Speak Low If You Speak Love

When Samantha had put Isabella to sleep, after ready her favorite fairy tale 'Sleeping Beauty' to her, Samantha made her way to the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of white wine and then went to the living room, where she made herself comfortable on her sofa. She turned the TV on and clicked through the channels until she ended up watching old reruns of Supernatural.

She loved the show. Before Isabella was born, she used to have Supernatural marathons every single Friday. She knew every word by heart and that made her brother tease her, but she didn't care, because if you love something so much you are not afraid of showing it.

This made her think about Tom. She did love him, deep in her heart she knew that he was the one for her. But she was afraid of what would he say or do if he'd find out about Isabella. She was her world and even if she knew that Tom wouldn't take her from her, she was afraid of losing her daughter.

So many questions and problems came to mind, so she thought she might as well look over some notes she had made during the day. As she took the notes from her bag, she noticed that she was missing Isabella picture she always kept with her. She looked through her notes, but didn't find the picture in them. 'I must have dropped it in the studio' she thought to herself and hoped that Tom hadn't found it. She knew that if he'd see that picture, he'd put one and one together. He'd know that he has a daughter.

***
Tom laid on his bed in his hotel room, looking at the picture of Isabella. The more he stared at the picture, the more he saw himself in her. She didn't look anything like Samantha. Maybe the spark in her eyes or the way she smiled was from her mother, but other than that - she was a copy of him.

He still couldn't get his mind around the fact that he had a child. A beautiful baby girl. He wondered why Samantha hadn't told him about her. Was she scared of how he would react? Did she think that he'd take Isabella away from her? If so, she was wrong. All he wanted to do was to kiss her and tell her how much he loved her. He wanted to make her his. He wanted to marry her, wanted to be a family.

As Tom laid there, he knew he had to do something about this. He thought how he might go about it, but before he thought of something, he was fast asleep, dreaming about his family. About Isabella and Samantha.

***
When Samantha arrived early the next day to the studio, she walked straight to the casting room and started to look for the picture. She looked everywhere, but she didn't find it. So she sat down in her usual chair, waited for Tom. She hoped that today would go fast, because being here again made her think of the kiss they had shared the evening before.

A small smile was formed by her lips, as she remembered how his lips had felt against hers. The softness of them was still the same as they were four years ago. His touch was still as electrifying as that one night. Everything about him was still the same. She thought about that night once again, but her trail of thoughts were cut short, as Tom walked into the room.

***
Their eyes found each other eyes in a second and Tom started walking to her. She felt her heart beat a little faster as he made his way to her. He pulled her up from the chair she sat on and kissed her passionately. He pulled her closer to him. She deepened the kiss, which made Tom move his hands from her hips to her back. There wasn't any room between. Just the clothes they were wearing separated them.

Tom pulled away after some time and looked deeply in her eyes. He didn't want to let her go, now that he had her in his arms again. He wanted to keep her next to him for the rest of his life. Yet he moved a little bit away from her, so he could reach to his jacket pocket to give her back her picture.

"I believe this is yours," Tom said as he handed Samantha the photo.

"Thank you. I thought I had lost it for good," Samantha looked straight into his eyes when she said it.

"She's beautiful," Tom told her, "where is his father?"

Samantha didn't know how to answer the question, because something in her mind told her that he already knew the answer to that question. But what if he didn't know, that Isabella was his daughter. Would this be the best time to tell him this?

"He is standing right in front of me," Samantha spoke.