12. Trust Fractures #2
Hazel’s brow quirks, and she gives me a pointed look. “Would he? Because I’m pretty sure your reaction would’ve been ridiculous no matter what.”
I open my mouth to protest, but the truth in her words stops me. I hate admitting it, but maybe she’s right. Maybe I’ve let my dislike for Jada cloud my ability to see things clearly.
Hazel reaches over, placing a hand on my knee. “Look, Amelia, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Reid. But I do know that you need to take a step back and think clearly. Don’t let your emotions make the decisions for you.”
I nod slowly, her words sinking in.
“You’re right,” I say softly. “I need to figure out what’s real and what’s just…in my head.”
“Exactly,” Hazel says, standing up and brushing off her jeans. “And on that note, I’m going to leave you to call him. You need to have a real conversation, Amelia. Not an argument, not accusations. Just talk.”
I watch her head toward the door, my heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid between Reid and me.
“Thanks, Hazel,” I call out.
She turns back, giving me a small smile. “Anytime. You know that.”
With a wave, she’s gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and the difficult conversation I know I need to have. The phone feels heavy in my hand as I stare at Reid’s name on the screen. Hazel’s words echo in my mind—Have a real conversation, Amelia. Not an argument, not accusations. Just talk.
But even with the best of intentions, my chest tightens at the thought of what might unfold. The weight of everything left unsaid between us feels impossible to bear any longer. I press the call button. The phone rings once, twice, then clicks as he answers.
“Hey,” Reid says, his tone neutral, guarded.
“Hey,” I reply, gripping the phone tightly. “Do you have a few minutes to talk? I feel like we need to clear the air.”
There’s a pause on his end, and I can almost hear him debating whether or not to engage. Finally, he sighs. “Yeah, I’ve got a few minutes.”
I take a deep breath, bracing myself. “Reid, I know things have been tense between us. And I know I haven’t made it easy. But I think we need to talk about everything—what’s bothering us, what we’re feeling—because this distance is...it’s too much.”
His voice sharpens. “You’re right. We do need to talk. But since we’re putting everything out there, maybe you can explain that post I saw today. The one with Eric.”
My stomach sinks. “What post?”
“The one where he’s practically drooling over you in the caption,” Reid snaps, his words cutting through the air like a knife. “‘Beautiful person working on a major project’? Really? And then you thanking him like that didn’t mean something.”
I blink, caught off guard. “Reid, that’s not?—”
“You seriously don’t see how that looks?” he interrupts, his tone growing more heated. “I’m here, trying to hold things together, and you’re—what? Getting cozy with your boss?”
“Excuse me?” I say, my own voice rising. “That’s not what happened. It was a professional post about our work at the conference. He was talking about my personality, my professionalism, not whatever you’re twisting it into.”
“Amelia,” Reid says, exasperated, “it didn’t sound professional. It sounded personal. And you just went along with it.”
I close my eyes, willing myself to stay calm. “Reid, I can’t believe you’re accusing me of something like this. I’ve done nothing—nothing—to make you doubt me.”
“You don’t get it,” he snaps. “I see you working with this guy every day, sharing projects, taking pictures together. Meanwhile, I’m over here, miles away, with no idea what’s really going on. Do you know how hard that is?”
“You think this is easy for me?” I fire back, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’m the one juggling Liam, work, and everything else while you’re out there partying, taking pictures with girls I don’t know, and barely talking to me!”
“That party was nothing,” Reid retorts. “I’ve told you that. But this—this thing with Eric—feels different.”
“Only because you’re making it different!” I shout, unable to hold back. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re accusing me of something I haven’t done because you’re insecure. And you’re lashing out at me instead of trusting me.”
“I’m insecure because you’re giving me reasons to be!” he yells, his voice cracking under the strain.
For a moment, the line goes silent except for the sound of our heavy breathing. My heart pounds in my chest, the weight of the conversation pressing down on me.
“Reid,” I say finally, my voice softer but no less strained.
“I understand that this distance is hard. It’s hard for me too.
But if we don’t trust each other, then what’s the point?
This isn’t just about Eric or that girl at the party.
This is about us. We’re falling apart, and instead of trying to fix it, we’re tearing each other down. ”
His response comes after a long pause. “I don’t know how to fix it, Amelia. I don’t even know where to start.”
My throat tightens, and tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “I don’t either,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “But we have to try. For us. For Liam.”
Reid exhales heavily, the tension in his voice giving way to something softer, almost defeated. “You’re right. I know you’re right. But every time we talk, it just feels like we’re fighting. And I hate that. I hate that this is what we’ve become.”
“I do too,” I say, my voice trembling. “But fighting doesn’t mean we don’t care. It means we’re scared. And I am scared, Reid. I’m scared of losing you.”
The line falls silent again, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s hung up. But then his voice comes through, quieter this time. “I’m scared too,” he admits. “Scared that I’m not enough. That I’m not there for you and Liam the way I should be.”
“You are enough,” I whisper, wiping a tear from my cheek. “But we both need to do better. We need to trust each other, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”
Reid sighs, and I can hear the exhaustion in his voice. “You’re right. I’ll try, Amelia. I promise I’ll try.”
“Me too,” I say, though the words feel fragile, like they might shatter under the weight of everything left unsaid.
“Goodnight, Amelia,” he says after a long pause.
“Goodnight, Reid.”
As the call ends, I sit in the quiet of my living room, the conversation replaying in my mind. We’ve taken a step forward, but the distance between us still feels vast. For the first time, I wonder if love alone is enough to bridge the gap.
I curl up on the couch, pulling a blanket over me as tears slip silently down my cheeks. Tonight, the weight of our love feels more like a burden than a gift, and the question I can’t shake is whether we’re strong enough to carry it together.