Page 100

Where are you?

Outside.

Come inside.

Can you come out?

Yes.

I pocketed my phone and hurried out the front door a few paces away. In the late afternoon, the sun dipped behind the buildings and cast long shadows on the pavement. Sam's SUV sat parked in the driveway beside Rebecca's car. She met my gaze through the windshield and I waved for her to join me on the porch. She exited her car, then pocketed her keys and phone before heading over to me. Despite her slight smile, she appeared tired and walked at a slow pace. I noticed she still wore hijab around her neck just like last time.

I held my arms to her when she approached the steps and she hugged me right away. A soft sigh escaped her and I gave her a firm squeeze. Her lips pressed against my neck and I drowned myself in the fragrance of her perfume.

"Hello, my sweet," she whispered against me, the sensation of her warm breath sending a wave of shivers down my spine.

"Hi, honey." I leaned back to cup her face in my palms. Her thick, bold mascara and eyeliner had the appearance of gentle touch ups in the corners. I knew the reapplication of such meant she'd spent some time crying. "Tell me the truth. Are you okay?"

"I am now." She held my waist and offered me a small smile.

"Sit with me a minute?" I gestured to the swing bench on the front porch.

Samirah nodded, taking my hand and leading me over. She sat first, then pulled me into her lap. I ran my fingers through her hair and she kissed my wrist.

"Next time, I'm going with you, Sam. Knowing you're alone and afraid breaks my heart."

She listened to me, but brought my fingers to her lips to kiss each of my knuckles. When she met my gaze, glassiness darkened her eyes and she ran her hand up and down my thighs. Her silence unnerved me and only when a tiny tear escaped the corner of her eye, did I understand why.

She nodded, and I grazed my thumbs over her lips before brushing away her tears.

"You're the only person who has ever seen me cry," she said, her voice soft as she cleared her throat.

"I know." I pressed my forehead against hers and she closed her eyes.

She breathed slow, deep breaths until she calmed down enough to press a kiss to my lips. I met her there, placing my palm against her chest.

"I already did my crying and panic attack for the day. You missed it."

A soft chuckle left her and she shook her head. "Why do you make me feel better?"

"Because I get it, Sam. I get it. And the fact that you've been alone in it for years makes me angry." I brushed her hair away from her shoulders then took hold of her scarf. "Give me this." Unlike last time, she allowed me to unwrap the fabric from her neck and I tossed it around my own. "This has no power to hurt or harm."

"I don't want it on you." Her body tensed under me though she didn't pull it away. Yet.

"It's just fabric. And it smells like you. And it's warm." I settled it on myself like a regular scarf and her lips pursed. "It's not the cause of bad things. People caused the bad things. Sociopaths. Hate. Not this."

"I know, baby." She took my hands in hers and held them to her chest. "It represents the hate to me."

"I understand that. Today, we take away its power. Okay?"

"Okay." She kissed my knuckles again. "Are you sure you're not a therapist?"

"I'm sure, but I've been in therapy on and off for twenty years."

"How long have you seen Anita?"

"About eight years. She's by far the most helpful. I still see her, but now mainly for medicine. That I haven't been taking much these last few months," I told her. "We talked about termination a few years ago, but figured once a month or every few months would be okay."

"It sounds like she really helped you." Sam offered me a small smile. "I'm glad you have her."