Page 24 of The Love Lie
The ride back to the resort passes in a blink of laughter and grins, the five of them now in the hot tub talking about everything they saw and how ridiculously beautiful the Maldives are, patting themselves on the back for picking such a gorgeous spot. When they make it back to the dock, Sam reluctantly slips her sandals on as the real world settles back on her shoulders.
“Want to join us for an early dinner?” Nina asks.
“I think we’re just going to get room service tonight,” Sam answers quickly, not letting Cooper jump in. A suggestive smile curves her lips. “I can only share him for so long.”
They make their goodbyes, promising to find each other again soon. The crew turns left toward the bungalows. Sam and Cooper turn right toward the front desk. The second they’re alone, the magic of the afternoon dissipates. She drops his hand. She steps a foot to the left. She marches a few steps ahead, on a mission. They don’t speak more than a handful of words while Sam retrieves her laptop and phone and immediately scans her messages.
There are some from her roommate, some from her coworkers, some from her parents, and some from—
Jake.
Fear grabs hold of her heart, talons sinking too deep to dislodge. She can feel herself pale. Cooper furrows his brow, already able to read her too-familiar face.
“Is everything okay?”
“Mm-hmm.”
She doesn’t trust herself to speak. And she can’t do this here, so she pushes past him and uses her New York power walk to book it back to the bungalow. As soon as they step through the door, rule number three goes into effect. They’re back to beingstrangers. Even though she can tell he doesn’t want to, Cooper respects the boundary and lets her retreat to the bedroom without intervening. She flinches as the door slams shut behind her, that loudbangrevealing far too much about her emotional state.
But this is what she’s been waiting days—no, weeks—for, ever since the doctor’s office had called her, explaining that they couldn’t get in touch with Emily and Sam was her sister’s emergency contact. Retrieving the phone was never about work. She doesn’t want to be fired, obviously, but she couldn’t give two shits about what’s waiting in her corporate inbox. This is so much more important. This is why she swapped places with her sister in the first place. It’s the whole reason she’s even here.
Still, Sam hesitates.
Terror leaves her rigid, unable to cross those last few millimeters. Her thumb hovers over the screen, her pulse thundering so wildly she can feel the throb against her nail. Maybe this is why she went with Cooper on the yacht. Why she didn’t run straight to the lobby for the phone. Why she came all the way back to the room. Why she’s still delaying. Because up until now she’s been secretly telling herself it’s nothing, but as soon as she reads these messages, she won’t be able to avoid the truth any longer.
Stop being an idiot. Em is fine.
She’s FINE.
Sam swipes the screen.
She clicks on Jake’s name.
With her heart in her throat, she scans the missed texts.
Since I’m texting from his phone, you can probably guess I found Jake at the hotel like we planned. I know it’s killing you a little inside to help me fly right back into his arms, but it’s going to be different this time. I know it is. I promise, Sam. I love him. I love him so freaking much. And he loves me. I finally told himeverything, and he said none of it matters as long as we’re in it together. I’m so happy right now. Happier than I can ever remember being, and I just… Thank you. Thank you so much, sis. Not just for swapping places with me, but for giving us your blessing. It means everything. I love you.
Sorry, that was sort of an essay, wasn’t it…
Oh right, you’re probably still freaking out! I called Dr. Laghari and it was nothing. The sample I gave before the show got contaminated. They need me to come for another blood draw. That was it. That was everything. Totally routine. Jake and I will be on the next flight out to New York. I’ll update you as soon as I can!
Landed! Can we stay at your apartment?
We’re staying at your apartment.
Do you own anything with a pattern? My god. Your closet is sad. I’m actually crying.
Hey—where’s that Lilly Pulitzer dress I got you for Christmas a few years ago?
You returned it, didn’t you?
You did.
Without telling me?!
*Angry Face*
Is nothing sacred?
