Begin Again

Prologue - Current Day - Annie

June 2024 - Annie is 28, Sam is 30

It’s been one hundred and sixty-two days since I last saw my husband. As I move away from the window that faces the ocean at the resort I’m staying at, I frown down at my phone. I’m in Hawaii for the first time and all I can think about is how long it’s been since I last saw Sam.

“Get a grip,” I whisper to myself and put my phone back up to my ear. “I’m still here.” 

My brother, Noah, called to drop the bomb that because his flight was canceled, he’s going to need me and Sam to confirm everything is good to go for his wedding. 

“Good. And you'll be okay helping Sam out and making sure everything is good for me and Tally?” he asks again, since I didn’t actually give him an answer when he asked me a few seconds ago.

“Not a problem,” I tell my brother the words he wants to hear, the words that I would love to believe. But as I sit on the soft comforter that covers the huge king-sized bed, I wish the words were true. I lie back on the soft blankets and wonder if the bed will swallow me whole so I don’t have to talk to anyone.

My older brother and his fiancé decided to have a destination wedding in Maui. I’ve already arrived, but my brother, his fiancé, and her family are all stuck in Utah for an extra twenty-four hours because of their canceled flight. Not a problem. Except the fact that I’m about to see my husband for the first time in six months. Sam is my brother’s best friend and the best man. He’s also my husband, which no one but the two of us and my closest friends knows about.

Then my brother drops another bomb on me. "He will have to stay in your room. I already called the resort and they said he won’t be able to check in because our room is under my name, not his."

I sit up so quickly my head spins. I squeeze my eyes shut. “But you explained the situation?” My voice isn’t frantic, but everything is different now. Though Sam and I have slept together in the same room—even in the same bed—sharing a space with him after so long apart might be awkward. Especially with how I left things.

“I did.” Noah’s voice dips low like it always does when he feels bad. “Sorry, Sis, they have weird rules and only I can check in.”

I close my eyes and try to take my mind to one of those meditations that my therapist told me to try. I imagine a woman with a British accent telling me to imagine my favorite place in the world. My husband’s beautiful tanned face appears in my mind and my eyes fly open.

Meditation does not work.

“That’s fine,” I say. Maybe Sam will sleep on the floor. Wait, no. I’d never make him sleep on the floor. Not with his bad back. I wipe a sweaty palm on the comforter beside me.

“Will you text him your room info?” Noah is asking, but I’m not really listening. What can I do in the next half hour to be ready to see Sam? I’ve planned our reunion several times in my head, and none of my scenarios included sharing a hotel room. 

“I will,” I say. While it’s not ideal, I’m grateful that I flew in yesterday. I’ve never been to Hawaii and wanted a day to myself before the chaos of the wedding party descended upon the resort. But I expected Noah and Tally to be here as a buffer between me and Sam. Now my buffer is gone.

“Alright,” Noah says, and I glance around the room that seemed so big a minute ago. “Thanks, Sis.”

“Mhm,” I murmur before hanging up. 

I scroll on my phone and start playing “Welcome To New York.” Taylor's Version of course. Taylor is probably the only person in the world who will be able to calm my nerves right now, and 1989 is my favorite album. The familiar notes fill the room and my heart rate slows. 

Then I scroll to my texts. There’s already one from Sam waiting for me.

Sam Holland

Noah said he was going to call you. I’m about five minutes out from the resort. What's your room number?

My gut clenches. I hate how civil he’s being. I wish he would fight or scream or yell or ask me where I've been for the last six months. And a deeper wish—a desire really—I have is that he’ll show up and wrap me up in his arms and tell me just how much he’s always loved me and everything between us will be easy and normal like it was before. But I’m not holding out hope for that. I’m not even sure I’m ready for that.

I scroll up in our text thread, the last text from him—that I left on read—was from the day after I left.

Let me know if you need me.

I never answered and he isn’t the pushy type, something I’m usually thankful for. But right now, I wish that I had tried a little bit harder to close the space between us. He might have left the ball in my court, but I still wish he would have tried. But maybe he didn’t reach out for all the same reasons I didn’t. I wanted to, but the thought of my heart breaking again because of him stopped me. 

Nothing will be able to save my broken heart now. I text him the room number and try to focus on the music while I wait.

The final notes of “Out of the Woods” fade when the doorbell rings. Because of course, my brother would want to get married at a resort where the rooms have doorbells. I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in a place so fancy, not that I’ve traveled much.

I pull myself up to a standing position and slowly walk to the door, taking a deep breath as I grab the handle. I can do this. 

I open the door and I swear I go weak at the knees. I clutch the doorknob like it’s my lifeline. Sam’s light blue eyes meet mine—searching my face—and my body goes warm. He grins at me, the smile that has always been just mine. 

“Hey, sunshine,” he says and my entire body turns into complete jelly. “Can I come in?”

Not trusting my voice, I simply pull the door open wider and let my husband into the room.