Ali could no longer hold back her tears. They gushed from her like a broken garden hose. How had things gone so wrong?

The day had started with such promise. She had woken up in Sam's arms. It was the best feeling in the world, her cheek on his chest listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. Each beat felt like their relationship was stitching back together.

It started going downhill when Ali moved. A headache of massive proportions slammed into her, the first symptom of the hangover that would plague her for most of the day. This was going to make her early morning meeting with the caterers more stressful.  But the charity ball was this weekend and the last details needed to be wrapped up.

Tearing away from a sleeping Sam, Ali forced herself to shower and get a move on. She wanted nothing more than to forget the meeting, climb back into bed with her man and make up for lost time. And talking. She had so much to say to Sam. More she wanted to hear.

But responsibilities called. This event for the Harrington Foundation was important. It was a chance to prove to Sam's family that she wasn't just some flighty freeloader. She could contribute, be useful, be worthy of being part of this family. Everything had to be perfect for this event.

Multitasking by cramming her feet into her shoes while putting on earrings, she heard Sam call her name from the bed. "Ali, are you leaving?"

Spinning around to regard him, she was regaled with a sight that made her breath hitch. A decidedly rumpled Sam was sitting half-naked in her bed. His hair was adorably askew, his features still soft with the remnants of sleep and his chiselled abs called to be caressed. Ali groaned internally. The event, her mind reprimanded her body, which was already moving towards Sam.

"I...I am late for a meeting. I have to go." Ali stayed across the room, far away from temptation. "But can we talk? Later."

Sam's expression was unreadable. "Sure."

"Are you available for lunch?" At Sam's nod, Ali's insides relaxed. She hadn't realized she was fearful he might reject her. "Great. I'll make our reservations."

Sam was getting out of bed, moving towards her. "Let me do that. You sound like you have a busy morning." He stopped more than an arm's length from her. "I'll pick you up at the gallery, say a little after noon. Does that work for you?"

The look of hope on Sam's face encouraged Ali. She wanted nothing more at the moment than to make him happy. "12:15 would be great." It was her turn to nod reassuringly.

"It's a date." Sam smiled shyly back at her. Why was this so awkward? Making plans for a simple lunch. Because your relationship might depend on it, Ali's subconscious reminded her.

She thanked him again, feeling embarrassed. Grabbing her purse, Ali headed out the door. Just making the meeting, she breezed into the art gallery moments before the head of the catering company. Taste-testing the final selections for the evening's refreshments was the last thing her protesting stomach wanted. Still, Ali pulled on her armour and barrelled through.

The thought of seeing Sam kept her going through the morning. Now and again she would find herself pausing and just standing and smiling for a moment, thinking about getting to talk to Sam. She missed him so much and wanted to know every detail of what he had been up to while they were apart.

As the clock crept towards noon, Ali found herself in one of those moments, daydreaming about Sam when she felt hands wrap around her waist. Her smile broadened. Sam was finally here. Quickly she turned, wanting to hug him back, maybe steal a kiss. But it wasn't Sam. It was Noah. His smiling face too close for comfort.

It took a moment for Ali's mind to move from dreaming of Sam to the reality of what was happening. Noah was moving in to ...to kiss her. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him firmly away.

"What are you doing?" She could not keep the disgust out of her voice.

"Ali," Noah cooed. He tilted his head and started to move towards her again. "Come on, after last night..."

But Ali side-stepped his advances, placing the table she had been leaning over between her and Noah. "I think there has been a misunderstanding here, Noah." Noah froze in place, his smile wavering. She tried to make sense of his words. "I...I don't think anything happened last night. I certainly never meant to give you the impression..."

Noah stepped backwards and held his hands in front of him in an "I surrender" stance. He looked doggedly at a spot just over Ali's left shoulder, refusing to meet her eye. "Hey... I get it. You're not over Sam yet. Too soon."

Ali gulped for air. "I'm with Sam. Always." And as she said it, it rang so true to her. No matter what might be going on between them now, Sam was it for her. They would work it out. They were made for each other.

Or so she thought. 

But Sam never arrived for their date. Ali waited an hour before sending the first text. Her head was pounding, probably more from lack of real food at this point. But she waited. Sam would come, she was sure of it.

After two hours, she called him. It was then Ali's day truly fell apart. She had the worst and strangest conversation with Sam. He was speaking in riddles and not making sense. Finding herself putting on her coat she moved towards the door. The charity event be damned, she was on her way to Sam. Something was wrong.

Then she heard the voices behind Sam calling for the bartender. Had he ditched her to go to, of all places, a bar?

Ali was stunned. Her first thought was to protect herself, put up the walls. Hanging up before Sam could hurt her more. It wasn't her most mature move. She didn't want to be mature. After a moment she regretted cutting him off. Just this morning she promised to listen to Sam. Try to understand his perspective.

She was pulling up his number when her next appointment walked in. She wavered, caught between responsibility and want. Ali put down her coat, plastered her most professional smile on her face and took care of business. Despite everything, this event was going to be perfect.

An hour and a half later, Ali shuffled her vendors out the door, anxious to get to her phone. She had heard it ping multiple times a while ago and she hoped it was Sam. Unlocking it, she was relieved to see a string of texts from him.

I need to see you.

Give me a chance to explain

Please.

Ali dialled his number. It rang a few times and then went to his voicemail. Disappointed, Ali decided to not leave a message. She wanted to talk to Sam in person. Leave no room for misunderstanding. 

Maybe he would head back to her hotel room? Sam might be on his motorcycle going there right now, that was why he didn't pick up. Stuffing the checklist of the final must-haves for the event into her tote, Ali grabbed her purse and headed out.

But when she got back to the hotel room, Sam wasn't waiting outside her door. Her hands shook with disenchantment as she unlocked the room. Jumping out of his dog bed, Scout ran over to her.

The dog turned circles in front of Ali, demonstrating his excitement at seeing her. She knelt and patted his head. "Hi, baby. How was your day?"

Ali looked at her phone again. Nothing from Sam. She tried calling him again, no answer. Considering what to say, she pulled up his last text. Finally, she replied.

I need to see you too.

Where are you?

She stared at the screen for what seemed like an eternity, willing those little dots to pop up indicating Sam was typing back.

Nothing.

The tears Ali had been fighting all day pricked at her eyes. She was just so tired. It wasn't supposed to be this way. Sam was different. Sam knew how much she hated the silent treatment, about her past, what it did to her. He was icing her out.

Ali shook her head. Sam wasn't doing this on purpose, she reminded herself. He would not punish her. Not like this. Sam was not Jack. There had to be another reason why he was not responding.

With that thought firmly placed in her mind, Ali lay down on the bed. She would just close her eyes for a few moments while she waited for Sam to write back. Collect her thoughts, figure out what she wanted to say to him.

Or what she would do if Sam never replied.