Sammy closed her eyes and exhaled. She didn't want to do this, but she also reasoned that Chris had done everything to make her Vegas experience memorable.
"Fine. Let's do it," she finally said.
Chris jumped up, laughing excitedly. He looked like a kid. He swung her high into the air, and Sammy couldn't stop laughing. Seeing him so happy was a beautiful sight.
They entered the chapel and requested a wedding. It was quick and simple. They exchanged rings, and the fake priest pronounced them husband and wife before asking Chris to kiss his bride.
And he did — like he had been starved. He did so hungrily.
"Are you sure you don't want to get married for real?" the priest asked.
The two newlyweds, FAKE newlyweds, pulled apart and laughed.
After leaving the chapel, Chris declared that he wanted to take his new bride on a Gondola boat ride at the Venetian. This time, Sammy didn't bother correcting him. Her heart was full of emotions.
The ride was enchanting. Music, water, beautiful serenity, wine—Chris had brought a bottle to celebrate. Leaning against Chris, Sammy raised her hand to the sky, watching the ring gleam in the moonlight.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat. She sniffled and wiped away a stray tear.
"You are beautiful," Chris murmured.
Sammy chuckled, shyly.
He placed his hand over hers, their rings shining together. Sammy turned her head to look at him. Both their eyes were full of emotion. Emotions they couldn't explain.
"I don't want this night to end," she whispered.
"Me neither." He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.
Suddenly, Sammy jumped up—wine in one hand. The boat rocked gently. Chris sat up in alarm.
"Careful, Mia," he said.
"Everybody!" Sammy shouted. "This man is my husband!"
Chris stared at her in stunned silence before suddenly bursting into laughter. He stood up as well, spreading his arms wide with flair.
"Everyone, this is my wife!"
They both laughed, holding their sides.
"You should both sit down," the gondola musician warned.
SPLASH! SPLASH!
It was too late. Sammy lost her balance first, tumbling into the river. In a desperate attempt to steady herself, she grabbed Chris—dragging him down with her.
Almost immediately, they surfaced, laughing uncontrollably.
The gondola musician shook his head, sighing. "Fools in love."
[|]
RING! RING!
Jeez, who's calling this early in the morning?
Sammy reached around the bed blindly, groaning as the dreadful phone's shrill ringing pierced her sleep. Pissed, she tried to sit up, but Chris's arm draped across her chest and pinned her down. Heat rushed to her cheeks.
After their unexpected swim, they returned to the hotel, showered, and made love. Her body still felt sore from their passionate lovemaking. She could still feel the impressions of his kisses and the small bites he had left on her skin. The memory sent a shiver through her, warmth pooling in her between her thighs...
RING! RING!
Where the hell was that stupid phone?
Carefully, she slipped out of Chris's grasp, making sure not to wake him.
If that loud phone didn't wake him, nothing was going to happen. Sammy reminded herself.
Standing with a wider view of the room, she finally spotted the phone on the small chair. As she reached for it, a sharp pain shot through her head.
Next time, don't drink so much, Sammy.
She grabbed the phone and glanced at the caller ID.
Dang.
Her father.
Heart pounding, she rushed into the bathroom and locked the door firmly behind her.
"Hello?" she answered quietly.
"Hello, pumpkin. How are you doing? When are you coming back?" her father's voice asked.
Sammy rolled her eyes. "We agreed I could spend a month here. It's only been two weeks. I'll come back when the month is up."
Frederick coughed. "You need to come back." He sounded like he was walking down a street.
"No."
"There have been some changes here. Everyone is asking for the bride. I can't keep making excuses. You need to come back..." He coughed again, a dry, wheezing sound. "And two weeks is more than enough, Samantha."
"No," Sammy snapped. "I asked for a month, and I'm getting a month!"
I don't want to leave Chris. We're just beginning to open up to each other...
"I'll be back in New York in two weeks. I don't care about anyone's suspicions. They can think whatever they want."
A pause at the other end.
"Dad? Did you hear me?" Her voice wavered. "We have a deal, Dad. I'm not running away. I'll come back at the end of the month."
A loud grunt was his only response, followed by silence.
"Dad?" Sammy's breath hitched. "Did you hear me?"
Another grunt.
Then, there was a loud thud.
"Dad?" Her heart pounded. "Are you there?... Dad?"
Silence.
Her entire body tensed. "Dad? DAD?"
Still nothing.
"Answer me!" She was shaking now.
Then she heard it, hurried footsteps approaching the phone.
"What happened to him?" a male voice asked.
Another voice, a woman, answered. "He just fell. I think he fainted. Call an ambulance."
Her father fainted?
"Hello? Can anyone hear me?" Sammy's voice trembled. "What is going on there?"
No answer. She could only listen to their voices in dread.
"I will start chest compression." The man's voice sounded hoarse as he worked. "You call the ambulance."
He is going to be fine. He is going to be fine... Sammy chanted, trembling.
"He is not breathing," the woman's voice echoed.
Tears streamed down Sammy's face as her legs buckled beneath her. She collapsed onto the bathroom floor as her world crumbled around her.
"He's not breathing...what are you doing?" the woman's voice asked.
The man's breathing was ragged as he continued chest compressions. "Stop talking. You're distracting me. Did you call 911?"
"Yes. They're on their way."
"Okay."
In the bathroom, Samantha could faintly hear them. Her mind was spinning.
This was her fault. If she hadn't argued with him or just listened, he wouldn't have collapsed in the street. Her fault. All her fault.
She clutched her chest and cried.
"He's breathing!" the man's voice burst out, flooded with relief.
Samantha's head jerked up.
"Oh my God, you did it!" the woman said.
Samantha stood, gripping her phone, listening with her heart in her throat. Then, the sound of an ambulance and hurried footsteps came.
"Paramedic here. Let me take over," a new voice said.
A beat.
"You did good. We've got it from here."
"I think this is his phone," the woman said. "Oh...someone's still on the line... Hello?"
"Hello!" Samantha said quickly. "I'm his daughter. How is he?"
"The paramedics are loading him now. I'll pass you to them-"
"Your father is stable," the paramedic said. "We're taking him to New York Teaching Hospital. No time to talk...meet us there."
The line went dead.
Samantha exhaled shakily. She splashed water on her face, grabbed her toothbrush, and rushed out of the bathroom.
In the bedroom, she yanked out her suitcase and threw clothes inside. She changed into jeans and a white t-shirt, zipped the bag, and froze.
Chris.
She'd forgotten about him.
She turned. He was still asleep. Should she wake him?
No. He was just a one-night stand that had lasted too long.
She turned back but paused again when she thought he moved.
Was he... awake?
"Chris, I-" she started, but he didn't respond. Just slept.
She'd imagined it.
Get moving, Samantha. Your father's in the hospital.
She grabbed her suitcase and left the suite without looking back.
Outside, she flagged a cab to the airport and left Las Vegas behind.
[|]
Her phone rang just as she stepped out of the airport. Natalie's name flashed on the screen.
"Hey, Sam, where are you? We're outside the airport."
Samantha looked up and saw them waving. "I see you." She hung up and ran to them.
"My dad...how is he?" she asked, breathless.
Natalie hugged her again. Samantha's composure cracked.
Catherine handed her a tissue. "Stop crying...he's stable."
"The doctor wouldn't let us in," she added, annoyed. "Didn't explain a thing. We had to ask a nurse."
"They said we weren't family," Natalie sniffled.
"Of course you are," Samantha said, squeezing their hands.
"If we want to make visiting hours, we have to go now," Natalie said, switching into big-sister mode.
Catherine drove. Natalie held Samantha's hand in the backseat. Samantha didn't speak. She just prayed...for a second chance.