Page 274 of The Havenport Collection

Gio

I suspected Sam would appreciate the heavy bag, but I could not have anticipated how into it she would get. She started off tentatively, but once she hit her stride, she was throwing hooks like a prizefighter.

She was drenched in sweat and lying on the floor, chest heaving and a massive smile on her face.

I offered her my hand. “Let me buy you some pancakes. You earned them today.”

“I can’t. I look disgusting.” She looked down at her sweaty sports bra and old sweats.

I sat up, afraid of what the close proximity was doing to me.

“You look beautiful and powerful.”

Her already pink face flushed a deep red and she looked away.

“I can’t go anywhere. All everyone wants to talk about is cancer. And I’m so tired of talking about my body like it’s some TV show or fascinating project. I appreciate the kindness, but sometimes I just want to be treated normally.”

“Stop right there. You control the narrative. This is your fight, Sam. Do and say whatever you want. And you need to get out of this house.”

I gave her a stern look, and she returned it with a flirty smile that made me want to push her up against the wall and kiss the hell out of her. But it was ten a.m. on a Tuesday, and my mission was so much more important than my stupid lust.

I leaned back on my heels, enjoying the view of Sam, breathless and sweaty. “I’m enjoying the sports bra, so no need to cover up on my account. But Jackie…she usually requires shirts in the diner.” I gave her a flirty wink and she punched my arm.

“Keep it in your pants, Rossi.”

I clutched my heart. “That’s difficult on a good day, Sam, never mind when I just watched you throw punches like Rocky for an hour.”

“You’ve got a thing for Rocky, eh?” She was flirting back and I liked it. The sad, exhausted Sam from earlier was gone, and in her place was a sassy, sweaty goddess.

I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I like underdogs,” I whispered. “And I like pretty girls who can throw a decent punch.”

She bit her lip to keep from smiling. Flirting with Sam was so effortless, and I saw just how happy it made her to be treated normally like the beautiful woman she was and not a sick person to be pitied. I wanted to spend every minute complimenting her or riling her up.

And she needed it. She needed to be reminded of how attractive and womanly she was. And I wasn’t going to let her forget it.

I opened the door to Jackie’s Diner and gestured for Sam to walk in.

She looked around, admiring the midcentury decor, neon signs, and vinyl booths. “So this place hasn’t changed a bit.”

“Nope. The food is still delicious too.”

We had not made it through the doorway before I heard a shriek. “Samantha Sullivan.”

For a septuagenarian, Jackie moved fast, enveloping Sam in a strong hug and both of us in a cloud of J’adore Dior perfume.

She stepped back, straightened her frilly blue apron, and smiled at us.

“Thrilled to see you too, handsome,” she said to me.

“Your usual booth and a strawberry milkshake with two straws?” Jackie asked, raising an aggressively penciled eyebrow.

In high school, we usually only had enough money to order one milkshake.

I loved chocolate and Sam loved vanilla, so we would compromise on strawberry and share instead.

“Just breakfast today,” I said, taking the plastic menus from her hand. “We’ll seat ourselves.” I led Sam to the back, to the same corner booth we had spent our youth camped out in. We had spent hours here, sharing fries and doing homework with Matteo.

We said hello to a few people as I led Sam to our booth. Everyone was friendly, but we couldn’t escape the concerned gazes being shot in our direction.

“I’m glad you brought me here. I’m starving.”

“Good. Because this is the place for that. You know Joe will make you anything you want.”

She held my eye for a moment, hesitating. I didn’t know what was going through her head, but she looked nervous.

I waited, my heart pounding.

But before she could speak, Jackie was over, holding an old coffee pot and a notebook.

“You must be thrilled your girl is back in town,” she said, flipping over my chipped porcelain mug and filling it to the brim.

“Despite the terrible circumstances.” She gave Sam a sympathetic smile, and I knew what was coming.

I saw Sam’s face fall in slow motion and knew I needed to intervene.

After the hours spent building up her confidence, I couldn’t let her be the object of more pity.

I knew the last thing Sam wanted to do was to have a drawn-out conversation about cancer in the middle of the diner, so I decided to take Jackie’s bait instead.

So I did something silly and rash and frighteningly natural. I reached out and took Sam’s hand across the table, kissing it gently. “I’m always happy to spend time with my Sam,” I said, giving Jackie a pointed look.

Jackie’s eyes were like saucers. I looked at Sam and winked at her. I saw the corner of her mouth twitch as we both took big sips of our coffee.

“So you two are an item? It’s about damn time.”

Sam and I stared at each other, trying to keep from bursting out into laughter.

“And good for you, dear,” Jackie said to Sam, “landing Havenport’s most eligible bachelor.”

“Jackie,” I whined, “that’s not true.”

She tapped me on the head with her notepad. “Ever since those Quinns all coupled up, you are top of the list, my friend. Must be the beard. But I knew it. I knew you two would fall in love eventually.”

Sam squeezed my hand and gave Jackie a dazzling smile. “Jackie, no! It’s not like that. Our relationship is our business,” she said for dramatic effect.

“Oh yes,” I continued, winking at Jackie. “Please respect our privacy.”

Jackie was frozen, notepad midair, glasses with a bejeweled chain perched on her nose, with a face-splitting grin. “Of course,” she trilled, refilling our nearly full coffees and spilling most of it on the table.

“I’ve…er, gotta run. I’ll be back to take your order in a moment.”

She scurried away, pulling her phone out of her apron pocket. I knew she’d text everyone in town and it would buy us some time.

I looked around the diner and saw dozens of sets of curious eyes on us. And I knew that the Havenport gossip mill would be buzzing about something other than cancer.

Sam rolled her eyes at me. “I admire your heroism, saving me from cancer talk, but do you know what you just started?”

I waved a hand. “Gets them off our backs. This way they are gossiping about something else and backing off on all the cancer questions.”

I certainly didn’t mind the entire town thinking that Sam and I were together.

“And I feel bad, winding Jackie up like that, but I’d rather people think I was dating Havenport’s most eligible bachelor than pity me for being sick.”

I sipped my coffee and smiled at her. “What can I say? I’m amazing.”

“So while I hate to admit it, that was a genius move. But we are not together like that.”

I scratched my beard and winked at her. “Can’t blame me for enjoying it. And if you want to be my girl, just say the word.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “I belong to no man.”

I casually opened my menu. “Noted. Now let me feed you.”

Unsurprisingly, Jackie’s strong coffee and massive pancakes helped bring Sam out of her funk.

“And it’s not just the mastectomy,” she said, gesturing with a piece of bacon.

“It’s all the other stuff that scares the shit out of me.

The side effects, the hair loss, the fact that I’ll probably go into early menopause.

I have cancer, and if that’s not a big enough mindfuck, I have to contend with the loss of my fertility too? ”

This was the first time I had ever heard Sam mention children. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them, it’s just not something we really ever talked about. “Do you want kids?” I asked softly, knowing this was dangerous territory.

Thankfully, she didn’t seem offended. She chewed her bacon thoughtfully. “I don’t think so? I’ve spent most of my life never wanting kids of my own. Then, a few years ago, I softened, and started to think if the opportunity arose I would go for it.”

I took a sip of coffee, unsure how to respond.

“But now I’m forty, so that ship has sort of sailed. And I’m okay with that. Or at least I was until recently. Now I’m just sort of mourning this loss of something I didn’t even think I wanted. It’s messed up.”

“It’s not messed up at all. Changing your mind is human and normal. It’s natural to have conflicting feelings about things.

“But my big regret? Not getting a dog. I really want a dog.”

That was a curveball I didn’t expect. “A dog? That’s easy. You can get a dog.”

“When I was little, I was so desperate for one. I used to ask Santa every single year. Then I became an adult and had a weird job and became so obsessed with saving the world I convinced myself it wasn’t possible.

“And at some point, I began to take pride in my lack of attachments. I was too busy and focused and passionate to ever settle down. But now, I just really want one. I’ve been lonely.

And although I’m not going to have children, I still want something to spoil and love and dote on.

Some sweet creature who will love me unconditionally. ”

My heart broke. She was lonely? I wanted to wrap my arms around her and fix everything. But I knew Sam too well; that would offend her and she’d push me away again.

“What is stopping you now?”

“I don’t know. Inertia, I think? Some allergy to putting down roots?”

I rolled my eyes. “You have roots, Sam. They just might look different than other people’s.”

“Fair point. But I mean it. I have been rootless for a long time. You should have seen my apartment in Geneva. When I took the job, I got set up in this short-term corporate place for six months. The idea was that I would stay there while looking for a place of my own.

“It’s terrible. All beige. Totally sterile, weird, mass-produced art on the wall, scratchy sheets, no pillows or photos or proof of life. It’s so inoffensive it’s actually offensive; does that make sense?”

I nodded, totally confounded that my passionate, energetic friend lived like that.

Sam had always been someone who jumped in with both feet.

She led clubs and organizations and volunteered.

She played the piano, edited the yearbook, and even went to bingo with her grandmother at the senior center.

She lived a big, messy life. And I guess I had assumed that her glamorous life of international travel and business development had been an extension of that.

I was happy for her, that she had been out living her dreams and pursuing her passions.

But I was starting to realize just how wrong I had been all these years.

“Making a home of my own, putting down roots, making choices, and building a life? It just all seemed like too much. I kept putting it off, like a dentist appointment that I was constantly rescheduling. And now I’m looking back and realizing just how pathetic I was.”

“Don’t say that. You’re not pathetic.”

“It’s fine. I’m in a place now where I can be really honest with myself. And I like it. I have no idea what the future will hold, but I now understand what I don’t want. And that’s half the battle.”

I raised my coffee cup to her. “Truth.”

She leaned forward on her elbows, “But what about you? You’re clearly destined to be a dad.”

I almost choked on my coffee. “Me? No. Definitely not.”

“But you’re a Rossi. Shouldn’t you have, like, at least four kids?”

“Very funny, and no. I love being an uncle. My nieces and nephews are amazing. I’ve seen the good, the bad, and the ugly. And I love it. I adore those kids, and watching them grow up is one of the great privileges of my life. But I decided a long time ago I didn’t want children of my own.”

“But you are a caretaker,” she interrupted. “It’s who you are.”

She wasn’t wrong. It was something I tried to simultaneously embrace and fight at times. I always wanted to solve everyone’s problems, smooth all the ruffled feathers, and fix things all the time. I struggled to draw boundaries, put myself first, and articulate my wants and needs at times.

Love was hard; partnership was hard. And God forbid you couldn’t make it work—where would that leave children?

I didn’t want to say it out loud, but I knew deep down I didn’t want kids because I had never met someone I wanted to have kids with.

A forever person, who you could share the joys and challenges of parenthood with.

Because I wasn’t sure that kind of forever love existed for me.

But that was too heavy for brunch.

“Trust me, it’s a fault. But I’ve given this a lot of thought. And when I close my eyes and think of my ideal life—what I want is a special person. Someone I can open myself up to fully. Be a partner in all the ways that matter. And I truly don’t need to have kids to do that.”

She bit her lip and nodded. “I get that.”

We sat awkwardly, sipping coffee until Jackie brought us the bill.

And I couldn’t help but marvel at how easily she got me to open up.

How quickly I articulated the thing I had been seeking for so long.

The more time I spent with Sam, the more I revealed, sharing secrets and questioning so many of my assumptions and choices.

She had a way of just tugging gently on the loose threads.

And if I didn’t watch out, she would completely unravel me.