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The evening wasn’t really big and planned. They’d gone out, nothing particularly special. Dinner, a drink, walking around for a while until neither of them really felt like going home yet. Still, somehow they had ended up at his apartment.
It wasn’t the first time she was there.
She had been there plenty of times over the past month. They had eaten here, watched movies, talked until one of them had to leave for work. She had the key and had used it a few times by now.
But she never stayed overnight.
At least, not yet.
They were sitting on the couch with some old movie playing on the TV. Neither of them was really watching anymore.
Samira had slowly migrated closer to him over the course of the evening. At some point, she had ended up against his shoulder. Then, without either of them really acknowledging it, she’d shifted again until she was lying partly against him, until she was stretching out next to him and her head rested on his thigh.
Jack hadn’t minded.
He’d actually barely noticed the change.
They had been talking about something. He couldn’t even remember what anymore. And at some point, he didn’t get answers anymore.
He looked down.
Samira’s eyes were closed.
He frowned slightly. “Samira?”
Nothing.
He waited a second. “Hey.”
Still nothing.
She was asleep.
He looked at his watch. 12:47 am.
For a moment, he considered waking her. He should probably wake her up.
She lived thirty minutes away on foot. It wasn’t an unreasonable distance during the day, but at almost one in the morning, he wasn’t particularly comfortable with the idea of her walking that way.
On the other hand, she was probably exhausted. So he didn’t wake her.
Instead, he turned the TV down and leaned back against the couch.
He kept on hand resting lightly against her shoulder, mostly so she wouldn’t slip off his lap. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Maybe twenty minutes. Maybe forty.
Eventually, though, the position started to become uncomfortable. The weight against his lap had been fine at first, but after sitting like that for so long, it started to ache.
Jack shifted carefully.
Samira moved with him, making a small sound in her sleep.
He stopped immediately. “Sorry.”
She didn’t wake up.
So he tried to adjust himself again.
That still didn’t help much.
Eventually, he decided to reach for the edge of the couch and carefully move his body enough to relieve the pressure.
Samira stirred. Her eyebrows pulled together. “Hm?”
“Sorry.”
Her eyes opened slowly. For a few seconds, she just stared up at him. Then she blinked. “What time is it?”
“Almost one.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh shit.” She pushed herself upright. “I fell asleep.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“I know.”
She looked almost embarrassed as she rubbed her face. “I should go home.”
Jack looked at her, lifting his eyebrow. “It’s late.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I know.” He glanced toward the window. The street outside was mostly dark, the occasional headlights passing between the buildings. “But I don’t want you walking home alone.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I know.”
She gave him a look, almost as if she was waiting for him to argue.
“I mean it,” he said. “I know you can handle yourself.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
He looked outside the window again. “The problem is that it’s almost one in the morning and you’d be walking thirty minutes home alone.”
“I’ve walked home alone before.”
“I’m sure you have.”
“Jack.”
“Samira, I’m not saying that you can’t do it.” She went quiet as he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I know you’re strong. I know you can take care of yourself. That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“It’s thirty minutes.”
He sighed. And God did he know there wasn’t much of a point to argue with her about it. He was too tired for it and knew it was to no avail. “I’ll walk you home.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
“I can get an Uber.”
“You can.”
“Or I can walk.”
“You can do that too.”
“I’ll text you when I’m home. And if I don’t text you, you can call the police.” She smiled, clearly joking.
Jack didn’t. His expression remained completely serious. “That’s not funny.”
“I was kidding.”
“I’ll walk you home.” He nodded toward the kitchen where two empty beer bottles were standing on the counter, just like one half-empty bottle was on the coffee table. “I had two and a half beers, so I’m not driving. But I can walk.”
“You’d really walk all the way to my apartment and then all the way back?”
“Yeah.”
“At one in the morning?”
“Yeah.”
She stared at him. “You really don’t like this.”
“No.” There was not a single bit of hesitation in his voice. “I know you can do it, Samira. That’s not what I’m worried about.”
She looked at her bag. “Then what are you worried about?”
He looked at her for a moment in silence. “Something happening to you.”
She didn’t answer so he continued, softer. “And me sitting here knowing you’re walking home alone isn’t going to make me feel better just because I know you’re capable of handling yourself.”
She looked back at him. “I’ll text you. And I’ll call if something happens. So you don’t have to worry.”
He gave her a tired little smile. “That’s not how worrying works…”
Jack knew she could walk home. That wasn’t the point. He’d seen too many people come into the ER after saying the exact same thing.
I’ll be fine.
Drunk drivers who were sure they were sober enough to drive. Women who walked home alone and hadn’t made it without something happening to them. People who thought the worst thing that could happen was they would be a little tired the next morning.
He wasn’t thinking Samira couldn’t take care of herself. He knew she could. But he really didn’t want to spend the next thirty minutes wondering whether she would make it home safely.
“You can walk. But I’ll walk with you. You can stay, I wouldn’t mind. But you won’t wander around in the darkness alone.”
There was a silence between them that almost worried him. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. He didn’t want to fight because of this and he surely didn’t want to sound controlling. He just worried.
“You know what?”
“What?”
“If you keep standing there trying to decide whether you should walk home, call an Uber, let me walk you or stay here…” He gestured toward the bedroom. “Then stay.”
She blinked. “That’s not very subtle.”
“I’m tired. And I really don’t want you walking home alone. As I said, I can’t drive you, but I would walk with you. But… stay…”
She hesitated for a while. “I don’t have anything here.”
“You don’t need much.”
“I don’t have clothes.”
“I’ll give you something.”
“And I don’t have a toothbrush.
“There’s a new one under my sink.”
“You have a spare toothbrush?”
He laughed tiredly. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
Jack shrugged. “Why not? Is that strange? It’s there so I wouldn’t forget to change mine regularly. So, take it. I can buy a new one. C’mon. I’ll get you what you need.” He slowly lifted himself from the couch, holding himself up with one hand on the sofa as he grabbed a crutch that was leaned against the couch.
Jack had lived with his prosthesis for years. Long enough that most of it had become routine. He knew exactly how to move around his apartment, how to navigate the small spaces and when to use the crutches instead of putting the prosthesis back on.
He still hated using the crutches inside his own.
Not because he couldn’t handle them. He could.
They were simply exhausting in a way he didn’t need when all he wanted was to get from the couch to the bedroom.
So he used them when he had to. He knew he needed some rest and let his skin breathe.
Samira got somewhat used to it. She never had a partner with an amputation and it took her some time to learn when to offer help and when not. She always had to remind herself how long he lived like this and that he found his own strategies.
“You want help?”
“No, it’s fine.” She stepped closer anyway but took a step away when she saw how Jack positioned himself and pushed himself upright with the crutches.
Others at work probably wouldn’t believe it. Some didn’t even know that he was an amputee. But she never talked about it. Not that they told anyone that they were dating anyway.
“You know, you could’ve just told me that you were getting uncomfortable.”
“I was fine.”
“You were trying to rearrange yourself without waking me up.”
“I didn’t want to wake you up.”
Her expression softened. “Oh.”
He nodded towards the bedroom. “Come on.”
Jack led her into his bedroom where he took a shirt and sweatpants and gave them to her. “As I said, the toothbrush is in the little cup board under the sink. You can use my toothpaste.”
“Thanks.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed to take a breath while she disappeared into his bathroom.
While brushing her teeth, Samira looked around the room for the first time. She was there before. But she never really looked around. The little plant next to the window, the shampoo in his shower, the aftershave on the cupboard. It was simple but yet it told enough about Jack. Clean, functional and free of clutter. Like the rest of his apartment.
There was something oddly intimate about it. Not because she hadn’t seen the bathroom before. Because she never had a reason to stand there long enough to notice the details.
This was where Jack got ready for work. Where he showered after a shift. Where he stood in front of that mirror every morning, probably already thinking about work before he even left the apartment.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Wearing his clothes. Using his spare toothbrush. Staying in his apartment.
When she came into the bedroom, she saw Jack sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up and down, seeing her in his clothes surely did something in his chest.
“Your turn.”
“Thanks.”
When he closed the bathroom door behind him, she sat down where he was just sitting. Then, she looked around. The room was as simple as the rest of his apartment.
The nightstand beside the bed held an alarm clock, his phone plucked into its charger, a book and a small lamp. Also a pair of glasses. She picked them up carefully and looked at them. Then toward the bathroom, then back at the glasses.
She had never seen him wear them. Not once.
She put them back carefully, looking above the bed. There was a framed picture of two dogs in a forest. If she remembered right he used to have dogs as a kid. Maybe it was them. It was simple. Nothing flashy.
She looked back down at herself. The oversized shirt she got from him had this dark grey tone. When she pulled the fabric between her fingers slightly, she saw the print.
Prince.
In a purple font. She heard him playing Prince before. More than once. But she didn’t take him as a merch person.
Samira looked up when she heard the bathroom door open. Jack didn’t say anything. He just came into the bedroom and sat down next to her, leaning the crutches against the wall. “You’re staring.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“I was looking.”
“At what?”
She hesitated, then her eyes moved toward the nightstand. Jack followed her gaze. The glasses. He looked at them, then at her. “Oh.”
“You wear glasses?”
“Sometimes.”
She carefully picked them up. “I’ve never seen you wear them.”
“Because I don’t.”
“That doesn’t really answer my question.”
Jack sighed. “I need them for driving.”
She blinked in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“You need glasses to drive?”
“Yeah.”
She looked at the glasses again. The black frame with the green streak inside the temples. “But I’ve never seen you wear them.”
“Well, we sat together in a car once. And it was Dana’s.”
That made her pause. He was right. Whenever they went somewhere together, they walked. They were in Dana’s car together only once.
She never really thought about it. “Huh.”
She slowly unfolded the temples. Jack watched her with a confused expression. “What are you doing?”
“Hold still.”
“Samira–”
“Just for a second.”
He looked like he was genuinely considering whether he had enough energy left to argue. But he decided he didn’t.
She turned to him and carefully put the glasses on his face, gently fixing it over his ears. He blinked. “Well?”
She tilted her head. “Hm…”
“What?”
“They suit you.”
Jack sighed. “Great.”
“No, really.” She reached up and adjusted them slightly on his nose. “You look different.”
“Different good or different bad?”
“Good.” She smiled. “I like them.”
“You’ve seen me with them for maybe five seconds.” He gave her a tired look. “Can I get some sleep now?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to look at you for another second.”
He sighed again, but there was the faintest hint of a smile. “You’re enjoying this, huh?”
“Maybe. Doctor Abbot with glasses.”
“Very funny.”
She reached up and took the glasses off again, folding them before putting them back on the nightstand. “There.”
“Happy?”
“Yeah.”
“You done?”
“For tonight.”
“Good.” He reached for her hand. “Come to bed.”
They didn’t immediately move closer.
Samira stayed on her side of the bed, leaving a small space between them. Jack didn’t seem bothered by it.
For a while, neither of them said anything. Then Samira quietly spoke into the darkness. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” I looked to his side. “You?”
“Yeah.” She pulled the blanket a little higher as Jack looked up at the ceiling.
It was strange for him. Not her. But to have someone next to him after years of being alone without his wife.
Samira knew about what happened. He still wore his ring, even at work. So she knew about him being married already when they were just working together. That he was widowed was something she knew for some time already too. And she didn’t mind him wearing the ring or being awkward when they came closer.
“Can I?”
Jack turned his head to her again. She didn’t explain. She didn’t have to. He understood. “Yeah.”
She moved closer. Not much but it was enough that their shoulders touched.
He relaxed slightly before his hand found hers beneath the blanket.
They didn’t cuddle. Jack didn’t know if she was ready. Or even if he was ready. Having her next to him in a bed that was usually empty was a big step he didn’t think he would ever take. It had been years since he had fallen asleep with someone beside him. His wife had been the last person to share it with him.
And now Samira was there.
Somehow, that felt strange. Not wrong. Just strange.