Chapter Eleven
Amelia
“Is there a reason you’re callin’ before the sun’s up?” I mutter into my phone after the fourth time. I don’t usually leave it on at night, but I forgot to silence it before passing out.
“Amelia?”
My eyes pop open at the familiar voice I haven’t heard in almost a decade.
“Are you there?” she asks when I stay silent. “Amelia, please. Don’t hang up.”
I clear my throat, pushing myself up against the headboard and bracing for a conversation I don’t want to have this early. “What do you want, mother?”
“Where’s your etiquette? Do you have any idea how much time and money I’ve spent on a private detective tryin’ to find you?”
“Not a clue,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes. “It must be important if you’ve put in that much energy into hirin’ someone.”
“You gave me no choice by changin’ your name and movin’ ’round. It was a miracle he found you.”
I don’t care enough to ask how he did or got my number because the sooner this conversation is over, the better for my anxiety.
“Well, he did. Whaddya need? Another kidney? Or would you like to guilt-trip me into a limb this time?”
“Don’t be impudent.” She scoffs. “It’s your father. He’s very ill.”
“Probably from alcoholism,” I murmur. “Or is it lung cancer?”
If he wasn’t drinking, he was smoking. And in between, finding ways to ruin my life.
“I thought you’d like to come see him before it’s too late.” Her voice cracks slightly. “He doesn’t have long.”
“Why? Has he suddenly remembered he has a daughter?”
“Mind your tongue, Amelia,” she snaps, causing my heart to jump.
“Me? Do you even care to know you have a granddaughter? Or to ask how I’m doin’?”
“I planned on it before you got snappy.” She sighs deeply, the silence lingering until she speaks again, this time more softly. “What’s her name?”
“Lily.”
“After Grandmama?” she asks, surprised.
“Yes.”
It always amazes me how such a horrible person could come from a wonderful, selfless woman. After my divorce, I didn’t want to go back to my maiden name, so I changed it to my grandma’s. I hate that she died before she could meet my kids, but I know she’d be honored that Lily is her namesake.
“How old is she?”
“She’s three. Sam is eight.”
“You named him after Samuel.” She sniffs. “Wow.”
“Yeah, well, you would’ve known that had you not kicked me out before he was born.”
“Amelia, please. Let’s not do this right now.”
“When would be the appropriate time for you, mother?”
She clears her throat, and I slightly feel bad for upsetting her when Dad isn’t doing well.
“You should bring ’em with you. I’d love to meet my grandchildren.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her hell no, but there’s a part of me that wants to show her how great my life’s been without them in it. That I didn’t need them. And how much they missed out on because they were horrible parents.
But considering my current situation of hiding out in a leisure treehouse, I’m not sure I have the confidence to pretend I have it all together and everything’s perfect.
“I’ll have to think ’bout it,” I tell her honestly.
A part of me doesn’t want to live with the guilt of not seeing him one last time and live with the what-ifs, but the other part hates that she’s putting me in this position after they abandoned me.
“Alright, well…whatever you decide, our door’s open.”
I almost laugh at the irony.
“I’ll let you know,” I say instead, choking back tears. “I gotta go.”
After hanging up, I save her number in my contacts and stare at it. It’s not the same one she had years ago, which means even if I wanted to call or needed their help, I wouldn’t have been able to reach her.
I drag myself out of bed and into the bathroom.
The bags under my eyes and my pale skin remind me how tired I am, not physically, but mentally.
Being under the stress of my life being uprooted and not feeling safe or able to protect my own kids is wearing me down.
I meant to go to bed earlier last night but ended up staying awake two hours past my normal time.
When I made tea for Colton and me last night, I anticipated going to bed shortly after, like I usually do.
But then he came out shirtless and smelling like fresh soap, and I couldn’t resist waiting to see how he liked his drink.
I put in my usual additions, but this time added a sprinkle of cinnamon.
We sat in silence for a while before we started talking. Then, before I knew it, midnight rolled around, and I was still awake.
Before we parted ways, he asked if it’d be all right for him to have tea with me again the following night. Although it’s a bad idea, especially since my willpower to keep him at arm’s length is getting weaker, I agreed to it.
Once I crawled under the covers, I couldn’t fall asleep. So now here I am, staring at the reflection of someone who gives the word haggard a run for its money.
A knock on the bathroom door startles me, and then I’m greeted with the same bare-chested Colton in the doorway.
“You okay?” he asks cautiously.
I nod, averting my gaze so he can’t tell I’m lying. “Just tired.”
“Go back to bed. I’ll get the kids fed and dressed for the day. I told Sam we could do some fun stuff at the ranch today anyway, so you can have some alone time with Lily if you want. But we won’t go for another couple hours if you wanna get some more rest.”
“Not sure I could even if I tried,” I murmur. “Got an unexpected call this mornin’.”
He strides toward me, concern etched across his chiseled face. “What happened? Who was it?”
I blow out a strained breath, not wanting to talk about it, but he won’t let it go unless I tell him. “My egg donor.”
“Your what?”
I huff a laugh. “My mother.”
“Oh. I thought y’all were no contact.”
“She hired a PI to find me so she could tell me my father is dyin’ and wants me to come home to say my goodbyes. I dunno. It was a weird conversation. I-I wasn’t very pleasant.”
“You don’t owe her pleasantries, but wait, go back. She hired someone to find you?”
“Since I changed my last name a couple times and moved ’round, she didn’t know where I was or how to contact me. Not sure how he found me, but I didn’t ask for details.”
“You don’t think…” He furrows his brows, leaning against the counter. “That was the guy who tried to take Sam and followed you home?”
“Oh.” My spine straightens, and an uneasy feeling flows through me. “I dunno. If he was only tryin’ to locate me to tell my mother, why would he want Sam?”
“Not sure, but I don’t like it. Who’s to say she hired someone legit and not some creep off the dark web? Could’ve been a predator for all we know.”
“If that’s the case, then he’ll figure out how to find me here if he managed to do so the first time.”
“That’s not gonna happen,” he reassures me. “No one but our family knows you’re here. Your car’s back home. Nothin’ traces you here.”
“I’m sure my cell phone does. What if he’s trackin’ it? Or followed Wilder on our way up here? Or—”
“Amelia.” He grips my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. “Breathe.”
“Even if he doesn’t, he’s gonna know I’ll go home at some point.”
“It might not be him, so don’t get worked up until we do. Maybe you should ask your mom for his contact information.”
“She’ll know something’s wrong if I do and get all into my business, which is exactly where I don’t want her.
And if I tell her and explain why I’m here instead of Sugarland Creek, she’ll get the pleasure of knowin’ I’m a disaster.
She’ll tell me to move home since I can’t keep my own kids safe.
I am not gonna give her the satisfaction of thinkin’ she was right when she told me I’d be a horrible mother. ”
“She’s not right, not even close.” His eyes darken with anger. “This ain’t your fault. Whoever this person is, shakin’ up your life and causin’ you stress, ain’t happenin’ ’cause of anythin’ you did. And you do keep your kids safe, otherwise you wouldn’t be here tryin’ to do what’s best for them.”
“But she won’t see it that way,” I say defeatedly.
“She’ll blame me for being a single mom and not married.
Or say I can’t keep a man happy, so even if I showed up in the nicest car possible, in the most expensive clothes, and my kids lookin’ like a million bucks, she’d find the one thing I don’t have and use it as leverage to say I failed. Probably insist we move in with her.”
He grabs my chin and stares into my watery eyes.
“You don’t owe her a damn thing, darlin’.
But if it’s a husband you need to get the strength to go there and show her your life is better without ’em, then I’ll go with you.
Maybe it’ll shut her up for good, and you can get the proper closure of knowin’ she can’t say or think anythin’ negative ’bout you. ”
“Oh, trust me, she’d find somethin’…” I jerk my head, blinking. “Hold on a minute. Did you just offer to be my husband?”
I’m either experiencing full-blown whiplash or he suggested we pretend to be married.
“Yeah, a fake husband. She won’t know any better since she hasn’t been in your life.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Why not?” His dramatic, offended tone has me rolling my eyes. “Am I not husband material?”
I sigh, shaking my head because he’d be the perfect husband for the right woman. “I didn’t say that.”
“Then gimme one reason why it’s a bad idea when it’ll help you face her.”
“For starters, we’re not together. Pretty sure she’d expect us to, at the very least, look like we’re in love.”
“I was the main star in Romeo and Juliet in the middle school play. I can act!”
My head falls back on a laugh at how serious he sounds and how utterly wild this idea is.
“Were you Romeo or Juliet?”
He raises his brows, inching closer. “I’ll have you know, I received a standin’ ovation for my role as Romeo.”
“I bet you did.” I snort.
“So…” He waggles his brows. “Just imagine my performance as your husband.”
“You remember they both died at the end, right?”
“Yes, but preteen me thought it was super romantic, so I put my whole heart into it.”