Sam ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Rain streamed down the floor to ceiling windows in his office, drowning the world outside and his mood inside. His eyes hurt from staring at his computer screen.

He wanted to go home. But home didn't exist – yet.

It was the last week of living out of a hotel. Ali and he were moving into their new apartment this weekend. Finally, Sam would be able to come home to the woman he loved every night. No more lonely nights in a generic room. He'd had enough of impersonal places. Building a home of his own, with Ali, was a dream he was looking forward to.

Sam did not relish the idea of spending time in his empty room tonight. Ali was having coffee this afternoon with the woman they had met at the corn maze on the weekend, Laura. When Ali had asked Sam to distract Laura's little boy for a few moments at the end of the day on Saturday, he had had no idea what Ali was up to. Then when she had explained in the car, Sam was shocked to discover just how oblivious he had been when it came to the whole situation.

According to Ali, Laura was a woman in distress. Sam didn't understand how Ali could know this. He hadn't seen any evidence.

"I'm not sure." Ali had told him. "It was a combination of a few things. The scarf was the first tip-off. It wasn't that cold out and it felt like overkill." Sam had noticed that Laura had the extra long item of clothing wound around her neck, almost strangling her.  Ali explained that the scarf was definitely hiding something - probably bruises. Combined with the heavy make up, it hinted at trouble.

 "Then there was something in the way Laura carried herself. It set off warning bells for me." Ali had gone on to say that she felt she recognized something in Laura that reminded her of how she acted after an incident with her ex-husband.

Whenever Ali spoke about her ex, Jack Blackhorne, Sam made every effort to remain calm and cool. It was important to him that Ali felt free to talk about her experiences, to share anything that was on her mind. Talking was a part of healing and Sam would do anything to help Ali heal.

But inside, his stomach was always in knots whenever Sam thought about the abuse that man inflicted upon Ali.  Ali and Sam disagreed on the definition of physical, Sam saying that forcing Ali to do something she didn't want to do, in or out of bed, counted. Ali argued her consent to perform was her choice. But they were both on the same page with the emotional and mental abuse Jack had inflicted upon Ali.

Getting Ali free of Jack's clutches had taken a plan of one-part manipulation and two-parts threat of humiliation. The man had his sights set on a life of politics and reputation was everything in that world. In exchange for Ali's silence on the specifics of Jack's torments in the book she was writing on abuse, Jack had agreed to drop his claim on Ali. Bolstered by a promise of access to Sam's father, Christopher Harrington, the maker of politicians, Jack had been eradicated from their lives.

At least Sam hoped so. Just to make sure, Sam had set up an alert on his computer at work for any media on the man. This week he had checked it obsessively as if just speaking of Jack could cause something to happen. But aside from an article about Jack's upcoming speaking engagement at a local university, everything was calm on that front. Thankfully.

Sam hoped it would stay that way. Ali was almost finished with her book. When it was published Sam knew there would be some kind of backlash. At the very least, as her ex-husband and being in the spotlight with an upcoming run for Governor, Jack would be asked about his thoughts on the matter.

Not wanting to think about that, Sam forced his eyes back to the spreadsheet he was supposed to be working on. The thing was, he hated this side of running his family's charitable foundation. Well, truth be told, there was a lot Sam didn't like about the business side of the...well...the business.

But, if he was going to do this, Sam was going to do it right. In exchange for his father's help with Ali's ex-husband, Sam had made a promise to come back into the family fold. He was determined to fulfill his obligation.

With the death of his only brother, the reputation of the family name now rested on Sam. Sure, he could have phoned it in, relied on the people who already worked at the foundation to keep things afloat. They were a small but dedicated group, some of which Sam knew quite well from before he left New York.

The spreadsheet currently being ignored by Sam was for Cruz, the man who counted the pennies for the foundation. Cruz was only two years older than Sam and they had moved their former acquaintance into a friendship since Sam had moved back. He was a passionate person - especially when it came to the New York Rangers. Cruz often challenged Sam's ideas, but always with constructive criticism. It would be easy to leave things in Cruz's capable hands.

But Sam couldn't do that. All eyes were now on him, failure was not an option. He needed to control every detail to push the foundation to be the best. The charities they supported deserved it. The family Sam wanted to reconnect with required it. The woman Sam loved depended on it.

Not that Ali needed Sam. Quite the contrary. Since besting her ex-husband at his own game, she had restored her own finances, giving her the freedom to do what she wanted with whoever she chose. Wherever she went, Ali made friends easily. Sometimes a little too easily for Sam's liking. But he couldn't blame other men for vying for her attention. Ali was the full package, smart, beautiful, funny...he could spend days listing her best qualities. Any man was lucky to have Ali in his life.

Right now, that man was Sam and he intended to keep it that way for as long as he could. Maybe that was why Sam had found himself staring at engagement rings last night.

He had decided to walk back to the hotel, enjoying the crisp autumn evening. Over the last few weeks, on the nights Sam was in the city, he had been taking different routes, wasting time and reacquainting himself with his old hunting grounds.

New York was a city constantly in flux, pulling between the historical landmarks like the New York Public Library or the Flat Iron building and the brand new, cutting edge and sometimes fly by night pop ups. The streets Sam strolled felt familiar and strange at the same time. It had been less than two years since he left but everything felt different.

Maybe that was because things were different now. Back then, Sam had been looking at the city through the lens of depression and filled with resentment. Now he viewed the atmosphere with hope and optimism. Sam saw restaurants he could introduce Ali to, theatres with show's Ali might enjoy, stores with items to fill their new apartment.

And rings Sam could put on Ali's finger.

Entering the boutique jewelry store, his thoughts were of scoping out a potential Christmas present. The idea of giving Ali an item that she could wear as a constant reminder of his love appealed to Sam. A sparkly necklace seemed like a good place to start. Diamonds are forever after all. 

But soon Sam was perusing engagement rings. Considering which style would look best on Ali's left hand. That lead to daydreaming about proposing to Ali. Take her skating in Central Park and dropping to his knees in the middle of the rink. No, that wasn't quite right. Corner booth at his favourite restaurant, ring in the dessert. No, too cliché. On the sand in front of his parent's beach house where they were staying. No, too cold. In bed on their first night in their new apartment.

That was when Sam caught himself. It was too early to be thinking about proposing to Ali.

This wasn't Sam's first time getting carried away with the thought of asking Ali to spend the rest of her life with him. They had only been together for less than a month before the idea had blossomed. Sam knew Ali was the only one for him. He just wasn't sure about how Ali felt.

Given her recent divorce, Ali's comments about marriage were often sour. Words like trapped and suffocating left Sam with the idea that it was not something Ali was ready for. He wondered if she would ever even contemplate it again.

Needless to say, Sam left the shop empty-handed.

"Hey man," Cruz peaked around the door to Sam's office, interrupting his musings. "We're all heading over to Joe's Tavern for a drink after work. Wanna come?"

Sam nodded. Drinks with the gang sounded like a good vaccine to his depressed mood and he could avoid that empty hotel room.