Chapter 12: Unattainable Heart

262 13 2
                                    

"Hello," I said fearlessly as I answered Sam's phone.

"Who is this?" Kirk's confused voice came through the line, wondering who had picked up the call meant for his wife.

Kirk's recognition dawned suddenly, and he confirmed, "Is this Mon?"

Ignoring Kirk's question, I replied, "If you're looking for Sam, she's still in the office taking a nap. She's not feeling well."

Kirk's concern heightened as he asked, "What happened to Sam?"

I reassured him, "Sam is okay now, she's just sleeping." Then I asked, "Can you pick up your wife at the office?"

To my surprise, Sam suddenly grabbed the phone and ended the call as she sat down.

Weakly, Sam replied, "I'm not going home with Kirk." She composed a text message to her husband, asking him not to come and pick her up.

I reached for Sam, assisting her as she sat. I pushed her slightly so she could still lean back, then replied, "Why did you sit? You should stay down."

Sam reiterated to me, "I'm not going home with Kirk. I'll go home to my own house."

I replied, "Okay," understanding her weakened state due to the fever.

As Sam gazed at me, I smiled and added, "For tonight, I'll stay to take care of you." I offered the food I bought earlier and said, "You should eat now so you can take the medicine I bought."

Seeing Sam's eyes full of longingness, I smiled as she weakly nodded in agreement to eat. Sam insisted, "Mon, you should eat too."

In the soft glow of the dimly lit room, I sat beside Sam, gently feeding her spoonfuls of warm soup. Sam's eyes, heavy with fatigue, met mine with gratitude as she savored each bite. Occasionally, I would pause to wipe her lips tenderly with a napkin, ensuring her comfort.

As Sam finished her meal, I helped her take small sips of cool water from a glass, supporting her trembling hand with mine. Her weak smile conveyed a silent thank you as she leaned against me for support.

Finally, I carefully retrieved the medicine I had brought and placed it in Sam's hand. With a reassuring smile, I helped her swallow the pill, offering words of encouragement.

As we finished our meal, I offered to bring Sam home. Together, we hailed a taxi, and during the ride, Sam leaned her weary head on my shoulder. In a hushed tone, she whispered, "Can you stay with me through the night?"

I was taken aback by Sam's request, my eyes widening in surprise. Internally, I questioned why Sam was asking this, knowing she was married. However, outwardly, I remained composed and simply sighed at ignored her request, but brushed her head instead.

As we arrived at Sam's home, I stepped out of the taxi first, ensuring I could assist Sam safely. I gently guided her out, protecting her head from bumping into the taxi's door frame. With a steadying hand, I helped Sam navigate her way out of the vehicle, making sure she disembarked safely.

Once Sam and I had safely disembarked from the taxi, it pulled away and left. Sam proceeded towards her gate while I stood still, gazing at her house, memories of our old good days flooding my mind. There was a moment of reflection, a pause in time as the past intertwined with the present.

"Mon," Sam called softly, signaling for me to come nearer to her.

I approached, meeting her gaze with curiosity. "What is it, Sam?"

Sam hesitated for a moment before finally asking, "Can you stay with me through the night? Please?"

"Sam, you're a married woman. It wouldn't be appropriate for me to stay, considering our past," I replied.

Sam countered, "But Mon, we're friends. Can't friends stay overnight? It's not about our past; it's about being there for each other now, I need you."

"I appreciate your request, Sam, but it's not appropriate. Now, get inside so you can rest," I firmly ordered.

Sam nodded in agreement, expressing her gratitude, "Thank you, Mon, for taking care of me. Even for a short period, I felt your care again." She continued inside her house, leaving Mon standing with a mix of emotions.

I followed Sam with my gaze as she walked through her front door, ensuring she made it safely inside until she disappeared from my sight. With a sigh, I hoped she would rest well and recover soon.

Upon reaching home, I went directly to my room. Before settling in, I checked my phone and noticed an unread message from Sam. It simply said, "Mon, call me when you get home."

Feeling a pang of concern, I quickly dialed her number, eager to ensure she was alright after our eventful evening together.

"Is everything okay, Sam?" I asked with concern.

Sam reassured me, "I'm okay. I just wanted to check if you got home safely."

Relieved, I replied, "I'm okay. You should get some rest now."

But Sam abruptly stopped me from ending the call, saying, "Wait, can we talk for a moment?"

Surprised, I asked, "What else should we talk about?"

Sam replied softly, "Us."

"There is no more 'us,' Sam," I replied gently. "You're already married. Have you forgotten?"

"You can't deny the feelings you have, Mon," Sam replied softly. "I felt it earlier, how you looked at me, how you took care of me. It's the same love you had for me before."

"It was the same you, Mon, the one I've been longing for these past three years," Sam added, her voice filled with emotion.

Tears began to shed from my eyes as Sam pleaded over the phone. The weight of our history and unresolved feelings weighed heavily on my heart.

"Why do you need to hide your feelings for me, Mon?" Sam exclaimed through tears. "I can feel that you still love me, despite everything that happened in the past."

"It's not that easy, Sam," I replied gently, my voice trembling with emotion. "Do you think it's easy for me to see you, knowing that someone else owns the legal rights for you?"

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I continued, "If only you knew how much I wanted to kiss you, to hug you, to be with you every day. It's because I still love you, Sam. But the truth of your marriage keeps me from doing it all."

As both Sam and I breathed heavily, tears flowing freely, we cried over the phone, mourning a love that seemed impossible to reclaim. The weight of our shared pain hung in the air, a poignant reminder of a love that could never be.

"Mon, I still love you... I really do love you," Sam confessed tearfully.

Feeling overwhelmed, I tried to end the conversation gently, "It's getting late, Sam. You need to rest so your fever will get better. We're just being emotional about this."

With a heavy heart, I ended the call, tears still streaming down my face. I gazed at a picture of Sam that I had been hiding, the weight of our unspoken love lingering in the air.

WHAT IF???Where stories live. Discover now