Chapter 38 Amelia
amelia
. . .
The glow of Love Island flickers on Catalina’s TV, with a blonde in a bikini yelling about loyalty as captions scroll nearby. Catalina’s curled up with a blanket and a bowl of popcorn, and I’m wedged beside her, trying to pretend my chest isn’t collapsing.
She narrows her eyes at me, one dark brow raised as she digs into the popcorn. “Okay, I have to say it.” She points a buttery finger at me. “You were being a bitch to Maverick.”
The popcorn halfway to my mouth freezes. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” She flicks a kernel in my direction, dramatic as fuck. “Why did you say those mean things? And fake marriage? Did you lose your fucking mind?”
My chest seizes, heat climbing up my neck. “Catalina—”
She leans forward, dropping the popcorn bowl onto the coffee table with a thud. “Don’t even try to argue. I’ve known you forever, Amelia. I know when you’re lying, and I know when you’re pushing someone away just to save yourself the pain later. And that’s exactly what you’re doing with Maverick.”
“Cat…” I shake my head, throat tight, panic sparking. “I can’t—”
From the kitchen, a low chuckle cuts through. Carter’s leaning against the counter, beer in hand, watching with a smirk tugging at his mouth.
“Love it when you get fired up, baby,” he drawls, smug as sin.
Catalina whirls around, glaring. “Seriously? Shove your dick in your pants, later, baby.”
He grins wider, takes a slow sip, eyes gleaming.
I groan, pulling the blanket over my head. “Why are you both like this?”
Catalina yanks it right off me. “Nope. You don’t get to hide. You can roll your eyes, you can groan, but you’re gonna fucking listen to me.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Okay, okay, I’m listening.”
She smirks, smug as hell. “Good.”
Carter’s chuckle rumbles low, but his gaze sharpens as it locks onto me. “Don’t fuckin’ ice him out, Amelia. You hurt him, you answer to me.”
Catalina swats at his arm, shooting him a look.
“I’ve got this.” Then she turns back to me, eyes burning.
“You think I don’t notice? You’re overthinking yourself into a corner.
Maverick isn’t Jax. He’s not gonna gaslight you or ditch you.
He loves you, Amelia. Loudly. And you’re too fucking scared to believe it. ”
My throat locks, eyes burning as I whisper, “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to let someone stay. Every time I think I can—I hear Jax in my head, and I…” My voice cracks, breaking apart.
Catalina is instantly there, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me close. “You’re not broken,” she says intensely, rocking me like a sister would. “Jax doesn’t get to own you anymore. Maverick already showed you who he is. Let him prove it.”
I sob against her shoulder, messy and raw. It’s humiliating, but it’s real.
When I finally pull back, wiping my face with my sweater's sleeve, my voice is hoarse but steady. “I should go see him.”
Catalina doesn’t hesitate, nodding firmly. “Finally, coming to your senses, bitch.”
From the kitchen, Carter puts his sweet tea down, crossing his arms as he watches me with those intense, steady eyes. The smirk has disappeared, replaced by something quieter and heavier. He gives me a single nod.
“Will you two… will you drop me off?” My voice trembles, but the words are out now, heavier than anything I’ve ever said.
Catalina squeezes my hand. “Of course we will.”
Carter grabs his keys off the counter, the jingle sharp in the quiet. “Let’s go,” he mutters, though his gaze lingers on me just long enough to make my chest ache.
The ride begins quietly, with only the low hum of Carter’s truck and the faint shuffle of country music on the radio. I sit in the backseat, arms wrapped around myself, watching the hills roll by through the window.
Catalina twists in the passenger seat, her long hair brushing over her shoulder as she looks at me.
“Alright, here’s the deal. You don’t get to go in there and clam up.
You don’t get to ghost him again. You look that man in the eyes and you talk to him, even if it’s hard.
Communicate, Amelia, don’t be one of those girls who ghost and run off. ”
I frown, pressing my forehead to the cool glass. “What if I don’t know what to say?”
“Then say that.” Her voice is firm, no-nonsense. “Maverick doesn’t need polished. He doesn’t need perfect. He just needs you.”
Carter makes a low sound in his throat, something between a grunt and agreement, but he doesn’t say anything. His hands grip the wheel tight, with his jaw working as if he’s biting back words.
Catalina keeps going. “And listen, Amelia—if it gets too hard, if you feel like you’re drowning, you text me. You don’t run, you don’t shut down—you call. I’ll pick you up myself if I have to.”
Her tone softens then. “You’re my best friend. I love you. And I’ll always make space for you in my home, no matter what. But Maverick? He’s my family now, too. And I’ve watched him come alive since you. You walk away from him; you’re not just hurting him. You’re hurting yourself.”
I blink hard, my throat aching, because I know she’s right. I’ve been running since the second Maverick told me how he felt, since the second he slid this ring on my finger. And running hasn’t made the fear go away. It’s only made the ache sharper.
Carter’s truck turns onto a familiar road, pebbles crunching under the tires. My heart jumps into my throat when Maverick’s house comes into view—the dark farmhouse perched against the hills, its windows glowing warmly in the gray morning. It looks steady. Like him.
And I’ve never felt more unsteady in my life.
Carter slows to a stop in the driveway, putting the truck in park, and glances at me in the rearview mirror, his blue eyes steady and piercing. “Don’t run,” he says, like it’s an order.
Catalina turns back to me again, reaching for my hand and squeezing it tightly. “Text me if you need to leave. I’ll be waiting. But try, Amelia. Please. Try.”
I nod as I run my sweaty palms against my jeans. Because the truth is, I don’t know if I’m strong enough to stay.
I know I’m being stubborn. I can feel myself acting like a raging bitch, but for so long, I’ve convinced myself that all men are the same.
And now, the one man who has been there time and time again, probably doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore, with my actions and the hurtful words I’ve said to him.
I wave goodbye to Carter and Catalina as his huge truck accelerates out of the driveway, the sound of pebbles dispersing in the distance.
Sighing, I saunter towards Mavericks’ house. The porch light is still on, casting a warm glow on the worn, wooden steps.
I make my way up the steps, standing in front of the door, and enter the numerical code. The lock buzzes, letting me inside.
Cupcake greets me right away, licking my ankles. I lower myself and scratch behind her ear. Rex trots over, chirping and bumping his head against my knee.
“Hi, babies, I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”
I push off my knees to stand, scanning the living room, only to find it empty.
The house is eerily quiet and spotless as usual. Lemon all-purpose cleaner permeates the air as I make my way around the house.
I walk through the house, my bare feet softly pressing against the hardwood. It has a faint smell of him—his cologne lingering on the couch, the kitchen counters, the walls—and it’s maddening. I half expect him to come in through the back door, with his goofy grin, calling my name.
But there’s nothing—just silence.
“Mav?” I call out.
Nothing.
I climb the stairs, each step feels like I’m dragging the weight of all the things I haven’t said. I make my way to the dresser, the golden knob cool in my hand.
My fingers sift through the dresser until I find Maverick’s old, worn jersey. I instinctively grab it and head toward the bathroom.
I don’t have the energy to think anymore.
But the second I step into the bathroom, I freeze.
There’s a piece of paper propped against the mirror. A simple, folded note, with edges frayed like someone’s been holding it too tightly. My fingers shake as I pick it up.
I don’t know if you’ll see this or not, but I miss you. God, I miss you so much it fucking hurts. Please, tell me what to do to fix this. I’ll do anything, baby, please don’t run.
It’s stupid how quickly my throat closes. My vision blurs, my breath catches, and suddenly I’m fighting back tears that ache before they fall.
I steady my hand on the marble counter as the note trembles between my fingers. God, I know it wasn’t fair to switch up on him. The way I shoved that ring back into his pocket like it didn’t mean a fucking thing.
I can’t stop replaying it.
His sweet, dopey face stared back at me like I’d just destroyed his entire world without saying a word. His eyes conveyed enough, with tears clinging to his lash line and reddening as he swallowed past the lump.
It broke me. And I’m so stupid. What’s wrong with you, Amelia?
I shake my head and let out a long, heavy sigh. Setting the note down, I peel off my jeans and pull on Maverick’s worn jersey—still faintly smelling of whatever detergent he uses. It hangs loosely on me, the fabric swallowing me whole.
I tell myself it’s just because I want to be comfortable, but part of me knows I miss how it feels to be wrapped up in him.
A contract binds us. Legally married.
It hasn’t felt like the performance we’ve been delivering, and that freaks me out more than anything else.
I carefully put the note back on the counter, but my fingers linger a moment too long. My chest tightens with that deep, heavy ache, reminding me I’m already too involved.
The mirror reveals the slight puffiness under my eyes, the tension around my mouth, and how tightly I’ve been holding myself—it’s a wonder I can breathe at all.
I twist my hair into a messy bun and go through the motions—cleanser, toner, the familiar glide of moisturizer.
It’s automatic, muscle memory, but my mind isn’t here.
Every time my hands brush my face, I think of how he used to.
Gentle. Certain. Like he was learning me.
The gentle scent of my night cream lingers on my skin as I head back into the bedroom. Walking barefoot down the stairs, each step makes the wood creak. I want to grab something to eat, maybe drown out my racing thoughts with crunch from a granola bar or a spoonful of peanut butter.
But the second I step into the kitchen, I freeze.
Maverick is there.