CHAPTER 17 Amelia
Amelia
“So, you still haven’t heard from him?” Sammi shouts, trying to be heard over the rowdy noise in the bar where we’ve met for Thursday night after-work drinks.
I nibble on the chicken wing that has just been delivered to our table and shake my head. It’s been four full days and Jake still hasn’t messaged me back. The situation is dire.
“What you need is a plan,” Madi says, making up our trio of single women who don’t have yummy husbands to go home to at the end of a long day.
I close my eyes. “Not another plan.”
If I hear that word ‘plan’ one more time, I’m going to scream.
“No, but seriously, what are you going to do?”
Madi and Sammi look at me expectantly, and I flounder. In the past twenty-four hours, I’d reconciled with my father after almost ten years of distance and had a breakthrough with my mother that was a long time coming.
After leaving my dad, with promises to visit him and his family soon, I’d dropped in to see my mum, hellbent on getting some answers. That conversation had been painful, but I’d entered into it with an open mind and open heart, willing to listen and to forgive. My mum wasn’t trying to be a bad person when she kept me from my dad, she was just a person desperately trying to cling on to me, scared I would leave her, too. We cried together, and we really heard each other and by the end, we’d reached a resolution of sorts. She knows I want to have a relationship with my dad and my stepmother and sisters, and that I won’t be dealing with her toxicity anymore, and she also knows that I will always love her and will never leave her. It was a moment of cleansing and clarity, and it was a long time coming.
And in amongst all this familial healing, my phone had remained resolutely silent. Not one word from Jake.
“I don’t know, guys. Shouldn’t I take his lack of answer as his answer? That he doesn’t want to deal with me?”
Sammi immediately shakes her head, the eternal optimist, while Madi takes a little longer with her answer.
“You may be right,” she says finally, earning a death glare from Sammi. “But he also may just be too scared to reply. You know that text message is like a walking red flag. No one wants to have ‘the talk’.”
“It’s not ‘the talk’,” I say, frustrated. “It’s just a talk. That’s why text messages are the bane of my existence. There’s no tone to clue one in on the intention behind the message. I just want to explain myself to him.”
“Then it’s up to you to make it happen,” Sammi says. “You need to put yourself out there.”
My stomach takes a turn in the tumble dryer. I may be on my way to being all emotionally healed and stuff, but am I emotionally stable enough to put myself out there completely? I’m not sure.
“Why me?”
“Let me count the ways.” Sammi counts on her fingers. “One, you choose his brother over him. Two, you indulged in a dating plan when he was literally right there. Three, you kissed him and then ran away like a frightened mouse. And four, you sent him the death knell of all text messages. I mean, come on Amelia. ‘Can we talk?’ It’s like the worst message to send to a man. Especially considering points one through three.”
She has a point. Sammi, with her impromptu presentation of all the colossal mistakes I’d made with Jake, has really highlighted that the ball is in fact in my court.
“What should I do?”
Madi orders us a round of drinks, while Sammi rests her chin on her hand, a pensive look on her pretty face.
“It needs to be something that makes your feeling clear, while not being over the top,” she starts, while I gratefully take a sip from the glass of wine that’s just been placed in front of me. If we’re doing this, I’m going to need some liquid courage.
“Something classy. That will tell him what he needs to know, but also give him breathing room to reply.”
That sounds like mission impossible. I tell them this, worried that we’ve made this more complicated than it needs to be.
“No, we’ll figure something out,” says Sammi, patting my hand. “You’ll see.”
The three of us sit in silence. I watch their thinking faces, wondering why I can’t just go to Jake’s place and tell him how I feel?
“I’ve got it!” Sammi yells so loudly that I jump, spilling my wine down my shirt. Lucky it is black and not my favourite or else I’d have another thing to be upset about tonight.
“Tell us!” Madi looks excited, which makes me think the alcohol has got to her. She’s usually the level-headed one in the group.
“I’ll be right back.” Sammi picks up her bag and dashes to the door, making a sharp right when she gets out onto the street and then disappearing out of view.
“Where’s she going?”
Madi shrugs, looking as baffled as I feel, and we sit in silence together, watching the door.
“Do you think she’s coming back?”
“Surely,” Madi says, her eyebrows furrowed. “She walked out mid-sentence. That can’t be it.”
No sooner are the words out of Madi’s mouth when we see Sammi prancing back into the bar, a paper bag in her hand.
“Where did you go?” I ask before she’s even sat down.
She places the bag in front of me. “It’s perfect. Look inside.”
Curious, I open the bag and pull out a pack of Christmas cards. Huh?
“Huh?”
Sammi sighs like she’s disappointed in me. “Think about it. What made you realise Jake is the one? That you are actually his?”
Her words jolt me. A Christmas card? Of course!
“You think I should write how I feel about him? Like Natalie in Love, Actually?”
Madi and Sammi give me matching grins, nodding enthusiastically. “It’s perfect. Don’t you think?”
I look at the card on top of the pile. There’s a glitter-covered Santa Claus with the words ‘ho, ho, ho,’ coming out of his mouth in a speech bubble. It’s the least romantic thing I’ve ever seen, and Sammi is right. It is perfect.
Pushing my hair behind my ears, I settle into my seat. “Do either of you have a pen?”
*****
“You guys don’t have to wait for me.”
The three of us are piled into the back of an Uber, which has driven our tipsy butts from the bar to Jake’s house. After we’d hunted down a pen, I’d gotten to work, pouring all my feelings onto the pint-sized Christmas card, telling Jake everything on paper that I’d been too scared to say to him in person.
“Are you sure?” Sammi has her face pressed against the window, looking at Jake’s house, a wistful expression on your face. “I’d love to watch this all go down.”
“Me too!” This comes from Sandra, our Uber driver, who is fully aware of the purpose of this excursion. And she’s completely on board. “I won’t even charge you guys. This is the most excitement I’ve had in the six months that I’ve been doing this.”
In addition to learning all about me and my love mission, we’d learnt all about Sandra’s life as an ex-school teacher who in her 50s has started down this new career path as a ride share driver.
“None of you need to stay.” I’m adamant, pushing Sammi to open the door and let me out from my position, squished in the middle. “I’m going to do this, and hopefully, if all goes well, I won’t need a ride home.”
My friends love this idea, Sammi scrambling to get out of the way, while I hop/slide after her, trying not to flash my underwear as I go. Not the best day to wear this cute, but impractical leather mini-skirt.
“Love you, ladies. Thank you for your support.” I wave to Madi, who’s remained in the backseat, grinning wildly, before hugging Sammi tightly. “Thanks for listening and for coming up with this brilliant Christmas card idea. I hope it works.”
“It will!” Sandra, my newest cheerleader, yells from the driver’s seat. “He’d be a fool to turn you away.”
Taking this confidence from Sandra the stranger, I straighten my shoulders and walk to the front door, remembering the last time I’d marched down this very pathway, on my way to yell at Robby. How much has my life—my love life—changed since the last time I was here? My friends in their Uber yell good luck to me and Sandra honks the horn goodbye, and then there is silence. Just me and the front door.
Holding the Christmas card love letter in my sweaty hand, I take a deep breath, blow it out, and knock. Once, twice, and then a third time. And then I wait.
“Amelia?”
It’s been five painfully long days since he’d been in his tuxedo, walking away from me to give me space, and in that time, he’s grown even more gorgeous. More perfect looking. More perfect for me.
“Hi.”
My word comes out as a squeak and I clear my throat.
“Hi,” I squeak out again. Much better.
He looks behind me before taking my hand and pulling me inside.
“Are you OK?”
My eyes are stuck on him; it’s been less than a week and I’ve missed him. “You didn’t message me back.”
He looks at the phone in his hand. “I know.”
Hmm, not off to a great start.I stop in the hallway, determined to get through this. To get through to him.
“Why?”
He runs his hand through this thick hair, making a mess of it as he goes. “Many reasons. Mainly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what you had to say.”
Well, that’s me stumped. He doesn’t want to hear me out?
“Come on.” He takes my hand in his—bliss—and guides me to the couch. “Let’s sit.”
I sink into the squishy couch cushions and take courage from Bella’s painting staring at me from the wall. He had spent all those months at the Love, Lilly café waiting for me; those sorts of feelings don’t just disappear in a week. Surely.
“I’m sorry.” An apology is a good place to start. “About freaking out on you and panicking and then apparently sending the world’s scariest text message the next day.”
His dimple pops in his cheek. “Those are the three most frightening words a man can hear from a woman.”
“So I’ve just found out.”
“I’m sorry too. I should have called. There’s just been a lot going on and, like I said, I’m not sure I’m ready to talk to you. In case…” he trails off, his eyes darting away from me.
“In case?”
“In case I don’t like what you have to say.”
And that’s it. He’s being vulnerable and laying his fears on the table. Perhaps he’s been scared that I was going to reject him and he wanted to put it off for as long as possible?
“Did you think it would be bad news?”
His mouth twists. “I wasn’t sure.”
I feel a literal twinge in my heart that he’d gone all this time thinking that I’d run away from him and that my message meant I wanted to keep running.
It’s time for me to be brave.
“I need to be clear with you.” I pause, gathering my thoughts. It’s now or never. “When I stopped all the lovely kissing.” He lights up. “It wasn’t because I wanted it to stop. It’s because I didn’t want it to stop.”
He looks confused. Do better with the explaining, Amelia.
“The intensity of what I was feeling in that moment scared me.”
There. That should be clear enough.
“It scared me too. Everything about you scares me.” His voice is gruff and I shuffle closer to him. “But I had hoped you may have felt safe enough with me to at least stay and talk it through. I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me, Millie.”
There is well-deserved reproach in his voice. “I know. And I know I messed up, but that’s who I am. I’m the girl with a bucket load of emotional baggage who gets scared sometimes.”
He smiles, edging closer to me. “I happen to be very good at carrying heavy loads. Maybe I can help you with that?”
“I’d like that.”
Jake’s handsome face, made more delectable by his two-day-old stubble, inches slowly closer to mine. So slowly that I want to grab it and plant my lips on his.
So, I do. After five days of not kissing Jake, I allow myself to get lost in the feeling of it. Of his lips moving against mine, so perfectly perfect that I can’t hold in a sigh. A sigh of pure contentment, of being lost in the moment, of—
“What the hell is going on here?”
An angry voice tries to penetrate through the bliss I’m feeling and, determined not to let anything ruin this moment, I ignore it. And keep kissing this man who I love so much.
“Jake? What is this?”
Jake pulls his lips from mine, jumps to standing, and flushes a deep shade of red. I press my fingers to my lips, wishing they were still on Jake’s lips, and turn to face the source of this interruption so we can get back to all the kissing.
Robby.
Oh no.
“Robby,” Jake starts, backing away from me in small steps. “I—ah—we.” He stops.
“Were you and Amelia kissing?” Robby spits out the last word with disgust and disbelief, and I gulp in a mouthful of air.
“I—ah,” Jake tries again. And fails to say anything.
Looks like I’ll be doing the talking.
“Hi, Robby.” I wave to get his attention from where it’s currently trained on Jake with furious intent. “Yes, I was kissing your brother.”
Robby’s face twists with fury. “What is going on? How long has this been going on? Were you two together behind my back when we were dating?”
That he would even think this, let alone ask this of the two of us, illustrates clearly how little he knows his own brother. And how he clearly never knew me.
“Of course not,” I tell him while Jake continues to look on, frozen in place. “And I’m sorry you had to see that, but this just happened. And you and I? We’ve been done for a long time.”
He shoots his brother another filthy look before stepping towards me. “Amelia, this can’t be right. You and him? He’s my brother…”
I give him a hard stare. “So?”
“So?” he splutters. “So, you guys can’t be together. It’s wrong.”
My stomach flips as he articulates what I’d been grappling with for all these weeks. The obstacle I’ve finally gotten over.
“Robby, did you dump me? Out of the blue and then ghost me for six months?”
He doesn’t respond, his mouth set in a mutinous line.
“And did you, or did you not cheat on me several times during our brief relationship?”
His face reddens and he looks down while Jake lets out a growl. I knew it! What a cheating jerk.
“And do you currently have a girlfriend? Who you were with when you left me that note? Proving that you cannot be trusted, not by me, and certainly not by the poor girl you’re currently with.”
Robby’s mouth opens and closes, like he’s a dead fish gasping for air.
“So, given all of this, do you think you have one leg to stand on when questioning me or your brother, who, by the way, is the most upstanding man I’ve ever met?” I ask this last question with an anger like I’ve never known swirling around my brain. My anger is so hot, I’m seeing red dots dance in front of my eyes. How dare Robby ever question the integrity of someone like Jake? It’s ridiculous.
“It’s still not right,” he mutters, his tone belligerent. “Isn’t there some sort of bro code?”
He’s looking at his brother and Jake’s lack of response has doubt creeping up my spine. Why isn’t he saying anything? Why isn’t he standing up for me? For us?
“Amelia,” Jake finally speaks up, addressing me instead of his brother. “I think I need to talk to Robby.”
His voice is flat, so I can’t read into what he means. Does he want space to talk to Robby to plead our case? Or does he want me to go, so he can make amends with his brother, effectively kicking me to the curb?
“Um, ok?” I lock eyes with his, desperately trying to read his thoughts. “You want me to go?”
He gives me a pained look—finally, some emotion—and nods. “I think it’s for the best.”
What’s for the best?my brain screams.
“OK,” I say out loud. “I’ll order an Uber.”
The three of us remain standing in position as I order and then wait for my ride, the silence dripping with tension.
“It’s here, waiting for me outside.” I show my app to Jake, not knowing what else to do with my hands, and walk to the door. Before I open the front door, I turn to look at Robby, who embodies everything I’ve been doing wrong in the love department for the longest time and something snaps in me.
“Robby,” I start, my voice trembling. “You may think you have the moral high ground here, but you really don’t. You treated me terribly when we were together and I let you. That’s on me. But I know better and I will choose better.” I glance at Jake whose eyes are shining at me. “You need to grow up and learn that actions have consequences. This is your consequence, you lost me. A loyal, amazing, funny, loving woman. And your loss will be another man’s gain. I just hope that that man is your brother.” I pull in a mouthful of air, my knees shaking. Did I really just say all of that? Jake’s stunned expression suggests I did.
“And one other thing.” My Uber driver honks the horn, and I open the front door and wave to him. “I am over you. And that, my friend, is closure.”
With my oh-so-excellent Friends reference ringing in my ears (Bella is going to love this, we recently binged all ten seasons and loved this Rachel Green moment), I flounce out of the house with Jake hot on my heels.
“I’m sorry about all of this.” He takes my wrist in his strong hand, halting all my fabulous flouncing.
“It’s OK.” I glance back to where Robby is still standing, his jaw on the floor. “I know you have a lot to sort through here. I’ll go.”
He nods but doesn’t let me go. I look up at him and wait for his next move. Has he changed his mind? Does he want me to stay? How does he feel about me? About Robby? About this entire mess?
“I’ll call you.” He says nothing to assuage my fears.
Blinking tears away, my girl power moment well and truly behind me, I take a step away from him, only then realising what I still have clutched in my hand. How had I forgotten the Christmas card?
I hand over what is now a crumpled mess of red cardboard paper with some soggy, smudged writing on the envelope. “Here, take this.”
He frowns down at it. “What is it?”
I shove it at him before I lose the nerve. My heart is written in that card, and it scares the life out of me to give it to him. Especially now, in light of the Robby debacle.
“Just read it. Later, perhaps. When you’ve dealt with all of that.” I gesture to where Robby is standing, now glaring at us. “I’ve got to go.”
Running down the path towards my waiting car, I refuse to turn back to where I know Jake is watching me. This has not gone as expected, but now that Jake has my Christmas card, my love letter to him, in his hands, the ball is well and truly in his court.
I just hope he’s able to find his way out of the drama and come back to me.