Chapter 8

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"Sam, take your time. I'm here to listen to whatever you have to say."

His therapist, Dr. Kotos, folded his manicured hands in his lap and waited. Normally Sam appreciated his calming tone and patient manner. Not today. Today he wanted ... Sam didn't know what he wanted, but it wasn't quiet. 

"I.. I got a call..."

He still couldn't believe it.  Cruz had just ordered his second beer and considering they were due back in the office in 15 minutes, Sam knew his friend was stressed. Lunch had been his idea and Sam figured Cruz wanted to talk about whatever was bothering him. So far they had managed to discuss hockey, the new condos being built down the street and how Ali's trip to California was going.

Sam had decided he was going to have to bring up the subject of Cruz's current attitude when he felt the buzz of his phone in his pocket. Part of him hoped it was Ali, but the distinct single tingle meant probably not.  Even on silent, he wanted to know when she called and as such had set her calls to the heartbeat vibration.  It seemed appropriate.  Still, she could have been calling from her mother's place or the hospital so he looked at the screen.

Unknown number.  He hesitated for a moment before answering it. "Hello?"

"Sammy," a meek voice eeked out his name like a plea.

Bitterness filled his mouth and the pad thai he had just gobbled up surged in his stomach.

Vicky.

Sam's thumb found the little red button to hang up and dropped the phone on the table as if it had burned his hand. Staring at the dark screen, Sam tried to gain control of the speeding train that was his heart pounding.

Cruz was staring at him. "Everything alright?" he asked, drawing the words out in a cautious question.

All Sam could do was nod his head; his mouth had gone dry.

"El diablo? "

Sam grimaced at Cruz's joke. The man had no idea how close to the truth he had hit. Draining the dregs of his own beer, Sam cleared his throat. "Someone I don't want to talk to." Ever.

Of course, Cruz knew Vicky, having worked with her only a few months ago.  When she failed to attend the charity event she had been helping to organize, Cruz had asked Sam about it.  Sam told him parts of the truth - Vicky had decided not to go. What he didn't tell his friend was certain facts like Ali had banned her and Vicky had good reasons to never show her face to Sam again.

There had been no sign of her since. It was like she vanished. Vicky had stopped showing up for work and was no longer with the organization.  The Harrington Foundation had tried to contact her regarding some leftover business, but she never returned their calls. Sam preferred it this way, not wanting to see or even talk to her.

Not that he spoke to anyone about Vicky. The only exceptions were Ali and Dr. Kotos.

Ali was his first choice. Unfortunately, she was across the country, dealing with her own problems. Sam didn't want to interrupt her with... well with nothing.  It was just a phone call.  He had planned on telling her about it during their call last night, but she had sounded so upset about her father, he didn't want to burden her.  He thought he had it handled. When sleep eluded him more than usual, his mind vacillating between the now too familiar inner monologue of anger, guilt and something else, he knew he needed help. 

With the time difference, it was too early to call Ali. So here he was sitting in his therapist's office, two coffee cups on the table before him casting weak shadows in the early morning light. Rubbing his hands on his thighs, Sam caught Dr. Kotos up.

"That must have been quite upsetting."

Sam barked out a gruff laugh. "You think?"  He could feel the train inside him picking up speed again, his heart racing.

"Sam, take a breath."

Complying Sam closed his eyes and focused on forcing air in and out of his lungs.  It took a few moments, but the technique started to work.

"It's not fair," Sam murmured when the roaring in his ears started subsiding.

"You're right.  It's not." The doctor's dulcet tones were not quite as annoying when he was agreeing with him.

"I mean she shouldn't get to just do that." Sam took another deep breath, "drop into my life whenever she feels like it, stirring up..." Sam's voice petered out.

"Maybe if you talked about what sh..."

"No." Sam cut him off. He didn't want to talk about that today.

"We don't have to explore how she hurt you." Sam was grateful Dr. Kotos chose not to use the word abuse. He hated it. It made him feel weak, helpless. He wanted to feel in control again.

"However, we have to find a way to help you move forward, so ... episodes like this can be avoided," the doctor continued.

Yes, thought Sam. Because they were getting worse. Since Ali had left, he found himself jumpy and irrational.  Sleep would help, but he found it difficult to come by without her in his bed. He missed watching Ali go through her before bed routine, telling him about her day or the book she was reading, soft kisses and holding her in his arms as she drifted into slumber.  Worse, he was unable to shake foolish notions of tragic accidents befalling the love of his life.

"I blocked all her numbers. She shouldn't be able to contact me."

Dr. Kotos regarded him. "Is it not about more than just her contacting you?"

Always with the questions. Why couldn't the man just give him the solution and they could all move on. Sam knew enough of the process by now to understand there was something else they were talking about.

Across the table, his therapist leaned forward. "What do you think she wanted?"

"How should I know?" Sam bleated.

"Do you want to know?"

Ashamed of himself, Sam nodded.

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