The Reckless Collision

Sam.

~~~

"We need to talk," Ray said, settling on the edge of the bed.

The room felt heavy, weighed down by the aftermath of the detectives' visit. I stood near the window, pulling the blinds shut, letting the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the white walls. The distant hum of the city barely reached us, muffled and inconsequential compared to the tension between us.

I perched on the edge of the bed, hugging my knees to my chest. My body felt drained—exhaustion pooling in my limbs, tears still burning in my eyes. The silence between us stretched thin, taut like a thread about to snap.

Ray rubbed his temples, his expression serious but gentle. "I can't believe Scott went that far. Are you okay?"

I nodded faintly, staring at the floor. My voice came out as a whisper. "I'm still shaken, but at least now we know the truth." Another tear slid down my cheek, and I wiped it away quickly, hoping he wouldn't notice.

Ray reached out, his warm hand brushing my arm. "Yeah, but we need to talk about something else."

I looked up, wary of his tone. "What is it?"

His gaze drifted to the nightstand, and my stomach tightened when I realized what he meant. The bottle of pills sat there, a silent accusation.

"I'm worried about these, Sam," he said softly. "You're taking more than prescribed."

I exhaled sharply, leaning back against the headboard. "Ray, it's just for the pain. You know how bad my shoulder is."

"I know," he said, his concern etched in his voice. "But it feels like you're relying on them too much."

My frustration bubbled up. "I'm not addicted. It's temporary, just until the pain goes away. You've seen how bad it gets."

Ray's expression didn't change, his eyes steady on mine. "I just don't want to see you hurt yourself more in the long run. Please, promise me you'll be careful with them."

His hand found mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. The gentle touch tugged at my resolve. I opened my mouth to argue but stopped, my gaze falling to where our hands rested together. The tension between us was palpable, stretching the quiet until I could feel it pressing against my chest.

Ray inhaled deeply, breaking the silence. His hesitation made my pulse quicken. "And about Tom," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

My heart sank. My head snapped up, my stomach twisting. "What about Tom?"

"I'm pretty sure you called him last night when you were drunk," Ray said, his eyes searching mine.

Panic fluttered in my chest. "How do you know that?"

"He called me," Ray said, his voice tight. "Told me to get my shit together and look after you. What did you tell him?"

"Oh God," I muttered, burying my face in my hand. "I just asked him a few questions. How did he even get your number?"

"That's not the point, Sam. What did you tell him?" His tone hardened, and he leaned back slightly, putting more distance between us.

"It was a mistake," I admitted, my voice trembling. "I was out of it. Courtney was here, and I got insecure and jealous."

Ray's jaw tightened. "I'm scared you're leaning on him more than on me when it comes to these things, love."

The pain in his voice was unmistakable, and guilt gnawed at me. I reached for his hand, my voice trembling as I tried to reassure him. "Ray, you're the one I need. Tom is just a friend. I don't know what I was thinking. It was a mistake."