Chapter 47
Amelia
Lucas doesn’t wait for me to say anything more. He turns on his heel and walks back into the hospital, his sweater soaked from the rain that’s been falling around us, drops of it adhering to his hair.
I pursue him back to Annabelle’s room, but before he can go inside, her doctor, a wonderful hematologist called Lisa Monroe, storms out, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Amelia, why has Annabelle been moved? I wasn’t informed,” she says, marching toward us, her eyes alert and irritated.
Lucas stops in front of her, blocking her path, and Dr Monroe’s eyes narrow at him. She’s only five feet tall, but intimidating as hell.
“And who are you?” she asks, her eyes darting between Lucas and me.
“My name is Lucas Crawford. Amelia tells me there’s a new treatment for Annabelle?”
Dr. Monroe frowns. “Yes. Amelia has already arranged the first LUNA dose through the specialty pharmacy. We’re just waiting on clearance to get started. Could you please clarify your involvement in this?”
“I’m financing it.” I open my mouth to protest, but he holds up his hand like I’m entirely separate from the conversation. “Whatever she needs, whatever the cost, I’ll cover it.”
Dr. Monroe’s head whips around to me, her mouth falling open as she stammers out her final question.
“Is this true?”
Lucas turns to me, eyes dark with quiet determination.
There’s a piece of me that wants to fight, my pride rising to argue the point. But the logical part of my brain knows better. This is going to change everything. All my worries, my fears about what might become of my sister, are solved.
I should be happy, but my whole body feels as if it’s going to dissolve right here.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Good,” Lucas says, short and perfunctory. “Do everything required to save her.”
Dr. Monroe takes his card, nods her head, and goes back into Annabelle’s room. I follow her, not looking at him as I walk by. Should I thank him? I don’t feel particularly grateful—this is clearly his way of assuaging his guilt for getting rid of me.
I walk into Annabelle’s room to find her deeply asleep. She looks tiny in the bed, thin and pale, but the weak daylight outside, even in the drizzling rain, is flooding through the window. The room is light and cool, with an ensuite bathroom and a sink beside her bed for fresh water.
I watch her, the relief slowly beginning to settle on my shoulders. I have never felt as tired as I do right now.
“Amelia.”
I turn around, not sure what to say to him. He’s standing behind me, his hands in his pockets, sweater falling effortlessly over the body I know so well.
I’m never going to be able to touch him again.
“What do you need?” he asks slowly.
I swallow, the numbness I feel at the back of my mind beginning to spread through my whole body.
In truth, I need to go home. My impulsive decision to walk out of my parents' house was satisfying in practice, but even with the bag I have packed, I’ve realized how much I have left behind that I need to collect.
Might as well use him for the short time he’s here.
“Is Melvin with you?” I ask quietly.
“Always.”
“I could do with going home. I need to pick up a few extra things,” but as I say so, I turn, gnawing at my lip as I stare at Annabelle.
“She’s sleeping,” Dr. Monroe says gently from behind me. “The best thing you can do now is get some rest, Amelia. You must be exhausted.”
I nod and walk slowly out of the room. Lucas falls into step beside me as we walk, but I can’t speak. This is it. This is the end.
We reach the car, and I climb in. There are no funny exchanges with Melvin; he’s completely silent. I catch his eye in the rearview, but can’t deal with the look of pity on his face.
I feel as if my sister is dying, not that she’s saved.
I barely register the journey, staring out at Brooklyn as we drive through the suburbs. Kids cycle past on their bikes, hooting and hollering at the fancy car.
As we reach my street, Melvin pulls to a stop, and to my horror, Lucas gets out before I can say anything. I scramble to follow him as he walks up the drive.
“You can’t come in!” I squeak.
He turns to me, giving me a long stare that makes me want to fall to my knees and beg him to take me back.
“And why not?”
“Because my parents might be home. I don’t know whether my dad is on a shift or not.”
“Those people don’t concern me. You do. And I’m coming in.”
I frown at him. “I’m getting a little tired of you ordering me around.”
He doesn’t move, and after a while, I have no choice but to go to the front door and unlock it. I open it a fraction of the way and listen carefully, but there is no sound from inside.
Pushing it open, it hits several old bottles, but the main living room is in a better state than I expected.
I step inside, and Lucas follows me. His face is blank as he looks around. The living room is littered with cans and bottles.
“Sorry,” I say automatically. “I usually clean up after them.”
Lucas shuts the door. He looks ridiculously out of place in the tiny house. It doesn’t suit him—squalor. He’s made for finer things.
“What did you need from here?” he asks briskly.
“They’re not bad people,” I blurt out, surprising myself.
Lucas looks around the room, and it’s a long, assessing stare that seems to take in everything I try to hide from the world.
“These are the people who were having a huge fight when I dropped you off yesterday?” he asks, stepping over a wide stain on the carpet. “The same people who have abandoned their eldest daughter, leaving her to care for her younger sibling, forcing her out of her home, and ignoring her needs?”
I can’t speak as his eyes meet mine. “They don’t sound like good people, Amelia. You shouldn’t live here anymore.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I already decided I’d move Annabelle out. I don’t need you to take charge like this; I can manage it myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”
I expect him to get angry, but he just smiles at me, cocking his head to one side.
“Noted. So, what did you need to get?”
“Just some things from my room.”
“Lead the way.”
I want to protest his coming with me, but I know he’ll just find a way to do it anyway. I walk through the living room and up the stairs to my bedroom.
Lucas makes little comment as he enters, glancing around with interest. I’ve always wanted to paint the lilac walls, but I never had enough money to get the paint I wanted.
I go to my closet, pulling out some clothes and dragging a bag from under the bed, setting about collecting everything I might have missed. I don’t notice how quiet it is until I glance back at Lucas, and my stomach drops to my knees.
“Oh my God, put that down!” I shriek, leaping across the space only to have him hold my notebook up and out of reach.
“Is this me?” he asks, holding up the picture I drew of his naked ass the week before. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I’m beet red.
“You weren’t supposed to see those,” I whisper.
He laughs gently, flipping through the pages. “They’re wonderful.” It’s so sincere that I look up at him in amazement. “These are excellent, Amelia. I had no idea you were so talented.” He turns to the canvas between the cupboard and the wall. “May I?”
I shrug; he’s already seen the worst of it.
He pulls out the abstract drawing of my face. I've come to quite like it now. Although, strangely, standing here with Lucas, the face looking back at me from the canvas doesn’t seem so familiar any longer. I feel like a different woman from the one who painted it.
“This is amazing,” he says solemnly.
“Th…thank you,” I mutter, turning back to my bag. “I don’t have any expensive canvases; the paint will probably start chipping off that one soon.”
He doesn’t reply as I zip up the duffle and put it over my shoulder. When I turn around, he’s watching me, and there’s an expression on his face I can’t decipher.
He glances out of the window, looking at Melvin on the street. I strain to do the same and smile. Melvin is out of his car, leaning against it, chatting it up with some of the kids in the neighborhood. I hope he has an eye on his side mirrors because they’ll be gone before he can blink.
“You could do a lot with your life, Amelia,” Lucas says, looking back at me. “You could do anything you want. Be anything you want. I hope you realize that.” He sounds impossibly sad.
I can’t speak. I knew it was coming, but the reality of our goodbye is so much worse than I had pictured.
“Your sister is in a good place now. Whatever happens between us, I won’t go back on what I’ve offered. I’ll have my accountant send the funds you need to an account in your name. It’s yours to do with as you see fit, and the money you earned working for me is yours to spend however you wish.”
My stomach flips.
“Your talents have been entirely wasted until now. But I hope there is never a doubt in your mind that the time we spent together was wonderful.” His voice softens, and he hits me with that little smile I love so much. “And that’s why you’re fired, effective immediately.”
I feel the tears well up in my eyes. It’s impossible to prevent them. I stand there, numbly, with my bag over my shoulder.
He’s fired me. Dismissed me like used goods.
Then Lucas steps forward as the bag drops to the floor, and I stare up at him as he places his hands on my shoulders.
I’m not sure I can bear his reassurances now. I just want him to leave.
“You’re no longer my escort, Amelia,” he says, his voice a whisper. “For a long time now, I’ve seen you as much more than that.”
My heart swells as I meet his gaze, a tear falling down my cheek, which he brushes away with his thumb.
“If you want me, really want me, not my money, not the job, then I’m here. I don’t know what the future might hold for us, but all I know for certain is that things can’t continue as they are. I care about you too much.”
He sighs, curling my hair behind my ear, running his eye over it with an expression that looks a lot like awe.
“I’m more grateful than I can say for all you have done for me the last few weeks,” he says gently. “But it wasn’t real. I want it to be real. If that’s something you want, too, then I’ll be waiting.”
He steps back, and I miss the warmth of his hands immediately.
“I’ll give you some time to think about it and get Annabelle settled.
No matter what happens between us, I will never turn my back on her.
Not ever. But if you want what I want, a real relationship for us to make a go of things, then come by my apartment tomorrow night.
If you don’t show, then I’ll have my answer. ”
He kisses me gently, his fingers tightening around my shoulders, and when he pulls back, my whole body is trembling like a leaf.
“I care about you, Amelia. But you have to come to me on your own terms.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “You’re so much more than an EA to me, and if you give me the chance, I’ll prove it to you.”