Nocere

by Max Ellendale

  "C'mon, my sweet," she whispered in my ear and we stood together, her arm around my middle while I leaned into her.

  "Bye, Anita. Thank you for…" I paused to find the right words. "Being human."

  Anita's expression lifted when she smiled suddenly, as if she understood on a deeper level what I wanted to convey. "See you next week, Rosie."

  "See you." I waved, and headed out with the usual lightness that therapy brought me. However, today, it wasn't just because of the work I'd done, but more because of the connection we all made in our small world.

  Chapter Sixteen

  "I really liked meeting Marita today," I told Sam while setting my overnight bag down beside her bed. "Despite the strange situation."

  "Marita was my only friend for a long time. We don't see each other much," she admitted after pulling her sweater over her head. "I know I asked you ten times on the ride home, but are you really okay?"

  "Yeah. I am." I nodded then dropped down to sit on the edge of the bed.

  "Not just about the situation with Anita, but in general. Are you okay, Rosie?"

  I nodded again, then unfurled my fingers to show her the medication bottle in my palm. "At night," I told her and she lifted the bottle to inspect it.

  "Good." She kissed my cheek before handing it back to me. "With anxiety medicine, maybe you'll actually sleep."

  "You don't sleep either."

  "I sleep in short bursts. 'Tis the life of a doctor, baby." She sat down beside me, her hands tucked between her knees. We sat quietly for a moment, before I reached over to give her jean-clad thigh a squeeze.

  "Don't anesthetize your heart, Sam. Because I love what it's given me so far," I confessed, my voice just above a whisper.

  "I'm trying not to. For you. And with you." She drew in a deep breath after, and I turned my hand over in her lap. She placed hers in mine and I gave her a squeeze.

  "I recognize that you're trying. I can feel how you feel about me." I met her gaze and she held mine as if absorbing every word that tumbled from my lips. "When you're ready, I hope that you'll tell me some day."

  She blinked away the thick tears that leapt from her lashes when she nodded.

  "I'm still going to tell you every day that I love you." I brought her hand to my lips, and spoke against her flesh. "Every day I'll say it. Over and over until you're able to accept it inside of you so deeply that you can't keep out how it makes you feel to hear it."

  Her breath rattled when she exhaled and she watched me, as if hanging on every syllable and expression. I thought about the Sam that I met at Ainsley's house, and the one who took me on a hike. The cocky confidence that she wore crumbled away over the past few weeks in time with my worry for her.

  "I love you, Sam." I pointed at my mouth and her gaze followed. "I love you and you deserve to be loved." The latter part of my confession struck an echo of Rebecca's voice when she told me the same. Every day for nearly twenty years. "You deserve happiness."

  "You make me happy," she croaked, her voice cutting out in the end.

  "You make me happy, too." I kissed her hand then turned to cup her face.

  Without much warning, she grabbed me around the middle and lifted me into her lap. I straddled her thighs, and she kept me in the kiss while her hands caressed my back. Our connection intensified and she gripped my rear, pressing me to her before unfastening the buttons down the center of my dress. I cupped her breasts, toying with her piercings how she liked, with gentle twists and tugs that made her belly flip-flop against me.

  We melted into the bed sheets, a mess of kisses and touches of a tender quality that we never shared before. Sam's tongue probed my mouth after she pulled my dress over my head and tossed it aside. Her hand slid down my center, inching behind my panties until she cupped my burning pussy in her assured palm. I mirrored her gesture, popping the button of her jeans to reach behind them. She tensed, her abs hardening against me as I found the firm metal of her piercing. Her mouth moved slower, until she ended our kiss to brush her lips against mine. Her movement against my core paused and I felt her tumbling away.

  "Together," I whispered, nipping at her while I rubbed her in easy circles.

  "Rosie," she said, her voice soft. "Are you sure?"

  "I am. Are you?" I brushed my thumb over her lips.

  "No," she whispered, but kissed my thumb.

  "We can stop, honey…"

  "No." Sam pressed her forehead to mine, her hot breath against my lips while she slipped two fingers inside me.

  A moan escaped me and I lifted my chin to claim her mouth. The fire returned to her as our tongues danced together. I knew part of her movements aimed to distract me, but I didn't let it. I kept up the slow, gentle circles around her clit and it served to keep her unlocked.

  We tumbled into a round of gentler lovemaking, with our bodies colliding and rolling against each other in the faintest manner. Her luscious movements, sweet lips, and soaked center urged me up the peak of pleasure and the way her legs trembled against me, I knew I'd brought her with me. Sam's pelvis pressed toward my hand and she nipped my lip as she came, her eyes closed and head tilted back. I lost myself at the same time, my lips against the curve of her neck as I let out a soft moan.

  When we calmed, both of us a mess of breathlessness, we retreated from each other's centers to embrace. I made to urge her to rest her head on my chest, but she wouldn't. Instead, she rolled onto her back and guided me to rest the same way we always did—my head on her shoulder and hand between her breasts. This seemed to settle her, and she buried her fingers in my hair. I closed my eyes and she pressed her lips to my forehead. Her doting continued, and she curled up against me, her knees bent and tangled with mine.

  We must've stayed like that for an hour, until the rumble of thunder drew our attention to the window. Sam started and I rubbed her naked stomach in soft circles. In the darkness, the harbor lights illuminated the bedroom, casting long shadows on the walls. Rain pummeled the balcony, and the wind forced some heavy drops against the windows. I returned my focus to her and noticed the way her facial features smoothed to softness. The tension left her for a moment, lending light to the sharp curves of her beautiful face. I loved her so much, and part of that scared me. Sam pulled me out of my tiny, controlled existence. Out of a solitary life where I spent my time obsessed with safety and comfort, keeping things small and as uncomplicated as possible. Now, I didn't mind complicated as much, and navigating the labyrinthine nature of emotions with her seemed more valuable than anything I'd ever experienced. Although I knew she cared about me, and it felt like she loved me, I wondered if she felt the same way about everything else.

  "My sweet," she whispered, a small smile playing on her lips. "You're so pretty." Her declaration seemed to come from nowhere and it made my cheeks warm under the compliment. "Remember when we were on that hike together and I had to wrestle with you about eating half of my sandwich?"

  I chuckled, nodding with it. "I do."

  "You were so scared to accept it. Then you just…" Her smile broadened, her gaze shimmering with the memory. "Plucked some bread off and fed it to those birds. They came over to you like you were Snow White dancing in the woods. Like they knew they could trust you."

  "Then I got angry and spoiled everything," I said, biting my lip for a second. "Because you liked me."

  "I did like you. At first because you were cute and so gentle. Then because underneath that, you have this fiery spark." She met my gaze and stroked my cheek. "The way you told us off. Asserted yourself. And how, despite the way the world treated you, how tiny you are, and delicate at times, when it matters to you, you speak up." She drew in a deep breath. "It was the first thing that made me think I could trust you. Because people with fire like that don't lie."

  "I don't lie… Unless it's like keeping a surprise birthday party a secret or something."

  "I know. And you care about people so much. Rebecca and your family. Alex. Ainsley and Jordan. And they care about you jus
t as much."

  "People care about you, too, Sam. Me and Stella. Alice, Ainsley. Marita." I stroked the space between her breasts while she listened to me. "Sometimes you keep them at arm’s length because being cared about scares you."

  She didn't say anything to that, and I noticed that her gut tightened against my arm. Her lips faded to a thin line as she held down whatever emotion my declaration caused. I let her have the silence while we listened to the rain.

  The temperature in the room dropped as the night wore on and finally, Sam drew in a soft breath before she said, "Everything I've ever cared about left me."

  I met her gaze again, my brow furrowed as I listened.

  "My ex-husband. Our mutual married friends. Then my father died. My family. My mother. My religion." She blinked away the tears that dampened her cheeks. "My sense of safety." Her chest lifted with slow, heavy breaths as she stared at the ceiling. "Sometimes, Rosie, I close my eyes at night and I fantasize about what it would've been like if I could've fought back. If I wasn't wearing that scarf that they weaponized as much as the guns they pressed to my body. Sometimes I think about never having escaped that alley and aching for the gun to go off against my head. That it would've been better if I didn't survive."

  Her words broke my heart with their flagrant honesty and absolute pain. I shared many of those thoughts over the years, but couldn't imagine my life without having the love of my foster family and friends.

  "And then I confided in Marita. She stood by me, helped me, listened to me. Became my only friend. But I just couldn't stay still. I had to leave her before she left me, like everyone and everything else. So I started changing hospitals and jobs and places to live. I did a lot of rotations at U.W. and then met Stella. She's an amazing surgeon and a gifted physician. She was everything I wanted to be. We worked together to save Alice when I barely even knew her." She paused, and a small smile brightened her sadness. I brushed the tears from her cheeks, and kissed her chin. "And her gratitude for the help. The way she trusted me so easily. And whenever I was on rotation at her hospital, we would spend a little time together. Over the years, I looked forward to it. Knowing she had the life she did, gave me some sort of sense of something. I don't know. That not everything was bad."

  "Sounds a little bit like hope, honey," I said, and she ran her fingers through my hair.

  "Yeah. Maybe." She sniffled, and met my gaze again. "I waited for her to stop talking to me. Stop seeking me out. Stop wanting to share meal breaks together. It went on for years until she planted the seed for me to move to Seattle. That she could get me a full-time position at U.W. The idea of staying still…" She shook her head. "I couldn't do it. I just...I couldn't."

  "Why did you decide to finally stay?"

  "I got tired. I'm so tired." She covered her face with her hands. "My mother is getting older. Eventually I will have to take care of her. She moved from Spokane to be closer to her family here. My uncles. Cousins. Her Muslim friends. She had a community in Spokane but after the terror attack, a lot of them left. So she came here."

  "Do you see any of them?"

  "No."

  "Tell me why?"

  She laughed, though not out of humor. "My mother's family is all from Syria or Iran. Do you know what they do to gay people there?"

  I shook my head, biting my bottom lip when a surge of fear struck me. "Not specifics."

  "Don't ever look it up." She placed her palm against my cheek and the gesture calmed me. "Some of her family still feel that way. Especially the older generation, and most of them are in their eighties."

  "I'm sorry, Sam. That you have to face that."

  "Most of them don't know that I'm gay. I stay away from them." She choked on her breath and I dabbed at her cheeks again. "I stay away from everyone."

  "Not me…" I tapped my finger against her lip.

  "Never you…" She kissed my finger. "Rosie, part of me waits for you to walk away from me, too. You have your own life. Your own pain."

  "Samirah." I leaned up on my elbows so that I could look at her properly. "I've lived my entire life just trying to manage myself. An anxious mess that the world tossed aside save for Rebecca. On some days, if it wasn't for her bringing me groceries or driving me to work, I wouldn't have eaten or left the house. Then one day this beautiful, bold, sexy woman waltzes into my life and makes me pay attention. First, she made me angry because I thought she wanted something from me when I had nothing to give. Then she pursued me. You chased me, in a good way. You made me feel wanted and desired. And I know that it might sound unhealthy or just, I don't know, twisted, but knowing that you have your own struggles made me feel like we both shared each other's burdens. Like you help me carry a little of mine and I help you carry a little of yours. I found myself able to do more, less anxious, and caring more. Everything in my life has seemed lighter and brighter with you in it."

  She choked on a sobbed and brought both hands up to cover her face when she cried. I kissed her elbows and forearms over and over until she released herself to touch me again. Whatever I said, whatever proclamation hit home for her, it was like I sent a bomb-wielding arrow into the walls of her dam. I hugged her and she squeezed me to her as we melted together in a puddle of soggy emotions.

  "One day, Sam, you're going to open your eyes and see that none of us are walking away from you." I kissed her cheek while holding her. "That all of us are reaching for you."

  Her arms trembled around me and I kissed each of her closed eyes before brushing my thumb over her lips. She met my gaze, and offered me the faintest nod.

  "Allowing yourself to love someone isn't going to harm them. Even if it's not forever. Even if it's your friends. Love isn't harmful."

  "How do you know that?" she asked, her voice raspy.

  "It hasn't gone wrong for me yet." I smiled at her and she let out a soft laugh.

  "Sam?" A panicked voice called out from the living room. I sat up and Sam's brow furrowed. "Sam?" Stella's call echoed in the hallway and hurried feet followed. She burst into the bedroom, her eyes wide with worry, as she gripped the center of her scrub top when she let out a sigh of relief.

  "What's wrong?" Sam sat up while I pulled the sheet around my shoulders. She clicked on the bedside lamp and Stella hurried into the room.

  "I was worried. Neither of you answered me." Stella didn't seem to notice or care that both of us wore nothing from the waist up. She swooped in beside the bed and dropped her hand on the top of Sam's head. Her concern wrinkled her brow and she let out a few slow breaths. "Alice knocked on the door earlier when I asked her to, but I had your key with me."

  "I'm fine. We're fine." Sam gazed up at her, confusion lacing her expression. "What's the matter?"

  "Nothing. I was just worried about you." Stella smoothed Sam's hair in an almost-maternal manner before releasing her.

  "I've never known you to be dramatic, Stell." Sam gestured to the space in front of her and I noticed that she didn't seem to care that Stella saw her topless.

  Stella sat on the bed beside us, and when she calmed down, she started when she glanced between us, as if finally noticing that we weren't exactly adorning our Sunday best.

  "Are you admiring my piercings?" Sam laughed at her and Stella's face reddened even in the dim light.

  "I'm interrupting," she said, her eyes widening.

  "Not much." A grin curved Sam's lips. "Wanna join us? Rosie won't mind." Sam nudged me and I burst out laughing.

  "Go get Alice. We like quartets," I teased with Sam's urging.

  "Oh my God." Stella laughed, but shot up standing. "Stop that."

  Sam cracked up and Stella smacked her jean-clad knee. "Aw, Stell. We're just teasing you."

  "Here I am freaking out over your safety and you're teasing me." Stella huffed and puffed, though she smiled through it. "Double jerks. And put a shirt on, Samirah."

  "No way. You burst into my bedroom, expect to see tits. Sometimes in upwards of ten."

  "Oh my God. Sam!" Stella's eye
s widened again and she met my gaze. "Is she kidding?"

  "Yes." I snickered. "We max out at eight."

  "Rosie!" Stella squealed. "I'm leaving. It's clear my worry was unfounded."

  "Not entirely, but we're okay," I said through a chuckle. We calmed down and Sam leaned back against the pillows while I tucked myself close to her, keeping the blanket wrapped around me.

  Stella returned to sitting beside Sam's legs, and her expression fell to seriousness when she appeared to get a good look at Sam. Her puffy eyes and sad expression acted as a dead giveaway for our current emotional state. Stella gave Sam's forearm a squeeze. "Are you both really okay?"

  I nodded, but Sam said, "It's been a rough few days."

  "Neither of you have answered your phones or texts today," she said, glancing between us.

  "Why are you so worried, Stella? What's the difference between now and before?" Sam's question held an edge to it now.

  "Sami, you dropped a bomb on me in the middle of a dinner party and that timing told me that you're in pain. Someone I care about told me they'd been gravely hurt and you haven't talked to me since. Of course I'm going to worry. Of course I am." Stella's passion and intensity only added to Sam's emotional state. She stared at Stella, her eyes fixed and lips pursed. "I care about you."

  "Did you tell anyone?" pressed Sam.

  "No, Sami. But Alice knows I'm worried about you and it upset her a little."

  "I don't want you to tell anyone." Sam covered her face briefly before dropping her hands.

  "I won't. I promised you that." Stella gripped Sam's hand. "Now answer me for real. Are you okay?"

  "I don't know. I'm overwhelmed." In Stella's presence, Sam presented somewhat frozen, but she draped her arm around me. "So is Rosie."

  "Ainsley told me about the parole hearing. Do you know the outcome yet?" Stella met my gaze and I shook my head.

  "Not yet. Sometime this week," I said, and the dread of it pitted in my stomach. I'd managed to distract myself from thinking about it until then.