Categories > Original > Drama1 Reviews
Samantha and Garrett have been together for as long as everyone can remember. If you asked their friends, they would describe them as "The Perfect Couple." Everything seems perfect. But everything ...
The door opened and her boyfriend walked in, following her up the stairs, calling after her. His tie was undone and his once tamed hair was tousled and messy from his constant mussing. Samantha cursed herself for not remembering to lock the door; but she ignored him and continued to stomp down the hall, her heels clacking noisily against the hardwood floors. She made it to her room, slamming the door behind her. Instead of the sound of the door shutting, she heard a muffled curse of pain. A momentary rush of apology coursed through her, but her fury returned the moment her boyfriend entered her room.
Samantha ignored him, walking to her closet, unzipping her dress. Garrett closed the bedroom door softly, sitting himself on the end of her bed. Samantha carried on her undressing, pretending not to notice Garrett's eyes following her.
“Sam, when are you going to talk to me?”
She ignored the question, letting her dress fall around her heel-clad feet before kicking it in the general direction of the hamper. Garrett sighed and ran his hands through his hair. Samantha pulled a tee-shirt over her torso.
“You want to know when I'm going to talk to you?” she asked, turning to face him. Garrett looked up into the eyes of his girlfriend. Shame coursed through his body at the sight of the hurt and anger in her eyes. “I'll talk to you when you tell me what the hell you were thinking; because dammit, Garrett, I'm lost!”
Garrett sighed and stood up, walking over to Samantha. Her emerald eyes held all of the embarrassment and pain he felt for her, and he hated seeing her like this. Standing in from of her, he looked into Sam's eyes, reaching up to touch her cheek. She smacked his hand away, pushing past him to sit at the vanity. He slumped his shoulders, trying to muster up adecent explanation, but he knew anything he said wasn't going to make her feel any better.
“Sammy, baby, please don't be mad at me.”
“Mad. Mad. Garrett, mad doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling. He tone was sharp. She pulled the clips from her hair, letting her red locks curl around her shoulders. “You kept something like that from me... God, I don't even know what to think!”
“Then don't think about it! Jesus, Sam. Are you going to hold that over my head forever? That's unfair.”
“Unfair,” her voice was flat, emotionless. “You think I'm being unfair? Okay, let's see: You keep this hideous, disgusting secret from me, for months, and I'm being unfair for being mad? You're fucked, you know that?”
Garrett sighed and ran a hand over his face. Samantha took her brush and started working through the knots in her hair, trying not to make a real-life connection to her current situation. Getting frustrated she threw the brush in the drawer, pulled her hair into a pony tail, and stood up, walking over to the bathroom. She was stopped short when he wrapped a hand around her wrist. She stopped and turned around, looking straight into his eyes with a blank stare. She could see how much her expressionless face hurt him, and it hurt her too, but he had hurt her much more than her lack of emotion would ever do to him. Blinking once, she pulled her wrist from his grasp and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
Without thinking, Samantha turned on the shower, turning it up to the highest temperature the faucet allowed. While letting the running water steam up the bathroom, she started removing her heels, carefully placing them in the cabinet under the sink, away from any steam or water. Methodically she removed her shirt and underwear and threw them in the hamper, not caring that her tee-shirt was newly clean, pulled from her closet not five minutes ago. Slowly she pulled the curtain back and a rush of steam blew lightly on her face. Her bangs and the little hairs on her neck were starting to stick to her neck from the humidity and sweat. She carefully stepped into the falling water, hissing lightly at the hot temperature; soon enough she got accustomed and let the water cascade down her back, letting the burning sensation wash away the tension in her shoulders.
She sat down, pulling her knees up to her chest and started crying, hoping that the sound of the running water was enough to mask her not-so-silent sobs. She sat there, rocking back and forth, until the water ran cold; once the icy water hit the back of her neck, she calmed herself down and stemmed the tears, and climbed out of the shower. Pulling her hair out of the ponytail, she shook out the water and pulled it back into a sloppy, wet bun. She wrapped herself in her floral-print, terrycloth bathrobe and looked at herself in the mirror. Little wisps of her bangs fell from her bun, curling just above her eyes, which looked puffy and red. Her nose was rosy and her breath shook.
Samantha opened the door, hoping that by the time she had finished with her shower Garrett would have been sick of waiting and left. Cracking it, she peeked into her room and didn't see him. With a sigh of relief she stepped into her room. She was glad he left―and she felt bad for feeling that way, but she pushed that aside. What he did was inexcusable and she shouldn't pity him. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she centered herself and walked to her nightstand, pulling out her favorite silk pajamas. Just as she pulled her shorts on, Garrett walked into her room, carrying a plate of Oreo's and a tall glass of milk. He looked as if he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, which was almost right with the chocolate cookies in his hand.
A blush crept along his neck. “I went to get you a snack. I guess I didn't hear the shower stop, I wanted to surprise you.”
“Why are you still here?”
The harsh tone made him wince. He stepped towards her, setting the plate and glass on her bedside table. She worked her way around him and walked downstairs―she just wasn't in the mood to deal with his apologetic gestures, they made her feel even worse for being so cold. Busying herself in the kitchen, she started looking through the cabinets for something to eat and slammed cabinet doors trying to make as much unnecessary noise as possible to keep her mind off Garrett. From the corner of her eye she saw his slumped body enter the dining room and seat himself at the head of the table. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her as she distracted herself.
Finally, the creeping feeling made her uncomfortable enough to slam one last cabinet and face him.
“Stop staring at me. Leave!” She pointed to the front door and stared hard.
He didn't say anything, he just continued to stare. She stared back, trying to convey that she had enough and she wanted him gone. She knew that he understood perfectly well, he just refused to listen to her. Which is why he surprised her when he stood up. The determined look in his eyes made her nervous. She turned around quickly, gripping the edge of the counter until her knuckles turned white. She could feel him standing behind her. His hand wrapped lightly around her wrist and she allowed him to turn her around, but she refused to look him in the eye; instead she chose to stare at his lips, which she immediately regretted.
He brought his hand from her wrist, lifting her chin so she would look him in the eye. She yanked her face from his hand and turned to walk away but he caught her wrist again and pulled her back to wrap his arms around her waist. She struggled against him, but he didn't let go. He held her firmly by the wrists and pushed her against the counter, standing in front of her enough to trap her. When Samantha looked him in the eye, she saw them burning with such intense love and heartbreak it took her breath away, and that moment of hesitation was all he needed. Garrett dipped his head, capturing her lips.
The kiss was sweet, not demanding like she had been expecting and it caught her off guard. She let herself give in, but she kept her hands on his arms, gripping them tightly to keep herself from crying again. He pulled away and placed his forehead on hers, breathing heavily. When he opened his eyes he scanned Samantha's face. Her cheeks were red and tears were pooled in her eyes. She was biting on her lip and he could see that she was struggling with herself. Finally she took adeep breath and let her hands fall by her side. Without a word, she turned away from him and walked upstairs.
She wasn't going to let Garrett get to her. As she walked upstairs she could vaguely hear Garrett's footsteps following. She paused at the door, waiting for him to hurry up the stairs. When he finally did, he paused at the top step and watched her. For just one moment they shared the same look. That knowing glance they often gave each other after fighting―but this time Garrett could see something familiar in her eye but had trouble placing it. Behind the sadness and anger was something he couldn't put his finger on, but the moment she blinked it was gone and she was back to looking at him with that blank stare.
“Samantha, can we please talk?” He took a step forward.
“I've done enough talking tonight.”
“No, you haven't! You sat silent all dinner, the entire ride here! And then you yelled at me. We talked, but we didn't talk.”
“What the hell does that mean? 'We didn't talk?'”
He sighed and stood in front of her. She was starting to get angry again and he didn't want her upset, he just wanted to talk to her and get her to understand.
“Sammy, can we just sit down and talk about this? I don't want to fight.” He was pleading, begging to get her to listen.
He gauged her reaction, watching her every move. He saw the the uncertainty flash briefly behind her steely gaze, he noticed the way she licked her lips in indecision, he noted how she swallowed hard and blinked several times, and finally he watched, the tell-tale sign of her defeat, as she brushed her bangs from her hair and sighed. She stepped aside and opened the door, allowing him access into her room. He tried to suppress the triumph, locking it away so she couldn't see it in his eyes.
He crossed her room and sat on the edge of the bed, watching her expectantly. She quietly closed the door and grabbed her thin house robe off the back of the door and slip it on, tying it in a neat bow at her waist. When she finished she crossed her arms and gave him alook, the one that he understood clearly. He shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat, and tried to come up with a decent explanation for what happened at dinner.
“Okay, well...” he paused, trying to figure out how to explain it to her without getting her too upset, but he was too late to respond.
“Well, what?” she snapped.
“Well, I hope you know nothing ever happened between us.” She snorted, obviously not believing him. Her reaction triggered a flame of anger, but he doused it quickly. He didn't want to cause a fight. “I'm serious, Sam. I don't know why you don't believe me. I've never given you a reason not to.”
“Not until recently,” she muttered. Samantha was acting childish and she knew it. She watched as he clenched his jaw, trying not to get angry.
“Sam, stop it.” He waited until she sat down at her desk before continuing. “Nothing happened, I swear. We ran into each other at the store a few months ago and decided to go out for lunch just to catch up. She'd text me every now and then after that just to hang out.” He saw the disbelief in her eyes. “And we always went somewhere public. I refused to go to her house, because I knew you wouldn't ever let me hear the end of it. And―”
“You're damn right I wouldn't. And I don't know what makes you think I won't now! I mean, Jesus Garrett! You're sneaking around behind my back with an ex of yours and you expect me to believe that 'nothing ever happened' between you two? You must think I'm seriously ill or something.”
Now Garrett was starting to get angry. “Sam, I don't know why you don't believe me! It just doesn't make sense to me. So I didn't tell you I was going to lunch every once in a while with someone I can only see now as just a friend―”
“Just a friend... right.”
“Dammit, Sam! Let me finish! The moment you hear something you don't like you just get upset and not let me try and help you understand! Can you just shut up for five minutes and let me talk!” He stood up from the bed, clenching and un-clenching his fists repeatedly to calm himself down, but it wasn't working. “Never, in the last two years we've been together, have I ever given you a reason to doubt me, to not believe me. But I make one little mistake and you just blow up. It's completely unfair and you need to hear me out so I can help you understand!”
“Oh, I don't understand? I'm stupid now?” Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Samantha, don't put words in my mouth.”
“Well what am I supposed to think, huh! You've been going behind my back for months, seeing her and you wouldn't tell me! Why wouldn't you tell me that? Why? Because I'm such a fragile, idiotic moron who wouldn't understand why you would sneak around!” She was screaming now, tears falling freely down her face.
“You want to know why I didn't tell you? Because I knew this is exactly how you would act! You'd try and twist my words, put them in my mouth and use them against me! Nothing happened, Sam, I need you to believe that. And you know why nothing happened? Because I love you! You, not her! And I know that sneaking around doesn't exactly show that, but it's true!”
Wiping tears from her eyes, she shook her head. “If you love me, you would have told me.” Her voice lost all it's power and she spoke barely above a whisper. Through her clouded eyes she saw the shock and hurt from her statement flash across his face. She felt bad, but she truly felt that way. All she could think was if he didn't tell her and he had to sneak around, he didn't love her. And just thinking it broke her heart. “In all honesty―in God's honest truth―why didn't you tell me you were seeing her?”
“Because, I knew you would overreact,” he said lightly. He saw the uncertainty flash through her tears. He sighed and carefully walked over to where she was standing. When she didn't move away, he placed a finger under her chin and looked her straight in the eye.“Samantha, I love you. I don't want you to be mad at me for this. Iunderstand everything I did seems to be really bad in your eyes, but I promise you, with ever fiber of my being, that I have been 100 percent faithful.” He paused for a moment, trying to convey the truth through one look; she still didn't look convinced. “And I specifically didn't tell you because I didn't want this to happen. I didn't want to fight, and there's no way in hell anyone like her could compare to you; especially her. And if you don't want to believe me, then fine, I'll let you go. But just know that you're my girl, and that's how it's always been and that's how it will always be.”
Samantha looked at Garrett, trying hard to find any sway of thought in his eyes, anything that would give her a reason to kick him out. The only thing she saw when she looked at him was his pain and honesty of everything he just told her. But there was some part of her that wanted to believe he was lying, that he was just saying it to see if she would forgive him only to have him laugh at her and dump her for the other girl. She knew that was irrational.
She turned around and sat on the bed. “Please, just go.” Her voice was so small, it was barely a whisper. She didn't look at him, only put her head in her hands and backed up against the headboard. She heard the soft padding of his feet across the carpet and her door open and close. When she heard him hit the squeaky stair outside her bedroom, Samantha let herself cry. She honestly didn't know why she was crying. Everything he told her felt honest and true to her very core, but she couldn't bring herself to let him stay. She wasn't quiet with her sobbing, and she body shook so much that she had to squeeze her pillow close to her body.
Finally, after several hours, she fell asleep. When she woke up, the sun was shining through the crack in her blinds. Her face felt stiff and eyelids heavy from crying. Samantha lifted herself from the bed and walked to the bathroom, washing her face, trying to feel fresh again. But when she looked in the mirror, all she saw was a broken girl. She retied her hair and tightened her robe. As she walked out of her bathroom, her stomach growled. She hadn't eaten anything since the afternoon before, seeing as she was too disgusted at dinner to eat. She shook her head, forcing herself not to think about the last night. She quickly made herself a bowl of Honeycomb and sat on the counter, trying not to inhale the cereal.
When she finished she threw the bowl in the sink and started to walk upstairs; a light snore from the living room stopped her. She stood still, one foot on the step the other tentatively raised in the air. She listened carefully, waiting for another noise. She heard it; the soft snoring. Carefully and quietly she turned around, tiptoeing across the foyer. When she reached the living room, she peeked around the side of the wall, peering into room. She saw his feet hanging off the edge of the sofa, a hand dropped to the floor and his tousled hair sticking out from the floral pillow. She sighed and walked across the room, sitting on the wooden coffee table.
For a few moments she watched him sleep, thinking how innocent and happy he looked sleeping; such a contrast from the angry boyfriend she saw the night before. She carefully reached out a hand and moved the pillow off from his face. He still had his dress shirt on, the top buttons undone. Her hands brushed over the shirt and he moved; she froze, her hand hovering over his chest. When she was sure he was asleep again, she ran her hand across his face, running her thumb over his lips. He let out a soft breath.
“I love you.”
She leaned in and whispered it, brushing her lips against his forehead. Samantha ran her hand down his cheek once more and stood up, walking back to the stairs. When she reached the entryway, stopped and turned around. From where she stood, watching him sleep, she could pretend that it was just another night of him sleeping over. That today was just another day and that he would wake up in a few minutes and smile his lazy smile and kiss her softly. That last night was all just abad dream. But she knew they were just pretend. She dropped her hand from the wall and walked upstairs, wondering how anything would ever be the same.