Small steps

Liam stared at his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen. He knew Sam hadn’t fully forgiven him yet. She’d given him a chance, but it felt fragile. She hadn’t walked away, but she hadn’t said yes, either. She wanted him to prove himself. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that words—no matter how sincere—weren’t enough. He had to show her. 
The first message he sent wasn’t easy. He had spent the better part of the morning overthinking what to say. Should he give her space? Apologize again? He had to strike the right balance. He didn’t want to drown her in guilt or remind her of all the things he’d messed up. 
“I’m so sorry, Sam. I hope we get past this.“
That was honest. Simple. He hesitated for a moment, then added something that he hoped might bring a little light to her day. 
“I’ve been thinking a lot about you, and I hope today’s a better day for you.”
He stared at the text for a moment longer before pressing send. His heart raced slightly, but he knew it was the right thing. He had to let her know he cared, without overwhelming her. He waited. And waited. But he knew it wasn’t about getting an immediate response. It was about letting her know, in small doses, that he was still there. 
His mind couldn’t help but drift to the night before, the way she’d looked at him with a guarded vulnerability. It was clear she still had walls up. Sam wasn’t going to make it easy for him, and maybe that was for the best. He had to prove he wasn’t just asking for forgiveness; he had to show her that he was worth trusting again.
———
The second morning, Liam was at his easel, trying to paint, but the colors seemed wrong. He couldn’t focus. His thoughts kept returning to Sam, to the way she’d looked at him that evening in front of the diner—guarded, but still willing to listen. She wanted him to prove that he was serious, that he was more than just the art and the chaos he sometimes got caught up in. 
He grabbed his phone again, knowing what he needed to say, even if it wasn’t easy.
“Good morning, Sam. I hope today’s better than yesterday.”
He paused, his fingers hovering over the keys. He could send another apology. He could keep it simple. But instead, he went with something that felt truer—something about her that he hadn’t been able to shake.
“I still keep thinking about that laugh of yours the other night. It felt like everything was okay, even just for a moment.”
There. He smiled faintly to himself, the memory of her laugh making the words feel lighter. He sent it and set the phone down. No expectations, no pressure. Just an honest attempt at connecting.
He knew he had to be careful. It wasn’t about bombarding her with constant texts. But it was about showing her, in whatever small ways he could, that he wasn’t going anywhere. That he would wait. He would be patient, even if it took longer than he wanted.
He kept sending her texts every morning, careful not to go too far.
One particular morning, Liam woke up earlier than usual, his mind already buzzing with the weight of everything. He knew he had to do more than just text her. He wanted to show her, in a way that felt personal and genuine, that he wasn’t just apologizing, but that he was taking her seriously.
He remembered what she’d said about her brother, James—how he was into archery. It was a detail he hadn’t forgotten.
 He had no idea if Sam would like the gesture, but he figured it was worth trying. He could’ve sent something extravagant, but that didn’t feel right. He wanted it to be meaningful, even if it wasn’t flashy.
Liam arranged for a custom quiver, an engraved one, to be sent to Sam’s house. It wasn’t big, wasn’t flashy. Just a small token for James, something that spoke to the thoughtful attention he’d paid. No note, no overt attempt to get into Sam’s personal space. It was just a gift for her brother, a gesture that showed he cared about the things Sam valued.
But there was still more he needed to do. Liam wasn’t ready to give up on showing Sam how much he meant it.
He thought about the lilies. They’d always been his mother’s favorite flowers. It felt fitting—an echo of his mother, of how much she’d believed in love and kindness. He couldn’t send roses, something too romantic, too heavy. But lilies? They felt right.
So, he arranged for a bouquet of lilies to be delivered to the diner where Sam worked. He didn’t want to make it too much. No grand gestures. Just something simple, clean, and beautiful. But they were also a way to say he was thinking of her, even when he couldn’t be there in person.
But the note was the tricky part. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. He didn’t want to add more pressure. So he kept it simple. A little cryptic. Maybe a little mysterious, but sincere in its own way.
“For the walk home, always.”
That was it. No explanation. No long-winded apology. Just a quiet, simple statement. He didn’t even sign it. He didn’t want to make it feel like he was demanding anything from her. It was just a reminder that he was still here, and he cared. 
The day went on, and Liam found himself checking his phone too often, waiting for something, anything—that would tell him he wasn’t completely out of line. He knew she had every right to be skeptical. She had every right to question his intentions. He couldn’t erase what had happened, but he could prove, bit by bit, that he wasn’t going to give up. 
At the end of the day, he walked past the gallery, his mind still on Sam. He didn’t know what else he could do today, but he didn’t want to stop trying. She wasn’t ready to trust him yet, and that was fine. He just needed to be patient.
And as the hours passed, he allowed himself to hope that, maybe, tomorrow, she’d be ready for a little more.