Chapter Fifteen #3
Amelia now saw the whatever in a whole different light. A defence mechanism. A way to mask any vulnerability. It was so damn obvious to her now.
“Well, what’s done is done,” Amelia said on a sigh. What was the point in condemning Bridget who had deludedly thought she was doing good? It wouldn’t erase the photo from people’s feeds or their minds.
“Are we still best friends?” Bridget asked matter-of-factly, suddenly very interested in something on her phone.
Amelia felt like best friends was a bit of a stretch, but clearly Bridget Clemonte was much more sensitive than Amelia had ever given her credit for.
So she went with it. “Sure.” Yes, she had done the shittiest thing imaginable, but her heart had been in the right place.
Amelia understood that, despite how fucked up the whole thing was.
Amelia expected a smile. An apology. A hug.
Anything. But there was zero reaction. In fact, Bridget’s face didn’t move an inch as she pocketed her phone.
“Yes, well. I hope you’re not going to milk those injuries for too long and hold up the entire filming schedule.
I’m not staying in this freezing country for longer than I have to.
A true professional would be able to battle through a few bruises. ”
And equilibrium in the universe was restored. Amelia almost smiled at Bridget’s reproach. “I would hate to inconvenience you in any way.”
“Hmm. I’m going to check if Christopher is here with the car yet.” Bridget made for the door. “We’ll be waiting for you if you ever get discharged. These doctors are the slowest.”
“And in the meantime, I’m going to text Imogen and tell her who the culprit behind all this is.” Bridget looked back and Amelia pointedly raised an eyebrow at her.
“Yes, well. I’m sure she’ll remember me as more than just the bus stop lady now.
” Bridget stuck her nose in the air and strutted out onto the corridor.
Ah-ha. Amelia had known Imogen’s comment had hit a nerve last night.
Maybe that had been another factor in Bridget deciding to post the photo.
Who knew how the interior of Bridget’s mind worked? Certainly not Amelia, it seemed.
She had to tell Imogen it was Bridget. Not out of spite or anything. Imogen probably thought she had a photographer following her around, and she’d be looking over her shoulder for the next week if Amelia didn’t tell her the truth. Besides, she deserved to know.
I found out that Bridget took the photo. I’m so sorry.
There was no point in explaining away any of Bridget’s intentions. None of it would appease Imogen anyway. Bridget had done what she had done for Amelia. Because she cared about her. Who knew?
Before Amelia managed to set her phone down, it vibrated in her hand. She let out a heavy sigh. That was the thing about being caught up in scandals or news stories, the damn phone never stopped.
She wasn’t surprised to see Veronica’s name when she looked down at the caller ID.
Amelia already had her dose of Helen earlier.
In fact, Helen had been the first caller of the day, which had been impressive given the time difference.
Then again, Helen was probably too busy for silly things like sleeping.
“Hey, V,” Amelia said as she swiped onto the call.
“I heard you were hurt,” Veronica said immediately. “Helen said it’s not as bad as it could have been. Thank God.” She sounded genuinely relieved.
Amelia gave her the quick rundown of what happened. “Don’t worry. I’ll be healed in no time.”
“All the same, I think that answers our dilemma about the action flick. I’ll put a call into the studio and tell them you’re unable at this time.”
A message buzzed through while Veronica was speaking, and Amelia instinctively pulled the phone away from her ear to check it.
No need to be sorry, Amy. None of this is your fault. Even so, I don’t think I can do this. You have no idea how much I wish I could. I care about you so much, but I don’t think I’m strong enough to put myself out there again. I’m sorry.
Amelia felt her heart leap into her stomach. She had been expecting it, but seeing the words in black and white still hurt more than all of her injuries put together.
“Amelia?” she heard faintly, remembering Veronica was still on the line.
“Sorry, Veronica,” she said hollowly, suddenly numb. Devastation would come. She would probably cry her eyes out when she was alone. Scream perhaps. Throw things. But for now, she had…nothing. “What were you saying?”
“I’m pulling you out of the running for Don’t Cross Her,” Veronica said impatiently. She clearly wasn’t used to repeating herself.
“No,” Amelia said immediately. “Tell them I’ll do it.”
“But your injuries—”
“Let me worry about getting my body ready,” she said firmly.
“Tell them I’ll do the movie.” Amelia had no reason to hang around Ireland any longer than it took her to finish up with Always the Bridesmaid.
Not anymore. And after that message, burying herself in more work sounded more appealing than ever.
Some things hurt a hell of a lot more than healing broken bones.