35. Rule #35 Give people a chance to surprise you.
Amelia
Amelia: Do you think she knows?
Matis: Yes.
Amelia: I should talk to her.
Matis: Want me to talk to her with you?
Amelia: No. I’ll swing by her apartment later tonight. I’d feel better doing it in person.
Matis: Okay. Let me know how it goes.
My shoes scuff against the steps as I huff up the massive hills of Montmartre to Phoenix’s apartment, not far from the restaurant. I told my parents I needed to stop by the club, so I let them take the car home without me.
Phoenix left dinner before us so I’m sure she’s home by now. Wringing my hands in front of me, I just keep replaying the look on her face when she stepped out of the bathroom and looked at Matis emerging from the dark closet behind me.
Why are we so bad at this? We can’t keep this relationship under wraps to save our lives. It’s honestly embarrassing.
If we had just kept our hands to ourselves during dinner, I could be at his place right now doing God knows what and it would be amazing. But no. Instead, I’m a dog with its tail between its legs, running over to my coworker’s home to beg her not to tell anyone.
First Julian. Then Geo. And now Phoenix.
At this point, it feels like my parents are the only people who don’t know, and that won’t last forever.
When I reach Phoenix’s quaint flat at the top of the hill, I’m breathing heavy and still shaking with nerves. I buzz her apartment and pray she’s home. I didn’t just climb up those two hundred steps for nothing.
“All??” Her voice comes through the fuzzy intercom in a clipped, guarded tone.
“It’s me,” I reply. “Amelia.”
There’s a pause, and it’s loaded with awkwardness. She knows exactly why I’m here.
A moment later, the door clicks as she unlocks it, and I yank it open. Phoenix lives above a restaurant, so the stairwell to her apartment is narrow and the stairs are steep. My legs burn as I scurry up them toward her door on the second floor.
She’s standing in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. As I reach the landing, she glances down the stairs as if waiting to see someone else coming.
“I’m alone,” I reply breathlessly.
“Come in.”
I follow her into her apartment, feeling like a child about to be scolded. The door closes behind me as I take a glance around Phoenix’s apartment, and it’s nothing like I expected.
Phoenix is brilliant in a books and numbers sort of way. Frankly, I’ve always considered her a bit of a square, nerdy and antisocial. So when I enter her place and see a cozy living room with books stacked on shelves and beside the coffee table, that’s not all that shocking.
What is shocking is the American wrestling match playing on the television and the K-pop poster hanging on her wall above a cozy reading chair.
I’m frozen in place, wondering if I showed up to the right apartment.
Out of nowhere, a cold bottle of beer is thrust into my hands. She passes by me with her own as she plops down on the big green velvet couch and hits Mute on her TV remote.
“Have a seat, Amelia.”
In a daze and feeling as if I’ve stepped into an alternate reality, I follow Phoenix to her couch and fold my legs under me as I sit on the opposite side. She takes a swig from her bottle as she watches me. I guess she’s waiting for me to start.
So I dive right in.
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” she answers flatly.
Chewing my lip, I stare at her, waiting for her to start berating me or questioning me. “He didn’t coerce me or anything.”
She tilts her head. “I didn’t think he did.”
“You’re judging me,” I mutter, feeling defensive.
To my surprise, she lets out a bark of laughter. “Judge you? Why would I judge you?”
“I don’t know.” My voice has grown louder and more erratic.
“Because he’s my godfather and he’s twenty-eight years older than me.
And he’s my dad’s best friend. And most people would assume he’s groomed me or something, but it was never like that with us.
In fact, he fought me a lot on everything, and I was the one who pursued him—”
“Amelia,” she snaps, putting a hand out to stop me. “Is that what you really thought? That I’d be so contemptuous toward you and your relationship with Matis?”
I screw up my mouth, not entirely knowing what contemptuous means, but it doesn’t sound good.
“Maybe,” I murmur.
She laughs again before taking another pull from the bottle. “Geez, you must think I’m really a big dull prude, don’t you?”
Yes.
“No.”
She glares at me with a look that says she’s calling my bullshit.
Eventually, I roll my eyes. “Okay…maybe.”
“Look at me,” she says, gesturing to her apartment. “I sit alone here most days without a life or a date, feeling like the outsider to everyone in the group. When I saw you and Matis together, I wasn’t judging you. I was hoping you came here to tell me all the juicy details.”
My brows furrow as I lean forward. “Really?”
“Yes!” Then she leans forward a little more until her elbows are resting on her leg. “Is he as good in bed as everyone says?”
Suddenly, all the tension in my shoulders melts away and my face relaxes into a bashful smile. Covering my mouth with my hand, I lean back into the couch. After taking a long drink of the cold beer, I look at her mischievously.
Then I nod.
“I knew it! Tell me everything.”
So I start from the beginning. I tell her about the dating app and the voyeur room and the double date that ended with the best kiss of my life in Trocadero. An hour later, we’re three beers in with a bowl of popcorn between us.
She’s replaced the wrestling match with some K-pop playlist on low. And honestly…it’s the most fun I’ve had in a while—at least without Matis.
Matis texts me in the middle of it, so when Phoenix hops up from the couch to use the bathroom, I text him back.
Matis: What did she say? Is everything okay?
With a smile, I type out my response.
Amelia: Everything is fine. She won’t tell anyone.
Matis: Can you come over?
I bite my bottom lip because as much as I would love to come over, I hate the thought of leaving her. I think she needed this.
Amelia: I’m gonna stick around and hang with her for a while. She needed a girls’ night, I think.
Matis: I love you for that. Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.
Amelia: I will.
My fingers hover over the keys. I want to tell him that I love him too. Before I get the chance, another notification pops up, this time from Instagram.
But when I click on it and see a picture of a bubbly blond in the profile, I pause.
Looking hot, Amelia!
Phoenix comes back into the room. “Want another beer?” she asks with a slight slur in her voice.
“Uh…yeah,” I mumble in reply.
When she returns a second later with two bottles and a bag of French candy, she pauses with her eyes on my phone screen.
“Oh no, what does she want?”
My eyes dance up to Phoenix as she drops onto the couch. I’ve never really known Phoenix and her twin sister, Austin, to not get along, but judging by the tone of her voice, there’s definitely some animosity there.
“She was just responding to my story photo. She doesn’t do that often.”
“You’re lucky you got an ounce of her time. She’s very busy, you know.” Phoenix rolls her eyes, popping a pink chewy candy into her mouth. She must be pretty tipsy because I’ve never seen her open up like this before.
“When was the last time you saw her?” I ask.
“Saw her?” she asks with astonishment. “Last Christmas, I think. She’s off, traipsing the world for her perfect Instagram page, with her perfect boyfriend, for her perfect followers.”
Oh no. I’ve struck a nerve.
Looking back down at my phone, I click on Austin’s profile and scroll through. And Phoenix is right. The feed is stunning, and Austin is stunning.
But my throat burns because the idea of not speaking to Julian makes me want to bawl. I couldn’t do it. Siblings are like soulmates, someone born into the same family, the same world. Shared memories and childhoods.
Sure, he drives me nuts and we used to fight like animals when we were little, but he’s a part of me I couldn’t replace.
My gaze lifts slowly to Phoenix. “Are you close to Weston?”
Struck by the question, she turns toward me. “Yeah, a little, I guess. He’s always so busy too, though. Always working or dating or hanging out with his friends.” At that, she gestures to me, and I feel a twinge of guilt for never inviting her.
Phoenix really has made herself the outsider, and I never noticed it until now.
“Did something happen between you and Austin?”
She tosses the bag of candy on the table and drapes herself across the couch with her head on the armrest and her feet toward me.
For a while, she doesn’t say anything, and I worry I’ve gone too deep and she’s about to cry. I’ll feel like a jerk if that’s the case. Instead, she gets a wistful look on her face.
“Before I came out here, we were inseparable. Me, her, and Liam. Just the three of us. Even when they started dating and I had to watch them making out all the time.” She screws up her face in disgust. “But then…” Her voice drifts off, and I wait for her to explain.
Instead, she shrugs. “We haven’t been the same since. ”
“That’s not your fault,” I say, tilting my head.
“I know. She started building her brand online and went off to see the world, but when she stopped talking to me, I knew I must have messed up. Because I left, I guess. But how can she be mad at me for following my dreams when that’s exactly what she’s doing?”
Getting quiet, I rest my head against the back of the couch and think about Matis. It’s not quite the same, but if he takes this club in London, will a part of me resent him for that? Will a part of him resent me if I ask him to stay?
How do we follow our own dreams and protect the ones we love at the same time?
I love myself as much as I love Matis.
When I glance up at Phoenix again, I notice her eyes are closed and the empty bottle in her hand is about to fall to the floor. Standing up, I grab the bottle and place it on the table. Then I pull the blanket from behind the couch and drape it over her legs.
As I quietly let myself out of Phoenix’s apartment, I order a car to pick me up, since I know my parents and Matis worry about me alone in the city at night.
While I wait to be picked up, I think about Phoenix and how everything I thought I knew about her was wrong. And I think about how she came to Paris, mostly alone, leaving behind the people she loved most.
Now look at her. She’s sitting alone in her apartment, wishing things were different.
Pulling open my phone, I call Matis. He answers after only one ring.
“Bonsoir, mon trésor,” he mumbles into the phone. He sounds tired.
“I’m getting a car and going home,” I say quietly.
“Good girl. The Métro isn’t safe alone at this time of night.”
“I know,” I reply even though I hate that he’s right. “Have you given thought to the club in London?”
He pauses a moment. “Amelia, I don’t know.”
“But…you want it.”
“I want you.” He sounds exasperated as he blows out a breath.
Tears well in my eyes and I don’t speak. The car pulls up, and I stay on the silent call with Matis as I climb into the back seat. Quickly wiping my tears away, I stare down as I listen to him breathe.
“I don’t know what to do, Amelia,” he whispers.
“You think I take this lightly? I’m a fifty-three-year-old man who has never wanted to settle down in my entire life, and now it’s all I want.
With you. It’s like…I waited my entire life for you, and you think I’m going to give that up so easily for a fucking club? ”
With a smile, I let out a shaky exhale, and a tear drops directly from my eye to my lap.
“I love you,” I whisper into the line.
“Mon trésor, mon coeur, mon amour. I love you too.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I let the tears flow, stinging painfully as I try to make sense of any of this. Is this really happening? He really does love me.
“I could have the driver change my destination,” I whisper.
“No. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow. And every day after that.”
Smiling tearfully, I say my goodbye and hang up. When the car pulls up to my house, I thank him and climb out.
When I walk through the front door, my mother is up waiting. I pause in the entryway and stare at her.
“Mom, you don’t have to wait up. I’m twenty-five.”
“You’ll know the feeling one day,” she replies sleepily from her chair with her book in her hand.
“No, Mom,” I say forcefully.
She pauses and looks at me with concern.
Standing my ground, I swallow down the discomfort. “I mean…you shouldn’t wait up for me anymore. You have to let me be an adult.”
Something like sadness and understanding washes over her features as she settles back down on the chair. My mother is a headstrong woman who was once a headstrong girl. I know she knows how I feel, but trying to get the woman to understand something the mother can’t is a challenge.
“You’re right,” she whispers. “You’re all grown up now. I keep forgetting.”
When her voice cracks, I’m slammed in the chest by guilt. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“No.” She puts up a hand. “Don’t be sorry, Mel. Not for growing up.”
Clearing my throat, I ready myself for the part I really dread saying. “I think it’s probably time I think about moving out.”
Her spine straightens as if she’s bracing herself. “You don’t have to. I’ll give you space and let you be an adult.”
Twisting my mouth with worry, I walk over and take her hand in mine. “I know. But…it’s time.”
She nods, her eyes wet and her face growing blotchy with tears. “But I’ll miss you.”
“I’m not leaving tomorrow,” I say with a forced laugh. “And I won’t go far.”
My mom stands from the chair and tugs affectionately on my short hair. “I don’t know how Eden and Isabel do it. Living so far from their children.”
Without anything else to say, I pull my mom into my arms and hug her tight. I don’t say it, but I immediately think that I don’t know how she did it, losing her mom so young.
Because I don’t know how to tell her that I won’t go far now, but someday I see myself in another city. Perhaps even…London.