Chapter 16
16
Amelia
MONDAY
Marin:
Great news, babes. Socials are doing a full 180.
Me:
In what way?
Marin:
That OG thirst trap of you and Gage? Gone. Poof. Vanished. And the comments are finally vibing. Amelia stans are loud rn.
Me:
Amelia stans?
Marin:
Yuh. As in, the girlies are here for you. Like full ride-or-die status.
Me:
Okay. Great. And when you say thirst trap, do you mean the photo of us?
Marin:
Yep.
Me:
Thanks for getting it pulled.
Marin:
I’d love to say it was me, but I think it was Gage’s main character energy working overtime.
Me:
Right…
Marin:
Anyway, you’re trending chill rn. Don’t do anything chaotic. Talk soon, babes x
I frown, wondering why that account would delete the photo just like that. It doesn’t make sense, but I don’t have time to dwell on it. I’m in the middle of emailing a friend back who reached out about a job he wants me to do. A short indie film with a three-week-turnaround. We’ve worked together before, and I love collaborating with him.
I’m also relieved to know not everyone’s blacklisting me.
TUESDAY
Me:
We need to finalize the prize categories for the science fair.
Gage:
I thought we had.
Me:
I’d like to see more prizes.
Gage:
You want a prize for everyone?
Me:
I want more encouragement, yes.
Gage:
We don’t need to give every kid a prize. It waters it down.
Me:
It’s not watering it down. It’s celebrating different strengths.
Gage:
So we’re rewarding them just for showing up?
Me:
No. We’re making sure no one walks away feeling like they failed. There’s a difference.
Gage:
Kids survive not winning, Amelia. Let them learn to be proud of the work, not the ribbon.
Me:
They’re little kids, Gage. One kind word on a certificate could be the reason they keep loving science. I’m thinking awards like “Most Curious Concept” and “Most Passionate Presentation” and “The Einstein Enthusiasm Award.”
Gage:
Those aren’t real metrics.
Me:
They could be.
Gage:
Let the record show you talked me into this with absolutely no logic and a lot of charm.
WEDNESDAY
Tim:
So now that we know you’ve officially entered your dating era, I have names.
Me:
Names? And I never said I was in my dating era.
Colin:
You really did.
Tim:
Names of guys I could set you up with. Solid options. My Dating Era Dream Men List has a firefighter, a dog bakery owner, a lumberjack-themed influencer, and a librarian who reviews romance novels on TikTok on it so far. I’m handing you flavor. Don’t waste it.
Me:
Absolutely not.
Tim:
This is curated thirst, sis. A buffet of potential.
Colin:
She doesn’t need names, bro.
Tim:
True.
Me:
Wait. What?
Colin:
You’ve already found him.
Tim:
Tall. Hot. Intense. He’s got that feral-but-contained look. Like he’s polite until he’s not. No one on my list even comes close.
Colin:
I can’t figure out why he hasn’t made his move yet.
Me:
Oh, he has. Trust me.
Tim:
EXCUSE ME? Run that back. Immediately. You just casually said “he made a move” like we weren’t out here STARVING for content.
Me:
We’re taking the girls to the science museum together on Saturday.
Colin:
Why am I sensing there’s more here that you’re not telling us?
Tim:
Agreed. She dropped “trust me” like it’s not a whole confession. Back it up, Queen, and spill.
Me:
He kissed me.
Tim:
See, this is why I don’t trust you. You hold onto the good gossip like it’s state secrets.
Colin:
How are you feeling about it?
Me:
Honestly? I don’t think I’m ready for this.
Colin:
I think you are. I think you’re just scared.
Me:
Yes! If we start something and it crashes and burns, Sarah will be affected. God, I can’t even imagine navigating her friendship with Luna if things got messy with Gage.
Tim:
Know what I think?
Me:
I’m sure you’ll tell me even if I say no.
Tim:
I think you’re using Sarah as a shield because you’re terrified of getting hurt again. Not every guy is like James, Amelia. The other thing? You’re not just someone’s mom. You’re still you. A woman who deserves more than just surviving the day. You deserve something that lights you up.
THURSDAY
Me:
We need to talk color scheme for the science fair.
Gage:
We need a color scheme?
Me:
Absolutely. I’m thinking navy and silver with galaxy-themed table runners and maybe string lights if we can swing it.
Gage:
String lights?
Me:
Yes. Just because it’s educational doesn’t mean it can’t be magical.
Gage:
I was going to suggest using the school banners.
Me:
Let me have my stars and shimmer, Gage.
Gage:
Not arguing. Just imagining you bossing me into hanging string lights.
FRIDAY
By the time Friday afternoon rolls around, I feel like I’ve crammed a month’s worth of stress into five days. It’s been one thing after another. Work deadlines. Science fair planning. School emails. Life admin piling up. The house refusing to clean itself. And in between it all, I’ve been helping my lawyer pull together evidence for the plagiarism case.
Then, there’s Gage.
He’s been politely distant this week. Giving me space like he said he would. And I can’t decide what I think about that. Which probably says a lot about where my mental state’s at.
The only thing I know for sure?
He’s woken my body the hell up.
I’m officially sexually frustrated, and the fact I wasn’t during my long celibate era but am now , after one kiss from that man, says everything.
We’ve seen each other only once this week, at school pickup. Five minutes of conversation while the girls buzzed around us, all science fair logistics and surface-level parenting talk. But his eyes? They said plenty .
That was three days ago, and when I run into him at school on Friday afternoon, literally run into him, his hands are firmly on my hips before I have a second to catch up with what’s happening.
“Shit,” I say, gripping the first thing I can find, which happens to be his suit jacket. “Sorry.”
“No.” His fingers curve around me tighter rather than letting me go. His eyes settle intently on me. “Busy day?”
“Huh?” My brain lets me down yet again because his cologne is currently ruining me.
“You look like you ran here.”
I let go of his jacket and take a step back. “Oh. Right. Yes.” Then I realize not one of those words actually constitutes an answer to his question. “It’s been a busy week. And yeah, I was running late today.”
“How’s everything going with work?”
“My lawyer’s busy compiling evidence, so that’s keeping me busy. And I’ve got some other projects I’m working on.” I smile as I run my fingers through my hair. “Things on social media seem to have calmed down, though, so that’s a relief.”
“Good to hear.”
We’re standing in the school playground, surrounded by parents and noise, having a conversation about work, and all I’m thinking is about is his mouth on mine, and how good that felt.
I’ve replayed that kiss a thousand times.
I’ve remembered the feel of his hands on my body and the way his growly voice made its way into my veins.
And I’ve gone over and over the moment when he said, “I don’t want to fuck this up.”
Tim’s right: I am terrified of bringing another James into my life.
He was as charismatic and magnetic as Gage is when I met him. There was none of the manipulation back then, only love and tenderness. I had no idea who I was marrying the day I said, “I do” to James.
When I search my memory for the signs I missed, I struggle to find them. But if I were to search for the signs that reveal a good man, I know I wouldn’t find a time when James showed me his fear of fucking things up with me. When he put me first in the way Gage did the other day.
Looking at Gage now, I see a man watching me like he’s hoping I’ll let him in. And I’m reminded of the other thing Tim said: I’m a woman who deserves more than just surviving my days.
I move back a little closer to him, enjoying the way I surprise him. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”
He turns slightly, angling his body into mine. “I am too.”
The sounds of children coming our way filter into my awareness, but I’m lost in Gage for this one last moment before our daughters arrive and demand our attention. He’s lost in me too.
The tension thrumming between us is intense.
I desperately want to reach out and trace a line from his throat down to the third button on his shirt that’s still done up. I want to press my body into his and undo that button. Undo them all. Get that shirt off him.
Holy god.
This is not a thought to be having while standing in a school playground.
“Mommy!”
Sarah’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. The last thing I see before turning to look at her is the heat in Gage’s eyes.
I’m still thinking about that heat later, while helping Sarah with a project, then during dinner, and after Sarah goes to bed. That is, until James texts me, knocking the air from my lungs.
James:
I barely recognize you lately, Amelia. Stealing someone else’s work. Drinking during the day. Practically fucking a man in public. Just make sure you’re not dragging Sarah into your mess while you figure out who you are now.
Anger flares hard in my chest as I read his bullshit. And instead of not taking his bait, I tap out a furious response.
Me:
The only thing I did from that list was the day drinking. And what the hell makes you think you have the right to judge me for that?
James:
The fact I’m the father of your daughter.
Me:
Being Sarah’s father gives you NO RIGHT to say anything to me like you just did.
James:
Oh, sweetheart, it does. One of these days, you’ll find out just how much of a right it gives me.
Me:
I don’t know what you mean by that. Are you threatening me?
James:
You always were easy to impress. A few kind words, a smile, a quick fuck, and you’d believe anything I wanted you to. Seeing what you’ve become is embarrassing.
My throat closes. My stomach flips. My fingers freeze.
And then my brain, god, my brain , starts twisting everything.
I was that woman.
The one who fell too fast for the wrong kind of man.
What if I’m her all over again now?
With Gage.
What if I’m walking straight back into the fire, holding my daughter’s hand?
I need to slow this down.
Figure myself out some more.
Wait until I know for sure I’m not letting a man talk me into things with a few kind words.
I tap out a text to my brother.
Me:
Hey, are you free tomorrow? I’m supposed to be taking Sarah to the science museum at 2 p.m., but something’s come up.
Colin:
Yeah, I’m free. I can take her.
Me:
I owe you. But also, she’ll love spending some time with her favorite uncle.
Colin:
I am under no illusions I’m the favorite.
Me:
You underestimate yourself, big brother. Love you xx
I don’t send Gage a text letting him know of the change of plans. Instead, I tell myself he’ll understand. He’ll be okay that I just need a little more space.
What I conveniently ignore is the way that man looks at me, the way he’s made it abundantly clear he wants so much more from me than a quick fuck, and that he’s not the kind of man who would ever tolerate being ghosted.