CHAPTER 14 Amelia
Amelia
“You’re killing me!” Bella says through a mouthful of her breakfast muffin. “I need to know what happened last night.”
It’s been over twelve hours since the kiss to top all other kisses and I’m still processing. After vowing to come up with a plan to ‘fix’ everything, Bella had found Daniel and the three of us had left the ball (Daniel was happy to not have to be out socialising for one minute longer than needed). Once we’d returned to their house, Bella insisted I stay with them for the night, and I’d crashed in their spare room, the weight of too many emotions lulling me into a coma.
And now it’s morning. Bella turned up in my room after the sun had barely made an appearance, a cup of tea in one hand, a plate of breakfast muffins in the other.
“I don’t know where to start,” I tell her, pushing away the food, all thoughts of eating making my stomach churn.
“When I left you, you were talking with Joe. When you disappeared, I was blissfully thinking the two of you may have hit it off and you’d gone somewhere to get to know each other better.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me and I laugh. Like she knew I would.
“Joe was…nice”—I cringe at the use of that word again—“but then Mike turned up—”
“—No!” she gasps, crumbs spraying from her mouth. “Mike the electrician, Mike?”
Her eyes are wide as saucers.
“Yes, that Mike. So, I’m introducing the two of them…”
“How did that go?” she interrupts again, gesturing with her hands for me to tell the story faster.
“It was awkward and then…”
“What?” she screeches.
“Jake turned up.”
She gapes at me. “He did not.”
“He did. I said hi, he looked at me and the two men, and he turned and walked away.”
“Hummph.” Her muffin finished, Bella moves to sit next to me in bed, her back against the headboard. “So, this is what we need to fix?”
If only it were that simple.
“No.” Despite my stomach telling me not to, I nibble on a muffin. The smell of bacon and cheese too tempting to resist. “I smoothed that over. We ended up chatting and then we danced.”
In my mind I’m back in his arms, floating around the dancefloor, completely safe with his arms around me.
“I take it from that dreamy look on your face that the dance was something special.”
My cheeks heat and I wave my hands in front of them. If this is how I react to telling her about the dance, how am I going to get through describing that kiss?
“It was,” I confirm. “And then we somehow found ourselves outside…” I decide to leave out the part where I hid from both of the men she’d been attempting to set me up with. Save myself that lecture. “And we went for a walk on the beach…”
“Hold up,”—her pointy elbow jabs me in the ribs—“you went for a moonlit walk on the beach with Jake?”
I nod and she squeals again, her face alight with excitement. “Tell me everything.”
With a deep breath, I detail everything that happened, from the honest conversation about that first night we met, to his feelings about me with his brother, to his visits to the café, hoping to see me.
“I knew that’s what he was doing!” I give her a doubtful look. “Well, obviously not at first. But that day you were both there at the same time? I knew from the way he watched you that he came there for you.”
“Actually, I think he came for the brownies.”
She grins. “Why can’t it be both?”
We sit in silence for a minute, while I let her digest all this new information. I can hardly believe all that was said between us, so she must be feeling a similar sort of way.
“None of this is a surprise to me.” OK, maybe not. “When the two of you are together, you both have sparks flying off you.”
There’s that word again. Sparks.
“We kissed.” I blurt it out, now physically unable to hold the information in.
She twinkles at me. “How was it?”
Mind-blowing, earth-shattering, life-changing.
“It was amazing.”
She puts her arm around my shoulder. “So why do you sound so depressed about it?”
I sink into her, accepting the comfort she’s offering. “I’m scared.”
There. I’d said it. The reason I’d bolted away from Jake last night. I’m completely terrified of the way I feel about him. The way I feel when I’m with him. The way I desperately want him to feel about me.
“That’s normal.”
I can’t help the snort that slips out from me. “Bella, I love you, but nothing about me is normal.”
She huffs, a supremely annoyed huff. “Don’t you remember how hard Daniel fought against his feelings for me? And how scared I was to stay here for him, not trusting in what we had together?”
I think back to the time when Bella and Daniel were not the solid couple they are today. When Daniel had been so consumed with his grief over the loss of his mum, that he’d pushed Bella away, repeatedly. And how, after they’d jumped over that hurdle, Bella had been the one to want to run away from their relationship, unsure whether he was worth the risk of uprooting her entire life for. So maybe everyone is messed up in their own special way?
“Yeah, but you guys had a deep friendship to fall back on when things got rough. Jake and I have barely a handful of moments together.”
The muffin in my stomach flips at this. How is it I’d spent six months wasting time with someone like Robby and have only had a matter of hours with someone as amazing as Jake?
“The time spent together doesn’t matter, Millie,” Bella scolds me gently. “It is the quality of the time. And the connection between the two people. Let me ask you this: have you ever been this open about your family history and your insecurities with any of the men you’ve dated in the past?”
She’s got me there. “To be fair, I only just figured out I had all this emotional baggage.”
Bella tsks at me. “Not baggage, Millie. You need to reframe it. You’ve lived an experience that shapes your adult relationships. And that sort of trauma doesn’t go away overnight. You are being honest about it now, working through it. And it sounds like Jake would want to work through it with you.”
I think back to our conversation last night, how he’d supported me, excused my behaviour, cheered on my breakthroughs. None of his actions suggested he viewed me as damaged. As anything other than someone worthy of love.
“I messed up!” I flop over onto my front and moan into my pillow. “He’s so amazing and I ran away from him. When he’d been so vulnerable with me.”
“It’s OK to have a freakout.” She strokes my hair. “I pushed Daniel away after he’d flown to the other side of the world to be with me. If we can get through that, you two can get through a momentary freak out on the beach.”
Her words, though reasonable, are not having their desired effect. I’d seen Jake’s face, his disappointment, his resignation, like he knew I was going to do exactly what I did. I’m a walking cliché.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
She pouts as I peer up at her over the pillow stuffed against my face. “But we haven’t come up with a plan.”
“Please, Bella. I need to take a break from thinking about all of this…” A break from thinking about Jake. He’s been running around in my head for too long now.
“OK.” She brightens. “Let’s stay in our pyjamas and watch Christmas movies!” She looks so delighted with her suggestion that I give in, even though every fibre of my being wants to sulk in bed, not enjoy movies filled with holiday cheer.
“I’ve got a whole DVD collection that I brought over with me from Italy.” She bounces off the bed, a new plan to focus on. “You can choose the first one.”
“DVDs? Really?”
She tugs on my hand, urging me to get moving. “It’s the only way to make sure I have them all available to me when I want to watch them.”
“Poor Daniel,” I grumble as I follow her to the living room.
“I heard that.”
“I meant you to.”
She chuckles, not the least bit offended, and I take in the sheer volume of Christmas decorations surrounding us. I know Bella loves, loves, loves Christmas and each year since she moved here, she’s upped her decorating game, but this is the next level. Every inch of space is covered in Christmas cheer. Daniel, the minimalist, must be losing his mind over this.
“Isn’t it great?” Bella beams at me, watching me do a 360-degree spin, my mouth hanging open.
“It’s…something.”
“Daniel told me to decorate the place how I want…” she trails off, her head tilted, perhaps looking at it through my eyes and seeing that she’s gone a little overboard. “And I think it’s just right.”
Perhaps not.
“Your husband must have his love goggles on permanently to live with all of this.” I point to a trio of life-sized elves standing next to us in the hallway, watching us with their dead eyes. It’s creepy.
“They light up!”
“Of course, they do.” I laugh and inch away from the potentially killer Christmas elves, flopping down on the couch, happy to have escaped their beady little eyes.
Bella drops next to me, pulling a tray from the coffee table over to us. “Pick one.”
She’s arranged what looks like fifteen DVDs on a Christmas platter, like they’re a dessert that you’d bring to a dinner party. It’s confirmed: Bella is a Christmas lunatic.
“Ummm.” I peruse through her selection, each one looking sickly sweet and so not what I need today. “No Home Alone?”
She bites her lip. “It’s the only one I don’t have, and it’s also the only one anyone ever requests to watch.” She looks aggrieved. “Back home, we don’t see this little boy being left behind by his family as a Christmas movie. We see it as child abuse.”
I hug her close, amused by her look of horror, along with her description of our cultural differences. She’s so freaking delightful.
“OK, I guess we can watch Love, Actually.” She squeals. I guess I chose well. “I’ve never actually seen it.”
She gapes at me for a full minute and I squirm under the intensity of her gaze. Had I known this was a prerequisite to be her friend, I would have brushed up on my rom-com watching.
“Right,” she starts when she’s pulled herself together. “You’re in for a treat!”
Jumping up, she puts the DVD in the DVD player (where they found one of those, I don’t even want to ask) and is chattering away excitedly about Hugh Grant and Colin Firth and “Oh, it’s so good” when her phone goes off.
“It’s my mamma,” she says before answering, immediately launching into fluent Italian. “I’ll be right back,” she tells me, leaving the room, her voice louder when she’s speaking her native language.
With Bella gone, I lean back against the couch and close my eyes. Flashes of Jake’s face closing in on mine: Jake’s lips on my freckles, Jake’s look of disappointment when I left him, have my eyes popping open. Will I ever be able to rest in peace again?
“Are you OK?” Daniel’s voice startles me. “Sorry,” he says as I press my hand to my racing heart. I hadn’t even realised he was at home.
“I’m fine,” I sigh, not even a bit close to fine.
“You don’t sound fine.” He sits down on the couch next to me, a kind look on his face. I’ve always liked Daniel, even before he gave in and fell in love with my best friend. He’s a man of few words, but he’s solid. A stand-up person you know you can depend on.
“It’s boy troubles.” I make a face, embarrassed to admit this to him.
He nods. “I figured.”
We sit in silence. I fidget, picking at my cuticles while he stares at the rows of Christmas lights hanging around his window, appearing slightly baffled by them.
“So, I’m guessing it didn’t work out with Joe?”
I leave my cuticles alone, tucking my hands under my thighs, and look at Daniel. “It did not.”
“Was that because of Jake?”
I must look startled again because he laughs, a knowing laugh.
“How do you know about Jake?”
He gives me a look.
“Bella? She’s got a big mouth.”
“She’s worried about you,” he excuses her instantly. “And she’s also sure that this Jake fellow is the one for you.”
The breakfast muffin, which I’d thought would have been digested by now, takes another spin around my stomach. “It’s not that simple.”
“He’s Robby’s brother, right?” His mouth twists in disgust.
Not a big fan of Robby, it seems.
“Yes. See? Complicated!”
He doesn’t argue with me, like all my girlfriends have done, instead humming under his breath and nodding. “It’s not ideal.”
An understatement.
“But, not insurmountable, if you both want it? I guess that’s the question; do you want it? Him?”
Yes!my brain screams at me. Yes, I want him!
“I think so,” I say over my screeching brain. “But I also think that I’ve got a lot to work through before I let him, or anyone, in.” I tap my head to show where exactly I’m messed up, and he nods again.
“I know exactly how you feel.” And the funny thing is, I believe him. “Bella terrified me when we first met. I was scared of how I felt for her, scared to let her in, scared to have her leave me. I was in a permanent state of panic for months.”
“So, how did you get over the fear?” I’m dying for him to give me the answers. To sort out this jumble for me.
“I didn’t have a choice,” he says simply. “I had to be with her. And that fear? That fear of losing the person you love? Of being hurt? It never goes away. It’s just that all the good times, all the joy they bring to your life, all the love they pour into you, it drowns it out. Makes it easier to live with.” He stops to draw breath and I wipe at the tears gathering in my eyes. “Being with someone, really being with them, doesn’t suddenly make you all better, instead it makes you want to be better. For them. For her.”
He smiles behind me, a look of pure adoration on his handsome face.
“You turning into a counsellor now?” Bella asks him from the doorway, her voice husky with emotion. She must have heard the bulk of his advice to me, and if she’s anything like me, she must be melting inside.
“Just trying to help,” he grins at her, the smile that’s just for Bella. “Like Amelia did for us, when you were panicking and threatening to leave me.”
A warmth fills me at this reminder of the minor role I played in the two of them getting together. Really, I was just a sounding board for when Bella was behaving like a crazy in love person, but I think it helped. They’re married now, so it can’t have hurt.
“You’re a good man,” she says, walking over and planting a soft kiss on his lips. “And I bet you’re dying to spend the day watching Love, Actually with us, aren’t you?”
He pulls her onto the couch in between us, tickling her while she giggles helplessly. “I think I’ll pass,” he yells over his shoulder as he makes a mad dash out of the living room, almost as if he feared we’d tie him down and force him to watch it.
Maybe Bella’s done that to him in the past?
“So was his advice useful?” she asks once she’s got her breath back. “Anything resonating with you?”
All of it.
“I think so. The part about feeling the fear and doing it anyway, that definitely struck a chord with me. I just need to get over myself and be brave.”
She snuggles into my side. “It’s not the easiest thing to do. Be kind to yourself, you’ll get there.”
“Thank you, Bella.”
“You’re welcome. You know I’m here for you always.”
Her words warm my heart. “So, let’s just watch the movie and forget about my boy troubles for a couple of hours.”
She grins. “Done. You’re going to love this movie.”
And she’s right. From the very first scene, I’m hooked. My attention is glued to the screen, watching Colin Firth fall in love through a language barrier, Emma Thompson’s husband emotionally cheat on her (that scene almost broke me), Keira Knightly being serenaded with handwritten signs and the little boy learning to play the drums to woo his teenage crush. But it’s the relationship between Hugh Grant, the Prime Minister, and his secretary, Natalie, that really has me enthralled. It’s funny, and it’s sweet and it’s just so charming.
“I can’t believe he had her fired,” I mumble through a mouthful of popcorn that Daniel had thoughtfully delivered to us halfway through the movie. “What an idiot.”
“Shush, just wait,” Bella pats my hand and we resume watching.
I watch, hugging a pillow to me, as Hugh Grant’s character regrets his decision to let the woman he loves go, how he sits down to read a bunch of Christmas cards and how one of them is from her.
“I’m actually yours,” the voice of Natalie reads the words of her card to him in her delightful British accent and my body is zapped like it’s been hit by lightning.
“What did she say?” I ask, my voice scratchy.
“Huh?” Bella’s eyes are glued to the TV, completely ignoring the lightbulb moment I’m having on my side of the couch.
“The Christmas card? What did she say?”
She looks at me, her eyes widening as she takes in my nervous breakdown in progress. “Let me rewind.”
We watch the scene going backward, coming to a halt when the Christmas card is in view. We listen to the voice of Natalie again, reading out the words written on her card: “Particularly because (if you can’t say it at Christmas, when can you eh?)—I’m actually yours. With love, your Natalie.”
“That’s it.”
Bella pauses the movie, turning her body to face me. “What’s it?”
“All this time…” I mutter under my breath, the hamster wheel in my head turning furiously.
“All this time what?” She’s impatient.
“All this time, I was actually his.” I look at her, imploring her to understand.
She doesn’t. “Actually whose?”
I think back on that first night, the way my heart raced when our eyes connected, the way I prayed he was my match, the way my brain stuttered to a halt at his mere presence. It was him. It’s always been him.
“Jake. I’ve always been his.”
Bella grins at me, a smile so wide it looks like it hurts. “Really?”
A smile grows on my face. “I’m so dumb. It’s been him all along.”
“This makes me so happy!”
My smile drops, panic replacing my joy. “I’m actually his.” I repeat the words, absorbing the enormity behind them. It’s not about a crush, or even just liking him, he’s it for me. I’m his.
“OK, good, you’re actually his.” Bella runs a soothing hand over my arm, her touch anchoring me in place. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
I pick my phone up off the table, almost in slow motion, and tap on my text message chain with Jake.
AMELIA: Can we talk?