Page 72 of Reign

They hadn’t spoken much since their phone call the other night, which didn’t make sense, because Sam wanted to call Marshall more than ever. But she didn’t know how to explain her situation to him when she didn’t quite understand it herself. What was she evendoinghere, sleeping on an air mattress in a house full of people she’d just met, instead of going back to the man she loved? It made no sense, yet she couldn’t bring herself to leave.

The few times they had talked, she and Marshall had stuck to frothy, superficial topics like the surfing conditions or Sam’s bartending anecdotes. It felt like they were both pretending not to notice the tension between them, which only made the tension more acute.

Sam tossed her phone into her bag, then pulled on black leggings and a lime-green hoodie.

Liam sat on the sisal carpet in the living room, his back against the couch and legs sprawled out before him as he scribbled in a notebook.

“Why do you always sit on the floor instead of the couch?” Sam asked.

Liam’s pen was still scratching over the page. “When I’m too comfortable, I write bad lyrics.”

“Can I see?”

“Not yet.” He abruptly shut the notebook, blinking as if emerging from a creative haze. It reminded Sam of how Nina looked when someone interrupted her reading.

“Are you off today?” Sam asked. “Want to go out?”

Liam nodded slowly. They hadn’t explicitly discussed that things between her and Marshall were strained, but he knew; the entirehouseknew. That was the thing about living so closely with other people; your lives became intertwined whether you wanted them to or not.

“There’s an eighties cover band at Vibrant tonight,” Liam offered. “Jessica is always begging us to go dancing there.”

Sam shifted her weight. “I didn’t mean I want to go out dancing; I just need a change of scene.”

“Oh.” Liam seemed confused. “I have to run some errands, but we could go on a walk later?”

“I’ll come with you on your errands!” That sounded like the perfect distraction.

Liam hesitated. “I’m going to Costco. It’s not a ton of fun, unless bargain shopping is your thing, which I doubt.”

“Costco? Is that…grocery shopping?” Sam guessed, and Liam choked out a laugh.

“More or less. It’s definitely an experience,” he added, which was enough to make up Sam’s mind.

“Sounds perfect.”

He grabbed his keys and they headed out back, to the twenty-year-old sedan that the roommates shared. Liam paused, glancing at Sam. “Don’t you want to put on a hat? Or one of those scarves that cover half your face?”

Oh, right. When it was just the two of them, Sam almost forgot that she was incognito. She pulled on a hot-pink beanie and a pair of oversized sunglasses. “Better?”

“Maybe ditch the glasses? You look like one of those reality stars who secretly wants to get her photo taken. Sorry,” Liam said, at her outraged expression. “It’s all the neon.”

“Neon is my signature color,” Sam muttered, but she removed the sunglasses and traded her green hoodie for one of his spare gray sweatshirts.

When they walked into Costco, Sam’s eyes widened. She’d been in American grocery stores a few times on royal tours: the management would cordon off various aisles so that her family could pretend to shop while photographers eagerly snapped photos.

Costco was nothing like the grocery stores of her memory.Its massive aisles held everything from electronics to garden hoses to area rugs. She stared around in awe, but Liam was walking with single-minded purpose to the grocery section, where he began throwing items into the cart—gallons of milk, a two-pack of rotisserie chickens, several bags of frozen berries.

“Tomato soup?” called out a woman in a red Costco shirt. She stood before a wheeled cart, which was covered in tiny paper cups of tomato soup.

Sam felt tears pricking at her eyes. Back at home, whenever she’d felt sick, her mom had always brought her tomato soup in bed. She would sit with Sam, feeding her one spoonful at a time with infinite patience.

“I’d love a soup.” Sam approached the cart. “How much?”

The salesperson gave her a funny look. “These are free samples. Take one.”

“Really?” The urge to cry dissolved in her chest into something verging on laughter. Sam grabbed a couple of paper cups and brought them back to Liam, handing him one.

“Look, these are free samples!” she told him in a stage whisper.