Sam.

~~~

Time was slipping through my fingers. Molly would be leaving Los Angeles soon, and the weight of that truth hung heavily over us in those last few days. Nostalgia wrapped around every moment, and packing up her apartment felt like dismantling a piece of our lives together. Mason had left us alone, claiming he had some last-minute business with his agent and an evening planned with his friends. It was just Molly and me now, and I wanted to make this day special for her.

"Anything you want to do," I had told her, hoping she'd pick something fun, maybe dinner at Rao, her favorite restaurant. But as we lounged in her bedroom that morning, her plans were already taking shape.

I was sprawled across her bed, legs tucked beneath me, while she stood by the mirror near her white wardrobe, pulling a fresh outfit together.

"First, we're going to Shizu's beauty salon for hair and nails," she declared, zipping up her jeans with finality. "Then, we're heading to Rozina's Beauty Spa for facials and waxing."

I groaned, rolling my eyes. "I was thinking more along the lines of a girls' night out—with booze, preferably."

"Don't be like that," she shot back, her voice rising slightly as she pouted. "This is as much for you as it is for me."

I smirked. "Molly, I wanted to do something just for you."

She dropped onto the bed beside me, tapping my hand with her fingers. "Sam, trust me. This is for me. And it's for you too. You're meeting Ray's mom, that's a big deal."

"Don't remind me." I sighed, the thought biting at my nerves. "Do you think my family will like him?"

Molly laughed outright, the kind of laugh that could earn a person a death glare—which she did. "God, no," she said, undeterred by my look. "You knew that already, so don't glare at me. Best-case scenario, Alyssa will approve. And that's if she's still pining over that Brendon guy. Ray kind of looks like him."

I threw a pillow at her, which she expertly dodged. Once she finished dressing, we headed out.

It took twenty minutes to reach Shizu's Beauty Salon. The place was small but lively, the hum of blow dryers filling the air as a handful of clients sat in black chairs. At the front desk, a polite receptionist informed us we'd have a five-minute wait before being seen.

We were eventually guided to side-by-side chairs, the noise quieting enough for conversation. Molly immediately pulled up a photo on her phone, showing the stylist exactly what she wanted. I leaned back, my attention wandering until a woman began running her fingers through my hair.

She looked about forty, with a sharp, elegant haircut and neutral makeup that gave me instant confidence in her abilities. Her touch was gentle but firm, and I appreciated her approach, even if I wasn't planning anything drastic.

"Any ideas for your hair?" she asked, her tone warm and conversational.

"Not really." I motioned toward Molly. "She dragged me here."

The woman chuckled, stroking my hair thoughtfully. "You've got beautiful hair. Maybe a little color refresh? Something to give it life?"

I shook my head. "I'm trying to grow out the old dye—keep it natural brown."

She tilted her head, meeting my gaze in the mirror. "Oh, sweetie, that's so boring. And you strike me as anything but boring."

Her smile was infectious, and before I knew it, my plans had shifted. We agreed on a cut and color. She trimmed the ends, leaving me with a sleek long bob, then added balayage highlights that transitioned from my natural brown to a soft ash blonde. When I stood to look at myself in the mirror, I hardly recognized the carefree woman staring back.

Molly's transformation was equally stunning. She'd kept her hair only slightly shorter but went for a bold silvery-gray color. The effect was ethereal—she looked like a modern-day fairy, and I couldn't stop admiring her.

Afterward, we moved to the manicure station. I stuck with my usual almond-shaped black nails, but Molly went all out, choosing chrome-silver to match her hair. It was only fitting. When the bill came, I waved her off and paid for both of us.

The Uber ride to Rozina's Beauty Spa took another twenty minutes. The building loomed large as we approached, its pinkish exterior framed by gray columns and plastered with bright advertising posters.

"Looks like they do hair here too," I said, pointing to a glossy photo of a woman with perfectly styled waves.

Molly wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, and the only hairdresser they had available last time was Ronda."

"Ronda?" I raised an eyebrow.

She grimaced. "Mason's ex."

The moment we stepped into the salon, I couldn't help but take in the modern design. The interior was elegant, with a blend of gray, black, and gold tones. Massive white and gold columns created an illusion that the ceilings were flying. Above us, chandeliers sparkled with an extravagance that reminded me of my grandmother's house. It was like stepping into a small slice of luxury, and for a brief moment, I forgot about everything else.

At the front desk, a blonde woman with a warm smile greeted us. Her name tag read Lori.

"Hi, I have two appointments for waxing, but I don't have the specifics. What are we doing today?" she asked in a polite tone.

I immediately motioned toward Molly. "It's just her."

"Sorry," Molly cut in quickly, glancing at Lori's name tag before tugging me off to the side. She leaned in close and lowered her voice. "Are you still on your period?"

"No," I said, frowning at the question.

"Good," she said, her tone smug. "Because you're getting waxed."

"I prefer shaving," I reminded her, crossing my arms.

"There are two very good reasons why you'll wax instead of shave," Molly said, lifting her hand and starting to count on her fingers. "One, you'll be stuck on a bus for almost a month. Opportunities to shave will be... limited." She ticked off her first finger, raising her second. "And two? Ray."

"What about Ray?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

She raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that screamed really? "You're going to Paris, the city of love. Odds are, you'll have sex. Right?"

"Maybe," I said slowly, feeling my cheeks warm as the thought settled in. "Yeah, okay. You've convinced me. Wax it is."

We returned to the desk, Molly leading the charge. "Hi again, Lori. We'll both get a bikini and leg waxing."

"Perfect," Lori said, her cheerful demeanor unwavering. "Follow me."

She guided us up a set of stairs to the second floor and pointed us toward two plush chairs. "Once you're done here, come back, and I'll tell you all about our facials," she added with a wink before leaving.

After the spa treatments, we decided to walk to Venice Beach. Sure, it was five miles from the resort, but we figured the stroll would make up for skipping our gym sessions earlier that week. Before setting off, though, we stopped at Carl's Jr. for burgers and coffee. True to form, we topped it off with ice cream shakes for the road.

"Balanced lifestyle, my ass," Molly joked as we walked out.

Our eating habits had always been contradictory to our fitness goals. Molly, naturally lean and athletic, had fallen in love with the gym and yoga after I dragged her along for company. Me? I'd always been on the plumper side, and after Abby—after the miscarriage—it had gotten worse.

The hormonal chaos of pregnancy, followed by grief, left me with an extra fifteen pounds I couldn't seem to shake. Eventually, a doctor diagnosed me with a hormonal imbalance and prescribed medication that finally stabilized my weight. But those extra pounds stayed, and I'd learned to make peace with them.

Scott, with all his experience in sports and fitness, had nudged me toward a gym membership. Since then, I've stuck to yoga and weekly workouts. Still, I didn't look like Molly—and that was okay.

The walk to the beach took about two hours, but it felt like no time at all. The sun hung low, painting the sky in breathtaking shades of gold and red as we reached the sandy shore. We settled down, the ocean stretching endlessly before us, waves rolling in with a soothing rhythm.

"I can't believe it's over," Molly said suddenly, her voice soft as she gazed at the horizon.

"What is?" I asked, confused.

"This." She gestured vaguely around us. "Being within walking distance of each other."

"We'll be fine," I assured her, leaning back on my hands. "You know that, right?"

"I guess," she said, offering me a small, wistful smile. "Remember when we planned to be neighbors? Have kids at the same time so they could grow up and marry each other?"

I laughed, shaking my head at the memory. "Yeah. We basically planned to become my mom and Carol Wade."

She chuckled, her mood lightening. "So maybe it's a good thing our plan didn't work out."

"Speaking of moms," I said, shifting the topic. "How are your parents doing?"

"They're good," Molly said, rubbing her hands together as the breeze picked up. "My mom's new business idea took off, actually."

"Really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Her green eyes sparkled with pride. "She's actually... thriving. It's weird to see her like this, but it's good. She deserves it." Molly's laughter danced on the breeze as she nudged my arm with her perfectly manicured nails. "Her connections with wealthy ladies weren't a waste after all. She did her friends' kids' weddings, nailed a few high-profile events, and now people are practically lining up on the street. Who knows, maybe she'll even plan your wedding."

I let out a laugh, rubbing my arm where she'd poked me. "Oh, that wedding's been planned for five years already. And, apparently, the planning is still going."

"No way," she said, her head tilting in disbelief.

I smirked, meeting her gaze. "Didn't I tell you? Alyssa mentioned they've started up with that nonsense again recently."

"Ugh, fucking Tom," Molly scoffed, leaning back and propping herself on her elbows. "I bet he didn't tell his mom. Such a coward."

"Probably because he still thinks I'll come running back to him," I admitted, my voice heavy with a mix of exasperation and lingering shame.

"That's not happening," she declared with a firm shake of her head, her eyes fixed on the waves.

I sighed, staring at the golden-red horizon. "We don't know that, Molly. Seeing Tom again stirred something in me. Feelings, I guess."

Molly sat up straight and turned to face me. "I'm confident you won't go back to him."

I frowned, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And why's that?"

"Because you're falling in love with Raymond," she said matter-of-factly, her expression soft but resolute. My mouth opened, but before I could protest, she cut me off. "Sam, I've known you for twenty years. I've never seen you like this." She gestured at me with her open hand, like I was a puzzle she had finally solved.

"Love is a pretty strong word, don't you think?" I muttered, brushing sand off my jeans.

She shrugged, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "You'll get there. But let yourself feel. Losing yourself in someone doesn't have to be a bad thing. Love opens doors to places you didn't even know existed."

I looked down at the sand, sifting it between my fingers. "I've been in love before, you know. I know what it's like."

Molly scoffed lightly, shaking her head. "I don't think you were, not really. We've talked about this. Tom was... convenient. He fit the moment. Sure, you felt something for him, but love?" She tilted her head. "I don't buy it."

Her words hung in the air as we fell into a comfortable silence. The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in deep reds and purples. For another hour, we just sat there, the music from Molly's phone blending with the soft rhythm of the waves. Neither of us spoke, and we didn't need to.

As the sky darkened to black, Molly finally reached for her phone and ordered a car. The ride back was quiet, but not heavy. Saying goodbye felt harder than I'd expected, but I knew we'd be okay. Molly and I had weathered too much for anything to break us now.