Samantha
Before dinner begins, she excuses herself to the ladies room to compose herself; fixing some stray hairs and adjusting the silk dress. When she returns to the private area they found, Henry remains sitting there, holding her black heels in his hand while he looks over the crowd of people.
"Here," She says, her voice breaking him away from whatever he was thinking. She takes the heels from him and slips them back on her feet. "Thanks for holding onto them for me."
"Of course."
"Sam!" Someone calls several feet away. When she looks over her shoulder, she sees Cody gesturing for her to come over. The head table reserved for close family members and friends is now being seated for appetizers.
She nods and holds up a finger before turning her gaze back to Henry. "If we don't sit together, promise you'll say goodbye before you leave?"
His jaw tenses for a brief second but he catches it. He didn't plan on staying very long, just long enough to make an appearance and give Stephen the cigars. But the way she looks at him right now is like a hopeful little kid. He can't say no to her. He doesn't want to. "Promise."
"Pinky promise," she says, extending her little pinky towards him with a teasing look.
The gesture itself is completely adorable and innocent. He can't help but extend his pinky to hers, twisting them together. Her finger is so tiny compared to his that it practically disappears. "I pinky promise."
She smiles, proud of herself for tricking a grown man into making a pinky promise. "Don't forget." She warns before she leaves him to join her husband.
Cody watches this exchange from the floor, narrowing his eyes when she approaches. "Where have you been all night?"
"Drinking," She says simply, not meeting his eyes. Hopefully he just leaves it at that. She can tell he's had a few drinks too; he's removed his blazer and now just sports his white button up without the bow tie.
"Well don't stop on my count." He gestures to one of the waiters carrying a tray of drinks. He grabs a glass of champagne for both of them and hands it off to her. "Drink up, my love."
You don't have to tell her twice. She empties the contents of her glass and places it back on the waiters silver tray, thanking them with a polite smile.
"How about you bring a bottle to our seats, buddy?"
The waiter nods and takes off without a second thought. Samantha takes this chance to look back over her shoulder at where her and Henry were sitting. He's no longer there and she tries to stop herself from scanning the crowd for him. Instead, she looks back to her husband and in her hazy state, she takes this opportunity to really look at him. He still looks like the boy that asked her to prom all those years ago, although he's gotten better at styling his jet black hair and adopted a businessman wardrobe. She bites her lip. There's so many things she thinks about saying right then. So many things she wants from him. A dance. A kiss. A "good job." She just wants him to see her. She opens her mouth to say something, not even sure where this is going, "I want-" I want this to work. I want us to make it, Cody. Can't you see that? I'm still the quiet girl from high school madly in love with you.
Her eyes drop down to his neck. And then she sees it. A red lipstick mark. Right there below the edge of his jaw. God dammit, he's not even trying to hide it anymore. It's so fucking obvious! She can't even play dumb or act ignorant. She can't pretend it isn't real and feed herself another Bull shit excuse or justification. It's right there in her face, mocking her.
"You want what?" Cody raises an eyebrow.
I want to cry. I want to run. I want someone to hold me. I want to go home. I want a divorce. I want to be loved. I want the last 7 years of my life back. I want you to see what you've done to me. Her thoughts are screaming out at her and she bites down hard on her bottom lip to keep back the word vomit. She can feel her nose start to prickle and her throat tighten. Please don't do this now. Not here. You can cry later, I promise. Just get through this dinner and then you can leave. You can do it. You've done it plenty of times before...
"I want another drink." She mumbles, shaking his arm away from her. She proceeds to make her way to the head table, feeling him follow close behind, completely oblivious to the fact that he's breaking her.
Stephen stands at the head of the table, trying to wrap up his conversation with some old schmuck so he can sit down to eat. Seated to the birthday man's right is Claire, whose disapproving eyes are scanning the tables for any mistakes in their set up. Cody's older brother, Nick, sits next to her. When he sees the couple, he points to the two empty chairs next to him. Across the table, on Stephen's left, Henry sits with his hands on his lap. He's tapping his foot under the table. The spot next to him is taken by a red headed woman whose name escapes Samantha completely but she knows she's met the woman before. The woman is wearing a v neck green dress that puts everyone else at the party to shame. Just seeing her makes Samantha want to curl up in a ball under the table. It doesn't help that the woman is engaging in a conversation with Henry. He says something that causes the red head to throw her head back with laugher, making her giant fuck-me tits shake, as she squeezes at his arm.
I should've taken Cody up on his offer to pay for a boob job when I had the chance, Samantha can't help but think.
Luckily, the waiter Cody fetched earlier comes around with a bottle of champagne, placing it in a bucket of ice in front of the couples plates. This is enough to distract her attention away from the redhead and her marriage counselor.
Henry
He's known about the cheating for a while, long before Samantha showed up to his office. When you've worked in the field as long as he has, you see the signs before they're even there. It's part of the secret to his success- the reason he's become so respected and sought after in the psychology world. The moment he watched the couple exchange vows at the wedding, he knew the marriage didn't stand a chance. The priest seemed to leave out the part of the ceremony where he asks if anyone objects to the marriage. Would Henry have stood up then? Probably not, as bad as that sounds. It's not like therapists and marriage counselors have a legal obligation to stop a doomed relationship from happening. No one would bother getting married if that were the case. His job is to provide a safe space for clients to vent and process their own feelings. He can guide them with questions and feedback. He can make suggestions. He can draw his own conclusions and have his own opinions. But he can't make someone do something they don't want to do.
So he sits at the dinner table among this dysfunctional family and he sees the lipstick mark on Cody's neck. There were other indications of his indiscretions; he's the only one without his blazer or a jacket despite never having ventured to the dance floor, the wrinkled fabric of his shirt, the top buttons open and his bow tie disregarded, the fact that his fly's undone...
What a prick, Henry grimaces.
And Samantha knows too. She has to. Although she hasn't brought up cheating before, they've only had one session. She mostly spent the time faulting herself for the state of the marriage, which he'll have to work with her on. Sure, accountability is important for everyone, but there's such a thing as taking too much. The girl blames herself for everything and believes if she figures out what she's doing wrong, all their problems will disappear.
The appetizers are served promptly, followed by New York strip and lobster tails. Henry doesn't say much and for once, he's thankful that Stephen is such a talker so that no one notices his lack of participation. Claire had forced him to sit next to the red headed woman- clearly an attempt to set him up. He's already forgotten her name but she continues to try to engage him in conversation. About what, he hasn't a clue.
Most of his attention is focused on the other side of the table, where Samantha sits. He tries to be subtle about his looks to her, wondering what's going on in that head of hers. He takes to counting her drinks. Someone thought it was a good idea to present her with a bottle of champagne and she continues pouring without restraint. The more she drinks, the clumsier her pouring skills become. It's certainly not the healthiest coping mechanism and they haven't talked about it at all, but he can't fault her. He makes a mental note to try to work on that with her- however it comes up. Her plates of food sit untouched throughout the dinner and he wishes to see her husband at least try to get her to eat something or drink some water. But no one seems to pay any attention to the sad woman in red.
Dessert can't come fast enough. The waiters come out with their plates of cheesecake and everyone starts to dine on the final course of the evening. He doesn't have much of a sweet tooth so he slides his plate of dessert to Stephen, who makes a joke about how he's surprised Henry hasn't already escaped for the evening.
It's right as this happens that there's a crashing sound of glasses, followed by something else, almost like a thud.
"Whoops!" A small voice giggles.
Everyone's attention goes to Samantha, who has not only dropped the bottle of champagne and the remainder of its contents on the table, but who has also fallen out of her chair as well. All you can make of her is the top of her hair.
Instinctively, Henry stands up, pushing his chair out with rapid thought. He's already on her side of the table, moving instantly to help her up.
Before he can lift her, Cody has backed out of his own chair. Her husband's face reveals his annoyance as he grumbles under his breath. "Come on, Sam, you got champagne on me," He growls lowly, gripping the top of her arm and yanking her up into a sitting position. "Get. Up."
"Owwww, hey, that hurts!" She whines, trying to pry his fingers off her. She stands to her feet rather clumsily. "Let go of me."
Claire rises from her seat with a nervous laugh. "I apologize, everyone. Please continue with dessert. It looks like not everyone can handle their liquor like the birthday boy over here."
This causes the party to erupt in laughter. Most of them return to their previous conversations and cake eating then.
Claire rushes to the three standing adults; her son and daughter in law and Henry, who has his hands out preemptively in case Samantha slips again.
"Cody, I will not tolerate this kind of behavior tonight. Get her out of here. Now."
"I'm not ready to leave yet-" Her son starts.
"Don't make me ask again." Claire warns. Her eyes are boring a hole straight through him but her lips are smiling, keeping up with the charade for all the guests
"Actually, I was just leaving. I'm happy to drop her off." Henry interjects.
The three turn to look at him.
"Oh, Henry, that's so kind of you but I would hate to inconvenience you," Claire says sweetly.
"It's not an inconvenience at all. It's actually on my way home." Henry smiles. "Really, it's no trouble."
Claire looks back to the couple with expectant eyes. Figure it out fast, her face says.
Cody looks at Henry. He does a quick survey of the man, clenching his jaw. "Be my guest."
"Then it's settled." Claire gives a satisfied smile before returning to her seat next to her husband.
Samantha looks at Henry, her savior. From where she stands and in this state, it looks like there's two of him. She then drags her eyes back to her husband, finally removing his fingers from her arm. Even drunk, she can tell there's going to be a bruise there tomorrow.
Henry decides to pull her chair back a bit more, out of her way, and reaches for her purse, linking it around his arm. "Come on, Samantha," He urges, touching her elbow gently.
She nods while staring at her husband for a minute longer. Her face is unreadable as she takes a step closer to him. "You've got lipstick on your neck, by the way."
And with that, she lets Henry guide her out of the building. He wraps his arm around her waist like before, hugging her tightly to his side and easily supporting most of her weight.
When they get outside the building, Henry nods to the valet to retrieve his car. "It's just going to be a second to get the car." He says to her.
She shivers and tugs at the bottom of her dress. "O-Okay."
"Here," He helps her stand straight on her feet before he removes his blazer, slipping it over her shoulders. Her tiny frame drowns in it. "Is that better?"
"Yeah," She says, slipping her arms into the sleeves. "Thanks."
The valet pulls up with his Lamborghini almost five minutes later. Henry thanks him and tips him generously before helping Samantha into the passenger seat. "Watch your head."
She sinks into the leather seat with a tired sigh, closing her eyes.
"I'm going to put the seat belt on you, okay?"
"Okay, Doc," she mumbles tiredly.
He can't help but hold his breath as he pulls the belt across her lap, clicking it into the button. He can definitely smell the champagne on her but he also catches a whiff of that familiar scent of hers, sugar plums and vanilla. Once he has her set up, he closes her door and climbs into the driver's seat.
"Now I don't have your address, Samantha, so I'm going to need you to give that to me, okay?"
"No." She says with her eyes still closed. "I don't want to go home. Please don't take me back there."
He searches her face in the darkness of the car. "Where do you want me to take you then?"
"I want a burger."
He's happy to hear she wants to eat now. At least it's something. "Okay, we can get you a burger. Where from?"
"In-N-Out."
He chuckles. "I don't think there's one in New York."
"Okay then McDonald's."
"Alright. Let's get you some McDonalds." He starts to think of the closest one from here and drives in that direction. "Let me know if you start feeling sick, okay?"
"Don't worry. I won't throw up in your Lambo." She giggles, finally opening her eyes to look out the windshield. "I can't even imagine if I did that."
"I don't care about that," He says. "Things can always be cleaned."
"You're a really nice guy, aren't you?"
He looks over at her for a second and they share a look before he swallows, looking back at the road. "I try to be. That doesn't mean I'm always successful."
"You're nice," She declares. "So nice that it doesn't make sense why you're friends with my father in law."
"We went to school together. He was two grades above me," He relaxes in his seat, easing one hand off the steering wheel to rest on the middle console. "He paid me to do his homework for him."
"No way? I didn't take you for a little rule breaker, Dr. Good."
He scoffs but doesn't say anything for a second. Apart from that bit in school, Henry's actually always been a stickler for rules. There's a reason for them and he believes they should be followed. They help give order to this crazy world. He was just a kid, then. He needed the money to support him and his mom after his dad left. And the social benefits of walking around with Stephen Chambers and his group wasn't a bad add on. He stopped getting bullied by kids in his grade after that.
"You got any other rules you're willing to budge on, Doc?" She leans into the console when she says this, perching her elbow up on it next to his.
The small contact makes him jump a bit but he doesn't move his arm away. It's nothing. They're sharing the console. That's it. Strangers do it on a plane all the time...
Why is she asking me this? It's the first time in his life he fails to pick up on her body language and behavior. He can't read the context. It's like she's gotten into his brain and jumbled it all up so nothing makes sense anymore.
His lips twitch at the corners. "You'll be the first to know."
"I don't believe you." She says, kicking off her heels and folding her feet under herself. This movement causes her silk dress to rise up slightly, giving a peek at the thick thighs underneath.
His fingers tighten around the steering wheel. Keep your eyes on the road, Henry. "Why not?"
""I don't know. Just a feeling. You've probably got other people you'd want to tell first. You know, like that red head from dinner."
He raises his eyebrows. The red head? "What red head?"
"don't act like you don't remember," she smirks. "She was sitting right next to you."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh."
"Samantha, I hope you don't think the worst of me when I say this but" As he says this, the car pulls into the McDonald's drive through. He looks over. His face and golden curls are back lit by the bright menu screens next to the car. "I don't even remember the woman's name."
Her cheeks flare up when he admits this. She's not sure why. Maybe it's the champagne. Or maybe it's the way he looks at her when he says it. His blue eyes search her face with intention. It's like for the first time in her life, someone is really looking at her. Seeing her. "Really?"
"Yes," He smiles with the corner of his mouth. His forehead then creases, lacing with worry and emotion she can't read. Like there's something he wants to say but can't. This look is gone in a blink when he decides to reach across the space between their seats.
And then she feels his fingers take a hold of her chin, forcing all her attention on him. His fingers feel like a shock to her system. It's electrifying, she drunkenly thinks in reference to the famous lyrics from the movie Grease. Where the hell did that thought come from... god, she can't think straight when he looks at her like this.
"So believe me when I say," His fingers then move to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You'll be the first to know when I want to break a rule."
She can only nod in response. This isn't happening. This isn't real.
He adjusts in his seat so his body is facing her more and he starts to lean in. He gets so close that she becomes dizzy, swimming in the scent of mint on his breath. His voice lowers as he finally says, "In fact, I think you're going to have me breaking a few rules tonight, Samantha."