“Course not. Sorry if I was too pushy.”

“It’s fine. Anyway.”

“Yeah.”

Good God, was there anything more awkward than two male acquaintances trying to end a phone call? Finally Mike just said, “Bye,” and hung up.

He rubbed his face, feeling like an asshole, and pushed down the toaster lever. He should’ve just let Sam deal with that – she’d have told Bern what happened, and he would have been sympathetic and polite, and she definitely would not have given their special guest star a poke in the eye just for doing his fucking job as a pushy third.

“This is why you’re not in PR,” Mike muttered, then turned at the sound of the front door opening. “Sam?”

“Yeah, hi. I was surprised to see your car. Welcome back. You must have hit the road at —” She’d been distracted, toeing away her sneakers, and Mike’s fierce hug cut her off. She laughed and rubbed his back. “Hi.”

“Hi, Sami.” He let her go. “How are you?”

She shrugged, hair damp and curly at her sweaty temples. “Better after a run, I think. But stinky.”

The smell of bread arrived with the distant sound of the toaster releasing. “You hungry?” he asked her.

“No. I think I’ll take a bath. And maybe after, we could talk…?” Her expression changed, tiredness giving way to worry.

“Of course. Whatever you need, I’m on it. And I’m making dinner.”

She smiled and rubbed his arm. “That’s sweet, but you don’t need to. I could use a few distractions.”

“Well, we can fight about it after your bath. Go do your thing.”

She turned away to head upstairs, and Mike could tell her energy was tapped. She’d had just enough for that hug and welcome home, but now the grief had descended once more. He wondered if he ought to convince her to take the day off work tomorrow, or if the routine would do her good.

He ate his toast and listened as the water ran upstairs, then went quiet. He gave her a good fifteen minutes’ uninterrupted soak before heading up with a cup of coffee for her.

He rapped on the bathroom door. “Brought you a present.”

“Come on in.”

Mike pushed in the door, finding her up to her neck and shoulders in good-smelling water. What that smell was, he didn’t know – he only knew it came in crystal form, in a glass jar with silver Farsi writing on the label. She’d kept the lights off and lit a couple of candles at the edge of the counter.

“Wine would fit the scene better, but here you go.” He set the cup on the rim.

“Oh, thank you.”

He lowered the toilet lid and took a seat. Even with everything that was going on, it was hard to look at her – naked, with her long hair wet – and not feel lust stir. He shoved it deep inside his body and leaned in, elbows on his knees. “Anything you need or want today, I’m at your service.”

“You’re sweet.” She didn’t meet his eyes, her gaze lost somewhere on the surface of the water.

“That’s my job.”

“No, it’s not. Your job requires zero sweetness whatsoever.” She met his eyes, smiling faintly. Weakly.

“Goddamn it, I hate seeing you so torn up.”

She sank a little deeper in the water, then sat up suddenly, wrapping her arms around her knees. The water clung to her skin and hair, sparkling in the low light. She met his eyes again, squarely this time.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Of course.”

“Not about my cousin. About something that happened last night, after I got the news.”

Mike frowned, confused by her tone. She didn’t sound sad. She sounded nervous.

“What?”

“I texted Bern to cancel, but he didn’t get it in time. He showed up a little early, while I was still processing the news.”

“Okay…” Mike’s gut felt sour and raw, and he tried to remember what that text had said. I slept like shit. What’s going on over there? “Tell me, Sam.”

“At first, we just hung out. I told him he could go, but he was really nice about it. We talked, like friends, and watched a movie. Mostly talked. It was a nice distraction. But then it all sort of… changed.”

“Changed? What do you mean? You tell me if he mistreated you, Samira.” And so help me I will wring the life from his body.

“Things got… Things heated up.” She looked to her knees. “I’d calmed down, and I felt like maybe if we fucked around, it would be a nice escape. It’s hard to describe how I went from feeling so sad to needing that so much, but it just sort of happened.”

He swallowed, throat tight. “Okay.”

“I got the laptop out so we could tape it for you. I… I wanted to kiss him, really badly. I’m not even sure why… maybe just to feel something other than awful, I guess. But it didn’t seem right if you weren’t able to see it, you know?”

Mike nodded, confused now.

“So I hit RECORD and we…”

A hard heat rose inside him, utterly divorced from sexual excitement. She’d slept with someone last night and not told him about it. “And you taped it?”

“Yeah. But it…” A sob pinched her shoulder blades together, the water echoing a quiver in her body.

“Sam, what? Did he cross a line?”

She met his eyes, and her own were shining with tears. “No. I think I did.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was different. It didn’t feel like me and him, and you watching. It felt like…”

Mike went cold. “It felt like just you and him,” he finished.

She nodded, pain written in her brow and lips and the set of her jaw. “It did. It felt like just me and him.”

“How was it different from before?”

“I tried to keep it dirty, you know – talk for the camera, remember who it was all for. But it was tender. It felt like what I needed in the moment. Then it was over, and I said, I can’t show Mike that. I knew the second we finished that I fucked it up. I fucked it up so bad,” she said, voice breaking.

Mike didn’t reply for a half minute or more, gone from hot to cold to numb, now. “Do you have feelings for him? Real feelings?”

When Sam didn’t reply right away, panic broke through the wall, driving Mike out of the safety of his stupor.

“Sam?”

“I don’t know.” Or did she? He had to wonder, and perhaps the truth was part of what had her so spooked.

“Jesus…” He dropped his head, rubbed his temples.

“I do know I’d never, ever want to leave you, to be with him. But I do feel something. Something more than just the physical things I was supposed to.”

“What about him? Does he have feelings for you?”

“I don’t know.”

Mike met her eyes, angry.

“I don’t know, honestly. I’m not protecting him. He cares about me, as a person, I think. But I don’t know what he thinks about everything – if he wishes we were something more.”

“I want to watch the tape.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

“I want to watch it. I want to see what it is that has you so torn up.”

“I deleted it. I don’t want anyone to watch it. Ever.”

“Did you empty the trash?”

Sam’s face fell, and Mike stood.

“I won’t know what to feel until I see it,” he told her as he turned toward the door.

The sound of rushing water told him she’d stood. “Mike, please.”

“I have a right to watch it. You knew that last night when you decided to tape it in the first place.” He left the bathroom door wide open and stalked through the bedroom, then downstairs, looking for her computer and finally finding it on a bookshelf. He opened it and typed in her password. They kept nothing from each other.

Nothing until last night.

He arranged the items in the trash can by type and found it – a video file with a time stamp from just after nine p.m. Sam appeared in the entryway, hugging her robe tightly around her body.

“I want to watch it alone,” he told her.

She nodded, wet hair dripping on the hardwood floor, then turned and let him be. He waited until he heard the floorboard over his head squeak, then opened the file.