she could wait any longer.
“No, Jack, I need you inside now.” That didn’t dare stop him, settling down there and pressing a gentle kiss to her inner thigh. She tried again, more desperate, “Jack.”
He only smirked, tsking and shaking his head when his breath hit her pussy. Oh fuck. Every hair on her body felt like it stood up as he kissed her lips, slowly beginning to lick her slit.
Once he had reunited with her clit, Samira was done for.
The sensitive bud went between his teeth, gently biting and causing her legs to spread even further for him. He had a strong grip on her thigh as he delved his tongue between her folds.
"Always so sweet," he teased between licks, "My sweet girl."
Samira trembled, gasping at being called his as he pushed her over the edge with one last flick of his tongue, allowing the orgasm to take over her body. Jack held her thighs apart as they fought to close around his head, making sure she felt every second of this to the fullest. He didn't dare stop until she was sputtering, crawling back up to her, and letting her taste herself.
Squeezing his arm, she lifted her hips in search of what she'd been craving all night.
Condoms lived in the drawer on his side, watching as he pulled a foil out and peeled it open.
It’d been so long since she’d had sex without protection, Andrew refused, putting them on religiously.
With Jack, Samira reached down to help, using any excuse to keep touching him. She rolled the latex on maybe an inch before stopping. As if tonight’s string of bad decisions couldn’t get worse, she gripped the bunched-up condom and pulled back towards her. It came off with ease, not looking at him as she balled it up in her fist.
“Samira..” he whispered, not convinced she was thinking clearly.
“I just want to feel you again.”
If tonight was the last time, then there was no holding back.
That he didn’t argue with. She aligned him with her entrance, awaiting him to push into her as his lips found her neck. Gasping, Samira felt him suck her delicate skin into his mouth as he began to push forward. There was a stretch that came with the welcomed intrusion, listening to his whispered praise in her ear.
The double sensation melted her brain, slamming her eyes shut as he bottomed out inside her. Jack pulled back from her neck slowly, admiring his work and having left a mark that would need to be covered up, no doubt.
His hand cupped her cheek, not having moved yet, squeezing around his cock in encouragement.
Tonight wasn’t going to be a harsh fuck. No, she kept her eyes on him as he finally pulled back, just to push back in even slower.
This was a love she was worried didn’t exist anymore.
But it did, even if it was just within the walls of this bedroom. His next thrust hit that soft spot inside her, bringing her nails up to dig into his back. He wouldn’t care, having let her use him like a scratching post in the past. Both had laughed at the idea of her being a cat in a previous life.
“Please.”
“Yeah? Feel good?”
She nodded frantically, her mouth agape as she focused on the pleasure coursing through her body. With every move, her pleasure built up steadily - remembering what it felt like to come from penetration. He could tell she was getting close again, speeding his thrusts up and letting her know that his own release was close by as well.
The fire pooling in her belly reached its peak, lifting her chest into him as she came. Her orgasm turned the buzzing in her ears louder, frantically searching for her lover's mouth on hers.
He spilled inside her, the hot liquid filling her insides while hiding in her shoulder. His hand squeezing her ass. It should’ve mattered that they had unprotected sex, knowing she’d never been on birth control in her life. It didn't.
It didn't matter that she was cheating on her fiancé.
Nothing else in the world seemed to matter right now.
Jack pulled the blanket over their bodies, covering them both as Samira rested her head on his chest.
It felt like she’d never left to begin with.
-
September, 2024
Cutting off another piece of tape, Samira sealed the final box up.
This one was towels, nothing too important. Instead of renting a U-Haul and doing it herself, she’d decided to splurge and use a moving company. She knew it was a rip-off, learning that it was the same flat rate for up to thirty boxes.
As it turned out, her entire life fit into twelve.
Jack appeared from the hallway, grabbing the last box from her, taking it to the garage. The movers would be picking them up early tomorrow morning, and the day before was already last-minute enough.
Major had followed them as they traveled from inside to outside, whining occasionally as if he could understand what was going on.
His wet nose pressed against her arm, sitting on her knees in the now empty guest room.
“Hi boy,” she offered, rubbing behind his ear, “You know I’m leaving, don’t you?”
Major gave her cheek a small lick, managing to get a smile out of her. She heard the garage door shutting, followed by the kitchen door. She swallowed, trying her hardest not to break down now - not when it was too late to change her mind.
Yesterday had been her last day at PTMC, and the goodbyes were hard enough.
She’d signed up for a one-year fellowship in New Jersey that would start on Monday. The apartment she’d signed a lease for came furnished, alleviating that stressor from her life.
Jack wasn’t flying with her tomorrow.
Knowing their relationship had an expiration date gutted her in a way she’d never experienced before. They both knew the chances of her fellowship turning into a job were high, and with Jack’s elderly mother living here, they were at a crossroads.
Samira rose from the carpet, adjusting her t-shirt before joining Jack in the kitchen. He stood with his back towards her, watching the pot of water in front of him until it began to boil.
“Spaghetti tonight?”
He nodded, unaware that she’d come into the room.
“Sounds good.”
She hated how quiet he’d been the past couple of days. No matter how many conversations she’d try to start, they wouldn’t make it past a one-word response.
The silence didn’t end until he announced that dinner was ready. Samira pushed the food around, continuing to look up from her plate and at her boyfriend. Neither one of them actually eating.
“Jack,” she tried, acknowledging the fact that something was going on.
“Yeah?”
“What are you thinking about? Please?”
Their eyes stayed locked, both full of hurt. “I’m going to miss you, Samira.”
With that, she scooted the chair back to go by his side. Her arms wrapped around his neck, sitting down on his lap like it was second nature. “So much,” he added, mumbling into her neck.
“This doesn’t have to be the end, right?” she asked, her voice shaking terribly, “It’s just one year. We can do long distance. I’ll fly to you, you can fly to me.”
Her rambling didn’t seem to receive a positive response, as Jack just slightly shook his head.
“Jack-.”
“I can’t be what holds you back,” his thumb wiped at the tears falling from her eyes, “Your life is just beginning.”
“So what are you saying? We’re done? Tomorrow is it?”
He didn’t respond, giving her the answer she didn’t want to hear in the silence. Samira closed her eyes, shaking her head no as Jack held her.
“My life is with you.”
“I know.”
“We made plans.”
“I know.”
Breathing into his shirt, her tears turned into full blown crying. Rotating between mumbling his name and please don’t leave me until it became inaudible. His hand continued to rub circles into her back. The attempt at comfort failed as it became harder and harder to breathe.
“Samira,” he spoke softly, recognizing that they needed to get her breathing under control before it tumbled into a panic attack, “Can you listen to me?”
He pushed her shoulders back just a little, seeing her bloodshot eyes and wet face.
“You have to breathe, baby. You’re gonna hyperventilate."
Major had walked up to them, trying to budge his head between them as Jack tried to talk her down. It was clear he was just as worried about their girl.
Samira looked down at their dog, reminded that she was losing him too, and any potential progress they’d just made was out the window. She didn’t want to leave him or their life here. Everything felt so unfair. Why couldn’t the fellowship have been here?
Pushing back from his lap, the hiccuped sobs worried him, not allowing her to walk away from him until she was getting air to her lungs. He held her tighter, taking hold of her hand and resting it on his chest.
“Feel my heart, match my breathing, okay?”
Samira didn’t listen, her hand flipping back around to squeeze his fingers. He pulled back, both of their hands fighting for dominance as she begged.
"Don't leave me.”
Feeling lightheaded, she felt him win, placing her hand back on his chest, reminding her to keep breathing. Eventually, the stinging pain in her lungs disappeared. Jack carried her to their bed after everything had passed, curling up into one another. If either of them slept more than an hour straight, it was a miracle. Neither of them spoke until it was time to leave the next morning, the puffiness on both of their faces obvious.
He didn’t bother parking in the garage and walking her to the entrance. She felt her heart sink as he drove up to drop-offs, putting the hazards on and hopping out of the truck. Samira reluctantly followed his lead, stepping out to see him already on her side with the suitcase.
She initiated the hug, trying to bury herself in the section of her mind that could shut off her emotions. A skill she'd acquired after many years working in the ER. Jack squeezed her shoulder one final time, sounding defeated as he said goodbye, “You’re gonna do great.”
Reluctantly, she detached herself from his hold. The four words she wanted to hear so badly never came.
Samira turned her head once, seeing him being signalled away to join the airport traffic. The wheels of her suitcase squeaked before she checked the bag. TSA was quick, staring up at the ceiling as her eyes watered. If the agent noticed, he was kind enough not to comment.
As soon as she made it past security, she booked it to the bathroom, entering the closest stall and allowing herself to fall apart.
The entire hour was spent locked in there until her phone alerted her that her flight was boarding. As she walked to the gate, she opened her messages with Jack to see nothing new. Clicking on his location, she thought it hadn't updated, still seeing him at the airport just now. She zoomed in, stopping in the middle of the path, realizing he was parked in the cell phone lot.
Waiting until her flight took off.
-
Only waking up beside Jack in her old bed could put a childish grin on her face.
He was still sleeping, his head towards her while lying on his stomach. The sheet had fallen a bit, enough that the scar on his shoulder blade revealed itself.
A reminder of when he was still working with SWAT and putting his life in danger. It had started a fight back then, but inevitably, she'd won as he resigned by September.
They had one more night together until she had to go back tomorrow. She didn’t care to think about that, dousing herself in this life for the next 24 hours. He had to go into work for a few hours this morning, but she didn't mind. Needing to go back to the hotel and grab her clothes anyway.
“Good morning,” he groaned, sleep still having a hold on his voice.
“Morning.”
Jack reached his arm out, pulling her into his embrace. He still smelled so strongly of her perfume, mixed with the sweat from last night. A scent she wished she could bottle up for when this was over.
"Are you sure you have to go in today? Can't you call Robby?"
He pressed another kiss to her shoulder, crawling over until his lips found her nipple. Kissing the bud before shaking his head, "He's already working, baby. I'll be quick."
Watching as he continued to move further down her body, knowing this was headed into a repeat of last night. Yelping, his teeth retreated from sinking into her thigh. Samira giggled, watching him tease her until finally giving in.
The sex had sent Samira right back under, humming as Jack kissed her before leaving for work. She woke up a couple hours later, alone in her old home. A shower sounded wonderful, but all of her belongings were across town. She saw the old Chevy was in the garage, deciding to head back and grab her stuff.
-
Walking through the lobby reminded her of what a walk of shame felt like. Her unbrushed curls were everywhere, in dire need of some conditioner. The makeup from last night kissed away, and she was sure there was a bruise near her ear.
Swiping the key card, the door opened as she fumbled with her purse.
The figure in the mirror caused her to jump, freezing until she recognized who it was.
Andrew sat on the foot of the bed, holding her engagement ring in his fingers. He’d looked up at her for a moment, the expression on his face unreadable - heartbroken, if she had to guess. Her cell phone remained on the bedside table, plugged in with the screen still unlocked.
Hesitantly, she stood in the same place, “Andrew, I..”
She what? Could explain?
“I talked to Heather last night,” he admitted, eyes focused on the ground, “You weren’t answering my calls and I got worried. Silly me for thinking my fiancé was telling me the truth.”
The bad unbrushed taste in her mouth worsened.
“Do you know how worried I was, Samira? Sitting at home, having no idea where you were, if you were even okay?”
She didn’t. She hadn’t thought about him once since dinner last night. Not knowing what else to say, she apologized.
“I’m sorry.”
Her apology rendered an empty chuckle from him, finally looking back up to meet her watery eyes. She hated that these past eighteen hours had been the happiest she’d been in a long time.
Turning his back towards the phone, he opened her messages, clicking exactly where she feared.
Jack.
“I’m trying to understand, I have been since last night. I don’t, Samira. I don’t. Did you come back here for him? Is that where you were all night?”
Tears fell as he asked, shaking her head before nodding once. Words weren’t coming to her as he stood up, crossing the room. She could feel his breath on her hair, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Never in her life had she imagined herself in this position.
The tip of his finger grazed her cheek, going down the path of her face and pushing her hair back. Hearing his deep inhale as it paused, no doubt seeing the mark left on her from last night.
“You sleep with him?” he practically whispered, her face crumpling at the question.
There was no point in lying.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, okay. What do you want me to say? That I’m heartbroken, hearing my fiancé went and slept with another man last night? Well, I am. I’m devastated.”
Samira hiccupped a sob as she sat down on the bed, feeling the mess between her legs that remained from the morning. Adding to how terrible of a person she felt like in this very moment. Apologies continued to spill out, unsure what else she could say in this situation. Nothing was going to change the truth.
Andrew sat down beside her, their thighs brushing against one another as her tears began to slow. He had leaned back over to grab the ring, hearing him fail to catch his breath before speaking.
He reached for her left hand, unable to watch as he slipped the ring back on her finger. Her empty stomach began to churn.
“I love you - and I think, I think you love me too. I know we can build a beautiful life together. I’m willing to forgive this. To put it behind us, leave and go back to our life in Jersey.”
It should relieve her that Andrew was willing to forgive her.
The thing was, she knew how incredible he was before she’d flown out here. She'd still done it. Andrew being willing to stick by her side, that she was for certain she didn’t deserve.
“But this?” he reiterates, looking down at her phone, “This has to end here. I don’t want you to contact him again.”
The skin of her bottom lip took the blow of his words. She felt herself shaking, breathing in, and smelling Jack's lingering cologne on her clothes. If she were smart, she’d accept his offer. Keep the engagement ring, apologize, and pull herself together. Promise that last night was a one-time thing. A mistake.
“Andrew.”
She knew that it wasn't a mistake.
Slowly, her fingers pulled the ring off her finger for what would be the last time.
It reflected off the blank screen of the television, surprised at how calm she was. Samira reached over, placing it in the palm of his hand. Closing the end of their chapter. She could see the devastation on his face as her actions registered what this meant. It was over.
“Okay,” he whispered, leaning in and giving her a forehead kiss, pausing for a few seconds longer before pulling away. Hearing the door open, Andrew stopped, looking back at her once more, “Goodbye, Samira.”
-
The air conditioner simultaneously kicked on as the hotel door slammed shut.
She was alone again - this time, for good.
Samira sat in the freezing room until the sound of her phone ringing snapped her out of it. Heather’s ID lit up the screen, watching it until it went to voicemail. The red notifications were at 28 on calls, and 53 text messages.
Reaching over, she held the power button down until the screen went dark.
His family. Their friends. The invitations.
There was no way out of this without people talking. He had every right to tell the truth that his fiancée cheated on him, and that was why it was over.
Throwing the few belongings back in her suitcase, she grabbed the car keys and went back downstairs. Dropping the keys off at the front desk. She made it back to the house in record time, still wearing the same clothes as earlier. Major greeted her by the door again, checking out the suitcase. All she could think about was a hot shower, changing her mind as the idea of a bath crossed her mind.
She tossed her phone on top of the dresser, accidentally sliding into a stack of papers Jack kept there. Quickly, she picked them up before the dog came and chewed them to shreds.
On top of the mess, a letter addressed to herself stood out.
It was sealed shut, addressed to her, the full address in New Jersey right under it. A stamp stuck in the corner.
12/03/2024
Dear Samira,
I didn’t think I’d ever have to be writing another one of these letters again. If only I’d kept my shitty stationery I bought overseas twenty years ago.
I know I could just text you this, but you know me. I’d probably fax it if I could. You’ve been gone for three months now. I overheard Heather talking about you this week. I’m glad your fellowship is going so well for you, darling. I knew you’d fit in there. Major and I have been alright - trying to adjust to your absence hasn't been easy. My therapist has started pushing her hobby agenda on me again. Don't worry, I won't do what you're thinking.
Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. I’ve replayed our last day together a million times in my head, and each time I think about what I should have said. I want you to know that I am so proud of you and everything you are doing. I don't want you to think I'm over here resenting you for leaving. I think I’m done with the whole dating thing, you were it for me. I've had two incredible loves in my life, and that has been more than enough.
I know you’re going to find someone out there who will love you as much as I do. I want that for you. I want you to get to experience that life we talked about having one day, and take a step back from work.
Thank you for giving me that time together. You showed me that I was not only capable of loving someone again, but that I could also fall deeply in love.
I know you won’t, but if you ever find yourself wanting to come back home, I’m here.
I’ll always be here.
Yours,
Jack A
Samira stayed frozen to the carpet as her hand clenched the letter, rereading it before gasping for breath of air. Why hadn't he mailed it to her? She tucked it under her arm, walking back into the bathroom and flipping the faucet on. Reading it once more while she waited for the tub to fill up.
She stayed in until the water had gone cold. Her fingers pruned. How long she’d been in there, Samira wasn’t sure. Andrew was probably long gone by now, in the airport somewhere, waiting to go home to a life that didn’t include her anymore. On the corner of the tub, she kept Jack's letter propped up against the shampoo bottle.
Sliding back down into the tub, the water pulled her under. Not hearing the front door unlock, or Major barking as someone entered the bathroom.
Jumping, she felt the hand against her arm, pushing herself up and out of the water. Swooshing all around her before settling back down. Jack was bent over, staring at her like he’d seen a ghost. She took a couple of deep breaths, pushing the water away from her eyes as he reached for one of the towels on the rack.
“How long have you been in here, sweetheart? It’s freezing.”
Samira shrugged, not feeling like she deserved the warmth. Or the kindness she was being shown right now. His eyes gestured upward, reaching to flip the drain down. Slowly, she stood up from the water, her hand gripping the handle tight. Jack wrapped the towel around her shaking frame, trying to absorb the water quicker.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I lost track of time.”
Jack didn’t reply, too focused on taking care of the frozen body in front of him. He guided her to sit on the toilet seat, saying something about clothes before disappearing. The draining water stopped, making the room quieter as he returned, holding clothes from his dresser.
“Andrew was there when I got back.”
He visibly stiffened at her words, stirring up more guilt for dragging him into this mess.
“Is he still there?”
Her head moved, seeing the letter out of the corner of her eye. Shit.
“He left,” she answered, her nerves on fire, “He’d called Collins, who had no idea I was even in Pittsburgh.”
“Heather Collins?”
Samira hummed, knowing she needed to call and apologize for dragging her into all of this. Slowly but surely collecting a list of people she’d hurt by this.
“It’s over, Jack. I called it off.”
With the truth out in the open, his arms were wrapped around her once the words sank in, not caring at the fact that she was dripping wet.
She was so tired of crying.
Her exhausted eyes burned as she buried her face into his shirt. This was all she wanted - him. She didn’t care if they never officially got married or had the children they’d talked about having. Last month marked the beginning of her thirties, and he was a couple of months away from turning 54. It didn’t always feel like it, but they both still had so much life left to live.
“Come here,” he grumbled into her ear, reaching down and pulling her into his lap, “Come on, baby.”
She didn’t dare reject him, craving him now as much as she did last night.
Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his lips - full of need and desperation. Jack kissed her right back, his arm around her tightening. Essentially, a security blanket to her fragile being. The kisses didn’t stop, the love confessions pouring out as her wet body soaked into his scrubs.
“I love you,” she panted, “I’m in love with you, Jack. I don’t think I ever really stopped.”
It was what she’d been trying to say since they first kissed.
Jack didn’t say anything back, pushing a loose curl behind her ear as she spilled her heart out. Stopping, she reached around him, grabbing the letter and pressing it to his chest.
She swallowed harshly, using his words, “I want to come home.”
-
Samira's fellowship ended on a Thursday.
Andrew had moved his stuff out of her apartment by the following Monday after they called the engagement off. They’d done a good job of avoiding one another, and she saw on Instagram that he had taken a trip to Vegas with a couple of his old college friends. She’d removed their wedding registry, sending an email out to the guests with an update.
A couple of people actually responded, apologizing to hear the news.
They had officially offered her a position as an attending in their ER. It came with nearly any benefit she could have asked for, including enough PTO to travel the English countryside if she chose to do so. The rejection email was sent out that same day, thanking them for the opportunity and the time spent here, but she’d already accepted a position back home.
In Pittsburgh.
This time, Jack took the last box downstairs, loading it in the back of his truck bed. Samira stood on the sidewalk, admiring her hot boyfriend carrying her stuff with ease. He caught her staring, winking as heat rose to her cheeks.
“Who’s watching Major?”
“You know Robby loves dogs.”
That made her laugh, shaking her head as he shut the gate up. He came up to her, pulling her side into his as her forehead met his lips.
“Let’s go home.”