She tucked her phone back in her bag, just as Renee came back into the room wearing a green mask with slices of cucumbers on her lids. An esthetician was guiding her through the Salon, and finally plopped Renee down in the seat beside Samantha, and proceeded to attach a headrest to the back of her chair.
“I didn’t want to wait back there all alone,” Renee said. “I missed you too much.”
Samantha laughed and hung her bag back on the wall. “Good, because I was just about to pick out my own haircut, and we all know how well that turns out.”
Renee cracked a tiny grin. “Those itty bitty bangs you had in eighth grade,” she stated. “But don’t worry, I’ve already called ahead and told them exactly what to do.”
Samantha grinned. “Thank you.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, as the esthetician reclined Renee back in her chair, positioning her feet up on a stool so she could massage them. When the esthetician began to knead, Renee visibly relaxed and almost melted.
“So,” she began sleepily. “When does Steven arrive? I was worried for a minute he might get here before you and I’d have to entertain him on my own.”
It was meant as a joke, one she’d made regularly when they lived together, but the whole energy in the room instantly shifted. Samantha cleared her throat, knowing her friend had no idea what had happened, and grabbed a copy of the Wall Street Journal from the shelf. “We broke up,” she said softly, hoping the nonchalance in her voice carried to her best friend, but as soon as the words exited her lips, Renee removed the cucumbers from her eyes.
“What?” Renee whispered. “When?”
Samantha closed the magazine and turned to face her. “On the trip. Two days ago.” She took a breath, trying to calm her nerves. “You were right. He put everything above me and I was sick of it. When he called to tell me he couldn’t make it to the wedding, that was the end for me.”
Renee frowned, sending bits of green mask to fall to her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”
She shrugged. “Don’t be. I should have done it a long time ago…like you said.”
A tear slipped down Renee’s cheek, leaving a streak of flesh visible through the thin mask.
Samantha sat forward and grabbed hold of Renee’s hands. “I thought you’d be happy. I thought—”
“I’m pissed, Sam. So angry he’s treated you like this again.”
Samantha nodded, her chin slightly quivering, because it was obvious how much Renee loved her, how ferociously she cared about her.
“This trip has taught me a lot about myself.” She began. “One being that Steven and I were never meant for each other. I don’t think even as kids, but especially not now.”
Renee nodded, as though she’d known this fact a long time. “How did you do it? What did you say?”
Samantha winced. “I did it by text. I know it wasn’t ideal, but he was always too busy to talk. I knew he’d at least check his messages.”
Renee raised her eyebrows. “How did he respond?”
“I don’t know. My phone got wet. I have no idea.”
Renee laughed, then turned in her seat and looked at Samantha through the mirror. “Serves him right. Though honestly, I’m surprised he let you go that easily. I’m surprised he hasn’t tried calling me to get to you.”
Samantha sighed. “I guess he’s resigned to it being over. He’s focused on his career, and I’m honestly relieved about that. It will make things easier when I get home.” She nodded for emphasis, then turned in her seat to continue reading. But a large burly man came to stand behind her at that moment.
“You must be Samantha,” he said in a deep, husky voice.
She nodded, then glanced over at Renee with eyes as wide as saucers.
Renee giggled. “Tom, this is my best friend Sam. She just broke up with her boyfriend, and needs the hottest haircut within your ability.”
Tom smiled, instantly transforming his face into something reminiscent of a teddy bear. “You got it, Nay,” he said. Tom lowered Samantha’s seat, indicating she should follow him, and gestured for her to sit down at the shampoo bowl.
“Lie back,” Tom said. He then guided her neck down into sink, where he began delicately removing her braids. He then wet her scalp, sending the perfect temperature water over her head, and proceeded to wash her hair—with the strongest, most skilled fingers she’d ever felt in her life. Almost.
Samantha’s hotel room turned out to be a mere two doors down from Renee’s. Two.
Convenient for borrowing deodorant, but not so convenient if she wanted to sneak a certain someone into her room in the middle of the day. It wasn’t that she wasn’t having fun either, because spending time with her best friend was exactly where she wanted to be. She craved their interaction, their easy friendship that allowed them to speak freely, or be perfectly silent without any awkwardness at all.
At one point during their appointment, Renee was telling her about her and Phin’s first date, and Samantha thought she might cry, she was laughing so hard. Or at another time, when Renee told her again the story of how he proposed, Samantha thought she might cry, but this time because it was utter sweetness.
And then, they had a long talk about Steven, and about how Samantha feared she’d stayed with him for so long for all the wrong reasons. Because she was scared of hurting people, of saying no. Scared of rejections, and of failure. In the end, they had a big ol’ cry fest about how much they missed each other, and made promises to visit each other whenever they could, no matter where they lived or how difficult life became.
But now, she was alone in her room, which left plenty of time to think about Tristan. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact he’d become the forbidden fruit, or if it was something else, but all her hormones were bursting. Having him at her will for two days had ruined her for life. Already, all she could think about was kissing him, touching him, and him touching her. She dangled her feet off the side of the bed and let out a deep sigh.
She’d tried to take a nap as Renee was doing, but every time she closed her eyes, memories of Tristan’s lovemaking played through her mind, making her feel…anything but rested.