Chapter 49
Chapter
Forty-Nine
AMELIA
The lake’s icy grip closes over me, a suffocating shroud of cold that pulls me under, the water thick and black, swallowing the moonlight’s faint silver.
I’m sinking, my limbs heavy, useless, like lead dragging me to the depths.
Slivers of awareness pierce through—the chill seeping into my bones, my lungs screaming for air, a dull ache pulsing in my skull where the ashtray struck.
I fight, desperate, willing my body to wake, to thrash, to break free, but it’s like moving through molasses, my mind foggy, trapped in a haze.
Jason’s face flashes—his big, beautiful eyes sparkling with laughter, his curls bouncing as he waves a crayon dragon.
Then Max, his blue eyes warm, his hands cupping my face, whispering my name.
I’m screaming inside, a silent, wrenching wail, my heart splintering for them as the water claims me, pulling me deeper into its void.
Suddenly, something soft grazes my cheek, warm, gentle, like a whisper against my skin.
It comes again, damp now. I jolt awake. My eyes snap open, and I’m face-to-face with a pair of round gray eyes, wide and shimmering.
Jason. His small face hovers close, his breath warm, his curls brushing my skin.
The panic ebbs as the hospital room comes into focus—sterile white walls, the steady beep of a monitor, the faint throb in my temple.
I sit up slowly, the thin blanket slipping to my waist, my hands trembling as I grip the bedrail.
“Oh my God, Jason. I’m so happy to see you,” I whisper, my voice scraped raw.
Jason flinches, his lips quivering, tears pooling in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Aunt Amelia,” he says, his voice tiny, cracking as he steps back. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just… kissing your cheek. I missed you so much.”
“Oh, no, sweetheart, it’s okay. There is no one in the world I would rather see, right now,” I say, reaching out to him. I pull him close, wrapping my arms around him. His small body is so marvelously warm. His warmth is like a balm to the nightmare’s lingering chill.
“I was just startled. I’m so happy to see you.” I kiss his forehead, his curls tickling my lips.
The door swings wide open, and Max strides in. “Amelia,” he breathes, his voice thick with relief. “I was with the doctor—is everything okay?” His gaze darts to Jason, then back to me, searching, his hand hovering over me like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he touches me.
I smile, small but real, my throat tight with emotion. “Jason was just… being sweet.” “He kissed my cheek while I was sleeping. It was so sweet, but it kinda startled me.” I laugh and ruffle Jason’s hair.
Max’s eyes stay sharp, protective, as his eyes rove all over me. He kneels beside Jason, his hand gentle on his son’s shoulder, his voice low but firm. “Buddy, you gotta go easy on Amelia, okay? She’s still healing.” There’s a tenderness there, but also a father’s quiet command.
I shake my head, my smile softening. “It’s okay, Max.
Really. It's okay.” My eyes drift to the bedside table, catching a bouquet of lavender and lilacs, their purple petals vibrant, their scent weaving through the sterile air, sweet and familiar.
My heart lifts, a warmth spreading through my chest, chasing away the last shadows of the lake.
“These are beautiful,” I murmur, my fingers brushing the petals, their velvety texture sparking a quiet joy.
Max’s eyes crinkle, a grin tugs at his lips, warm and boyish. “Yeah,” he says, his voice low, threaded with something deeper. “Lavender and lilacs. Every time I see purple flowers, I think of you, Amelia.”
I swallow, and my gaze locks on his, the room shrinking to just us.
“When can I go home?” I ask, my voice hopeful, trembling with the need to leave this cold room, to be with them.
Max’s grin widens, his eyes brightening, a spark of relief in their depths. “Good news. The Doctor says you’re healing well and are clear to go home today.” He pauses, his hand finding mine, his fingers warm, calloused, grounding me. “We’re ready to take you home whenever you are.”
I smile, so immensely relieved that my heart feels like it’s soaring.
Jason bounces on his toes, his grin wide, and we start packing.
My movements, though slow, are careful since my body is still tender.
Jason helps, folding my sweater with clumsy, eager hands, his chatter filling the room with light.
Max watches, his eyes soft, and then he leans close, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“Sara’s gone,” he tells me, his gaze holding mine, steady and sure. “She was escorted out yesterday, so you don't have to worry, okay? Ever. I know you were worried about us, but it’s over now. It’ll just be you, me, and Jason. Forever. Unless we have some kids.”
My breath catches, and relief floods me. A flicker of fear lingers, though— from the memory of Sara’s rage, the ashtray’s cold weight crashing against my temple. I push it down and focus on Max’s warmth.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my heart full of gratitude, of love for them both. We finish packing. Jason insists on carrying my small bag. We exit the hospital and head to the SUV. Max’s arm brushes my shoulder while Jason’s hand clings to mine, and it all feels like heaven.
The drive home is quiet, the city encased in the magic of dusk. Jason dozes in the backseat, his soft snores filling the car with a gentle rhythm. Max’s hand rests on the console, close to mine, and I feel it—the newness of our beginning. The family I’ve dreamed of having since that summer.
We pull into the driveway, the gray stones of the house warm and inviting.
Stepping inside, the foyer feels reborn, the air clean, scented with fresh flowers, Sara’s shadow gone.
The memories of her violence tug at me, sharp, but only fleeting.
I shove them away. I won’t let her spoil my life.
I cling to Jason’s warmth, to Max’s steady presence.
“You must be starving,” Max says, his voice soft, his eyes searching mine for any sign of discomfort. “How about dinner? The table has been set up for the three of us. Something special.”
I nod, my heart light, a smile curving my lips. “Sounds perfect,” I say, squeezing Jason’s hand. “Come on, little angel.”
He tugs at me, his eyes bright with excitement, and his voice bubbling. “Wait, Aunt Amelia, you gotta see the studio first!” he says, pulling me toward the stairs, his small hand insistent. “I made something while you were in the hospital!”
I laugh, my body still weak but my spirit lifting, warmed by his enthusiasm. “Okay, okay,” I say, my voice teasing, soft. “Let’s see this masterpiece of yours.”
We climb the stairs, his hand in mine, the past fading with each step. The studio door swings open, and I stop dead, my breath catching in my throat.
The room is full of purple flowers—lavender, lilacs, violets, their petals spilling across tables, shelves, the hardwood floor, their scent wrapping me like a warm embrace.
Candles flicker on every surface, their golden glow dancing on the walls, casting soft shadows.
Above, a white banner stretches across the room, bold, hand-painted letters proclaiming,
Will You Marry Me?
Fingerprints—Max’s large, Jason’s small—dot the fabric, smudged in bright colors, a testament to their shared effort.
My heart stops. Tears flood my eyes as I take it all in, unable to process.
I look down at Jason. I wonder what his father told him.
Perhaps that I’m not his sister and that he loves me.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, my hands trembling as I cover my mouth, tears spilling hot down my cheeks. The candles glow and shimmer through my tears. I’m overwhelmed with happiness.
“Aunt Amelia, say yes!” Jason tugs my hand, his gray eyes wide, pleading, his voice high and quivering with nerves. “Please say yes! We worked so hard, and I was so nervous!” His small face is earnest, his curls bouncing as he bounces on his toes, and my heart melts, love for him flooding me.
I kneel, laughing through my tears, a shaky, joyous sound, and pull him into a hug, my arms tight around his small frame. “It’s so beautiful, Jason,” I say, my voice thick as I kiss his cheek. "You and your dad—you’re amazing. And my answer is yes. Most definitely yes.”
“You’re saying it to the wrong guy,” Max’s voice says from behind, low and warm.
I turn, my breath catching, and there he is, on one knee, his blue eyes, a velvet box open in his hands. A ring sparkles inside, a gorgeous diamond, its facets catching the candlelight, radiant and breathtaking.
“Amelia,” he says, his voice rough, breaking on my name, “I can’t put into words how much I love you—they’ll never be enough.
But you know. You’ve always known me, seen me, understood me like no one else.
Having you to spend the rest of your life with me, to be my wife, it’ll be the greatest joy I’ll ever have.
You’ll make me the happiest man alive. So will you marry me? ”
My tears fall faster, my throat too tight to speak, my heart pounding with a love so fierce it hurts. I nod, my vision blurring, and choke out, “Yes. Of course, I’ll marry you.”
His grin is wide and radiant. He rises and slides the ring onto my finger.
The metal is cool, and the fit is perfect.
It's also so freaking dazzlingly gorgeous. I’m startled by its beauty, but before I can speak, he pulls me into his arms, his lips crashing into mine.
The kiss is all fire and tenderness, his tears mixing with mine, salty and warm.
Jason cheers and shouts, “Congratulations!”
I feel him barrel into us, his small arms wrapping around our legs, his giggles bright and infectious.
We laugh, crouching to pull him into the embrace.
Max’s arms encircle us both, his warmth grounding me, Jason’s laughter filling the room, and I’m home, wrapped in the family of my dreams. My heart is overflowing, the future is bright with love.