Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
The morning light was already pouring through the curtains when Jo opened her eyes.
She lay still, the duvet half hanging off the bed, her hair sticking to the back of her neck.
Her flat was silent, no surprise there, just the sound of the heating coming to life as the radiators filled with water.
It was far too early for a Sunday morning, but sleep had been hard to come by all night.
Instead, Jo had lain awake with everything she didn’t want to feel.
She sat up slowly, her elbows braced on her knees as she lowered her head to her hands. Her phone was still on the nightstand, where she’d eventually placed it down sometime after midnight. After she’d stared at Amelia’s last message long enough to memorise it.
Take all the time and space you need x
She closed her eyes and bit her lip. The guilt from last night hadn’t subsided, and she didn’t imagine it would any time soon.
How she’d almost kissed Amelia. The way she’d leaned in, wanting so badly to taste her lips, only to step back like a coward.
The hurt in Amelia’s eyes as she’d turned to leave.
God.
Jo hadn’t wanted to pull away, not really, but the moment had come out of nowhere, and she’d panicked.
Because there was so much weight behind what they were doing.
There was so much history and so many consequences.
She didn’t want to mess it up. She couldn’t bear to be the reason Amelia regretted anything.
But now, with the sun creeping across the wooden floor and the guilt settled firmly in her belly, Jo wasn’t sure if pulling away had protected either of them. All she knew was that she missed Amelia, and that last night had changed something between them.
She made her way into the kitchen barefoot, flicked the kettle on, and stood by the counter.
As she folded her arms and stared at the tiled splashback, she knew the answer.
She wanted Amelia. Not in a fleeting way and not just sharing dinner or having drinks at the club.
She wanted the mess, the depth, and the terrifying vulnerability of more.
And that was what she wasn’t sure she was ready for.
Not because she didn’t care, but because she cared too much.
Jo made her tea and carried it to the window, cradling the mug in both hands. The world was already awake outside, but Jo barely had the strength to move today. She heard a dog bark in the distance as a couple walked past with takeaway coffee, and everything just seemed…normal. Ordinary. Safe.
You need to get out of your head and live your life!
Jo had spent so long chasing distractions—first in the dark, then in denial—and now that she’d finally stopped running, everything hurt that little bit more.
Perhaps she should have just left well enough alone.
Maybe she never should have agreed to dinner with Amelia.
Nothing seemed clearer this morning. Not really.
She set her mug down and reached for her phone, opening the message thread with Amelia. No new messages. Just the last thing Amelia had written. Still there. Still waiting.
Take all the time and space you need x
Jo exhaled a deep breath. Maybe it was time to stop being afraid of what she wanted.
Maybe it was time to choose.
Just…not yet. Not right this very minute.
She opened a new message and chewed her lip.
I’m sorry if I hurt you last night. I’m still figuring my feelings out and I feel terrible for what I did to you. I hope you can forgive me, and I hope you can believe me when I say that I wish things could be different x
She didn’t press send. Instead, she saved it to her drafts and set her phone back down on the table. Today was going to be about honesty. With herself, if nothing else. And maybe, tomorrow, she’d be ready to send the message.
Pacing the kitchen floor, Amelia held her phone tight against her ear, wondering if opening this can of worms was going to be worth it. She needed to talk, and Evie was always the one who gave her sound advice. Well, most of the time.
The call connected on the third ring.
“Amelia?”
“Hi,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“You alright?” Evie asked, concern laced in her tone. “You don’t usually call me on a Sunday unless something’s fallen through…or you’ve bought a new building without telling me.”
Amelia wanted to laugh, but it didn’t seem appropriate right now. She moved into the living room, dropped down into the armchair in the window, and sighed. “No. It’s not property related.”
“I see.” Evie cleared her throat. “Is this about Jo?”
Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes. “Yes.”
“I was wondering when you’d call.”
“I’m in over my head.”
“Because she kissed you?” Evie guessed.
“She didn’t.” But God, I wish she had, Amelia thought.
“O-oh.”
“She almost did,” Amelia said, pressing her fingers to her temple. “We were at my door after dinner and…God, Evie, it was right there on offer. It would have happened if she hadn’t pulled back.”
Evie continued to listen.
“I can’t blame her. She was being responsible.” Amelia said. “She was probably doing the exact thing I should have done weeks ago instead of letting any of this happen in the first place.”
“You mean…the Lia situation?”
The reminder of the dark room made Amelia’s stomach lurch. “I still haven’t told her. She has no idea it’s me.”
“Okay,” Evie said slowly. “And what’s your plan?”
“I don’t have a plan. I have an emotional disaster and a woman who makes me feel like I’m twenty years younger and twice as stupid as I was back then.”
Evie chuckled. “That bad, huh?”
“I lied to her, Evie.”
“You didn’t lie. You withheld.”
Amelia clenched her jaw. “That’s splitting hairs, and you know it.”
“Well…yeah, but we both know why you did it.”
Amelia leaned her head back against the armchair. The sky outside was painfully blue, but inside, it was more miserable than it had ever been. “I didn’t want to give her a reason to run,” she said. “And I was afraid that if I told her the truth, that I was Lia, she’d feel betrayed. Violated, even.”
“She might still feel that way when she finds out the truth, but it could go the other way, and she might finally understand that she’s never actually had to choose between two people.”
That thought had haunted Amelia all night.
“She’s been trying so hard to be decent,” Amelia whispered. “To do the right thing. And all the while, I’ve been there, in both spaces, letting her think she’s torn between two women when it’s just been me. God, what kind of person does that?”
“One who’s lonely. One who finally let herself feel something real again.”
Amelia covered her eyes with her hand. “I’m such a fucking coward.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I thought I could keep it separate,” Amelia went on, “and then I realised she was starting to fall for me, Lia, and I still said nothing. I thought maybe I could stop. Just pull back and let her make her choice. But then she asked me to dinner and…I wanted her to choose me. Not the anonymity. Not the fantasy. Me.”
“And she did.”
Amelia let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know how to fix it.”
“You tell her,” Evie said matter-of-factly.
Amelia’s chest ached at that. “And risk losing her?”
“You risk losing her either way, Amelia. But at least this way, you’re being honest. You’re giving her the chance to choose you fully. She deserves that.”
Running a hand through her hair, Amelia closed her eyes and took a moment to consider her options. It was easy for Evie to tell her to be honest, but Evie wasn’t the one who would lose everything when it all turned to shit. “I don’t know how.”
“You start by telling her the truth…and you do it soon. Before the space she’s asked for turns into distance that neither of you knows how to tackle.”
Amelia swallowed down her emotions. She could already picture it now.
Jo’s face when she revealed that she was Lia.
The hurt, the pain, the confusion in those beautiful blue eyes.
Perhaps Amelia should just cut all ties with Jo and hope she never found out the truth.
It certainly seemed easier as she sat here thinking.
“I’m terrified,” she finally admitted. “But I brought this on myself, and I have to face the consequences.”
“If there are any consequences.”
“Oh, there will be.” Amelia scoffed. She knew better than to imagine any other outcome. “Trust me…there will be a lot of consequences.”
The sun had shifted to the other side of the house by the time the late afternoon had come around.
Amelia had found herself chasing it all day, moving from room to room to feel the warmth on her face, and now here she sat…
in the quiet of her office, curled up in her armchair with her second untouched coffee of the day.
She’d spent the last hour rehearsing the conversation in her head, fear continuously rising from deep within.
Jo, I need to tell you something. You haven’t been torn between two women. It’s just been me the whole time. I’m Lia.
God, each time she went over it in her head, it sounded worse than the last time.
The panic had started to creep in just after her call with Evie. Telling Jo the truth seemed brave in theory—perhaps empowering, too—but now, the closer she got to actually doing it, the more it felt like striking a match in a house full of petrol.
Amelia’s stomach dropped when her phone started to ring on the arm of the chair.
Jo.
For a moment, she just stared at the screen. She wasn’t ready; she wasn’t prepared. But letting the call ring out felt worse. That was a kind of cowardice she wasn’t willing to live with.
She answered on the fifth ring. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Jo said, hesitation noticeable in her tone. “Is…this a bad time?”
“No, of course not.” Amelia shifted in her seat. “Is everything okay?”