Page 95 of Stay With Me
“I don’t get it,” Jenna said for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was becoming annoying, but at least the conversation was helping to pass the last few minutes.
Samantha tilted her head to cradle the phone on her shoulder. “What don’t you get?”
“You’ve been going over to see him—at his parents’house of all places—every single day for, what? How long has it been now?”
Samantha shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe six or seven weeks?”
“For six or seven weeks,” Jenna went on. “And you haven’t had, like,thetalk yet?”
Samantha groaned quietly. “I don’t know why we need to havethetalk.”
“You mean to tell me you aren’t the least bit curious if he sees you as his girlfriend or his friend or whatever?”
“I don’t think it matters yet,” Samantha insisted. “He’s been stuck in bed in constant pain for more than two months now. I’m sure deciding what we are is the last thing on his mind.”
“Well, I think you’re technically way past ten dates at this point. Have youdone ityet?”
Samantha scoffed as she fanned her face. “Jenna, he’s got a metal contraption on one of his legs, I’m pretty suredoing itis impossible so the ten date thing is basically obsolete now. Besides, his mom or dad is always right in the next room. It feels a little like junior high school at this point.”
Jenna cackled. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”
Samantha shrugged again. “It is what it is.”
“So,” Jenna interjected. “Does he ever say anything that makes you think he might be thinking of you as a girlfriend type? Or maybemore?Huh? Huh?”
Samantha laughed. “Well … he’s always talking about this crazy dream he had about us while he was unconscious.”
“Really? What was it?”
“It was like this super realistic, vivid dream about us living our whole lives together.”
Jenna gave a tiny gasp. “Oh wo-ow.”
“Yeah, apparently we dated for a whole year and then got married, had a kid, and grew old together. And then I died when we were old. He goes into all these crazy details about it like it was as real as anything that had ever happened to him. Like down to what I wore on dates, and fights we had, the kind of engagement ring he bought me and what our wedding was like, and all this crazy elaborate stuff. He even calls me Sammie now because apparently in his dream he started calling me that after we’d been together for about a month,” Samantha explained. “And apparently it was so realistic that it took him a few days before he realized it had actually never happened.”
“Holy moly,” Jenna muttered. “How can you hear something like that and not think he probably sees you as something more than a friend?”
“Well, it was just a dream, Jenna.”
“Yeah, but haven’t you ever had a super realistic dream? Or like a horrible nightmare or something? Things like that can stick with a person forever.”
“Yeah, but-”
“But nothing!” Jenna sputtered. “You’re making up excuses again because you’re afraid and you literally have no reason to be. This is pretty much the perfect situation to lay the foundation for a serious, committed relationship, and-”
“This situation is the furthest thing from perfect, Jenna!” Samantha retorted. “We both nearlydied.”
“I’m saying you have that to bond over, and you’ve had weeks to get to know each other as people without sex getting in the way and clouding either of your judgment,” Jenna insisted. “And I honestly believe if he had a dream where he married you,he sees you that way in real life. At least on some level. Especially if he keeps bringing it up.”
Samantha glanced at the clock again.
Four fifty-seven.
She powered down her computer and started filing away papers.
Samantha huffed. “Well, so what?”
“So you should havethetalk.”
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