I continued to stare at her, and while I did, something shattered inside me. The resentment, the fear, it all evaporated in a heartbeat. The answer to all of this had been here all along—I simply hadn’t acknowledged that it was in the room with us already.
I continued to keep eye contact with her and then started unbuttoning my pajama top. The air-conditioning in her house was always set much cooler than I liked, so it wasn’t unusual for me to bundle up like this when I stayed over, but I’d also been hiding something from her and from me. Her eyes went wide, but I stopped two buttons down. I paused, searching my heart again for the answer to my own question, but I knew it already. I’d known for weeks. I reached into the shirt and pulled out the thin gold chain I’d been wearing since I showed Emma the ring. The ring dangled from the bottom of the chain. I held it up for Amelia to see. It had been resting next to my heart, hidden, all this time.
Amelia immediately burst into tears, burying her face in her free arm on the island counter. I watched for a moment and then went to her, putting my arm around her back. She continued to shake and cry for another moment and then sat up. She was in my arms a moment later, the two of us hugging each other so hard, she fell off her stool. We laughed after she almost fell to the floor, and I steadied her on her feet. She was still crying, but she reached up to wipe the tears off her face, smiling widely. She hugged me again, and when she pulled back, our eyes met. I saw her pause, waiting to see how I would react, and then we both moved forward.
After our first, it was the best kiss I’d ever received. Unlike the first, this one was untainted by uncertainty or fear. The kiss was forgiveness, it was starting over, it was moving on. When we drew apart and our eyes met again, things had already begun. In the coming weeks, we would have to talk about what had happened—all of this would still be there, but now I knew there would be coming weeks for both of us, together.
We continued to look at each other. Neither of us needed to say anything—it was there in the room with us already. Her face, which had been troubled and closed and hurt since I saw her yesterday, was open again, her brow clear. Her body, which had been tight and small, as if warding off a constant threat, looked relaxed and solid again. She stood straighter, taller, a bit of her confidence returning to her face. She met my eyes evenly.
“We should get cleaned up,” I told her.
She wrinkled her nose. “I know—I can smell myself.”
I took a step toward her, lowering my eyelids. “You might need some help since you have a cast.”
She grinned. “I might at that. I don’t know how I’ll do everything with one arm. The doctor suggested I take baths for now, until the cast comes off.”
I took another step closer. “I might know someone who can help you. But she’s kind of a tyrant.”
She was smiling widely now, clearly in on the joke. “Oh, is she now?”
“She’ll only help you if you let her do all the work. It’s better that way.”
“Oh?”
I nodded and then took her hand, leading her upstairs to the large master suite. Her bathroom had a huge, Jacuzzi-style tub, and I lowered the stopper and turned the water on before dumping in some bubble bath. I turned back to her, and she was watching me, her eyes shy and scared-looking in her pale face.
“You can’t get in the water wearing a bathrobe,” I told her.
She nodded, seeming a little reluctant, and started struggling to shirk off her clothes. I saw her wince again and went immediately to help. I unhooked the sling, slid off her robe, and then paused before moving my hands to unbutton her pajama top. She froze. Then our eyes met, and I saw her confidence flicker back to life. She nodded, a slight smile drawing up one corner of her mouth. I began unbuttoning her top, my hands shaking slightly. I went slowly, looking at her face, not at what I was doing, making sure she wanted me to. She continued to meet my eyes, her cheeks flushing slightly. I reached the final button and then helped her shrug her top off her shoulders and pull it over her cast.
We continued to gaze at each other for a long time, and then, no longer able to help it, I looked down at her body. What I saw made me feel both heartbroken and glad. I rarely saw her naked body, even before all of this, but she was agonizingly thin and was marred and singed all over. Her ribs were bruised on one side and taped, and she had another dark-blue, almost hand-sized mark on her chest just below her collarbone, apparently from the seat belt. She had several little burns, but, given the fact that her entire car had gone up in flames, they seemed fairly minimal. I grabbed her shoulders, leaned forward, and then kissed the largest bruise over her heart. As I did, her body twitched under my hands. When we moved apart, her eyes were wide with surprise and pleasure.
“Now the pants,” I said, pointing at them. We both looked down, and as she bent to take them off, I put out a hand to stop her. “Allow me.” She let me yank them over her narrow hips, and then she stepped out of them almost primly.
She was completely naked now, and for once, I still had my clothes on. We’d been in the reverse situation so many times that it was momentarily disorienting, but the current moment wasn’t about sex—it was about trust. I wanted Amelia to trust me, and I needed to show her that she could.
Ever since I’d heard the news about her engagement to Sara, a lot of things had become clear to me about our previous sex life. When we’d first talked about her problem, Amelia had told me she no longer liked being touched, but she didn’t know exactly why. Now that the truth about Sara had been revealed, I think I knew, at least in part, why she was so reluctant to let her guard down. Sara had warped her sense of confidence, both in herself and in others. I needed to show her that she could have faith that I would never hurt her.
I turned off the water and then returned to her, leading her over to the tub. She stepped in, gingerly, using me for balance. The last time we’d been in this bathroom together, she’d watched me take a bath, her eyes hungry and impatient, the whole thing a prelude to sex. This time, I was the one watching, and all I wanted to do was show her gentleness.
I wrapped her cast tightly in a towel and made her lean back into the water, her arms on the outside of the tub. She looked uneasy for a moment, and then she relaxed, closing her eyes. I soaked a rag in the hot water and started gently scrubbing the exposed skin on her chest and neck. I could see her wincing against my ministrations, but there was nothing for it. She had blood, soot, and grime all over her. I moved slowly, carefully, making her stand up so I could reach her lower body. I touched parts of her she’d never allowed me near before, but I went slowly, still looking up at her face periodically to make sure she was comfortable with what I was doing.
Finally, I helped her back into the water, and she seemed almost completely worn out. She’d been okay with everything I’d done, but it was testing her defenses nonetheless. I continued to clean as she kept her eyes closed. I was especially careful with her face, using a little sponge with mild soap to remove the worst of the caked-on blood. The bandage on her forehead needed changing, and I used the water to help lift off the tape in order to lessen the pain. The cut underneath was jagged and long, but thin. Like her nose, it had been stitched shut. Who knew what kind of scars she would be left with when she healed. It didn’t matter. Even with the angry-looking wounds on her face, she was still beautiful.
“We should wash your hair in the sink,” I finally told her.
She opened her eyes and blinked stupidly for a moment, clearly just one step from falling asleep. I smiled then, proud that she’d let herself relax that deeply. I helped her stand again, and as the tub drained, I toweled off her entire body, patting every inch of her dry. She was grinning slightly now, that earlier nervousness almost entirely gone. I helped her step out of the tub, and we walked to the sink together. She bent over, and I used a nearby glass to soak her hair and then started lathering it. It took a while to rinse and even longer to towel it dry.
“I’ve never seen your hair this short,” I said after I
set the towel on her shoulders.
She ran her fingers through her damp waves. “I’ve never had it this short. I regret cutting it, if that makes you feel any better.”
I laughed. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
“But it’s terrible, right?”
Her hair was still damp, but I looked at it for a long time, scrutinizing it. I’d only seen her new style dirty and careworn, but, now clean, it looked better. She had thick, wavy hair, and she usually kept it long enough to hit the middle or lower portion of her back. Her new cut was perhaps four or five inches long on top, parted over one side, the sides a bit shorter. Styled, the haircut might look quite dashing, but it was definitely very different from the way it had been before.
“Actually, I think it suits you,” I said.
She looked surprised. “Really?”
I nodded. “I mean, I want to see it dry and styled to give my final opinion, but even like this, it looks good. And it must be nice to have all that hair off your head.”
She rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t believe how nice it is.”
“Well, you should keep it like this, then, if it feels better. It’s silly to have long hair in this climate anyway.”
She smiled. “Well, if you like it, then I do, too.”
The two of us worked together to apply a new bandage to her forehead, and I fished out some painkillers from the bottle for her. Back in the bedroom, I pulled back the covers and motioned for her to get in. Last night, she hadn’t gotten into her own bed. Like me, she’d either fallen asleep on top of the blankets, or she’d been waiting here, awake, until she came into my room. We didn’t bother getting her into pj’s again, as it was clearly a painful and unnecessary step. She slid into bed naked, and I drew the covers to her chin and tucked her in. She laughed, enjoying the attention, and I bent down to kiss her forehead. When I stood up again, I saw tears in her eyes, and she looked more content than she did yesterday.
I was about to open my mouth when my phone rang. I’d put it in the pocket of my bathrobe. We both looked down at my ringing pocket, and I glanced up. She nodded, and I took a couple of steps away from her to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sugar. This is Aunt Kate.”
“Hey, Kate.”
“I’m just checking in with you. I came over here to your place to see how you are, but Jonathan tells me you haven’t been back yet.”
I hesitated. “I’m still at Amelia’s.”
There was a long silence. She obviously already knew where I was, but hearing it from me still seemed to throw her. “How is she? Is she okay?”
I looked over at Amelia and smiled. Even cleaned up, she still looked objectively terrible, but I’d hardly seen anything more beautiful in my entire life.
“She’s okay, Kate. I just got her settled for a nap.”
“Will you be over later? For dinner?”
I had, of course, forgotten all about dinner. Jim’s other sons were flying in today, and all of us, including Meghan, were supposed to meet and eat together this afternoon. My aunt wanted Meghan and me to get to know the sons a little since we were all members of the wedding party.
“Of course, Kate. I’ll be there.”
I was watching Amelia, and I saw her face fall. She clearly didn’t want me to leave.
Aunt Kate was quiet for a while. “Meghan’s Zach will be here, too,” she said. “If you want, you could bring Amelia. I mean, if she’s up for it…”
I smiled at Amelia, and, apparently upon seeing something hopeful in my eyes, she smiled back.
“I’ll ask her. Thanks, Kate.”
“I just want you to be happy, sweetheart.”
Her words made my eyes wet with thankful tears. “Thanks, Kate. I mean it.” I paused and swallowed. “I’ll see you later.”
We hung up, and I gave Amelia a quick hug before telling her about Kate’s invitation. She wasn’t in any shape to go and wouldn’t be later, even with some rest, but I wanted her to know that she’d been invited.
“She doesn’t hate me?” she asked.
I shook my head and then explained what Kate and Meghan had thought and then what they’d learned about her from Emma. Amelia didn’t look at all surprised when I finished my story.
“A lot of people thought Sara was the victim back then,” she said quietly.
I sat down on the bed and took her hand in mine. “Well, now that all of this new information about her will come out in the papers, maybe the record will be set straight.”
Amelia nodded but still looked troubled. I leaned down again and kissed her lightly on her forehead again. When I sat back up, her expression had brightened perceptibly.
“Stop worrying about it,” I told her. “Try to relax, and get some sleep. You just had a major accident.”
“Will you still be here when I wake up?”
“I should be. Dinner isn’t until two. I’ll wake you up if I have to leave, okay?”
She nodded, and a moment later her eyes drooped closed.
Chapter Twenty-one
To say Amelia and I were connected at the hip the week leading up to the wedding is overstating it a little, but we did spend nearly all day, every day together. I had some wedding activities to attend part of every day, but otherwise I was over at her house keeping her company and helping out. However, after that first night, I went to my place at night. We didn’t talk about why I did this, and Amelia didn’t seem to mind or expect anything different. It was simply a natural thing, for now, to avoid any awkwardness that might arise should I sleep over. Whether I stayed in her room or in a guest room, we weren’t ready to spend the night together. It was too intimate for us for now. We also kept our distance from each other physically when we were together. We kissed cheeks hello and hugged good-bye, but that was it, for the most part. We both seemed to need to keep it that way for the time being.
I ran into several of her family members at her place that week, most of whom seemed overjoyed to see me again. Luckily for me, the impending divorce was making Amelia’s mother’s presence extremely awkward for everyone, so she visited only once that week. Her mother was less than cordial to me during her visit, but as it was very brief, I didn’t feel the need to leave while she was there. I just hid in the library. In the past, she’d been the hardest to win over, and even before Amelia and I broke up we hadn’t exactly been what one would call friendly. I was, however, beginning to realize that the only thing I could hope was that her mother could, with time, be civil. She was maybe one degree above lukewarm with most members of her own family. I decided I could live with this type of behavior if Amelia could, especially as I wouldn’t be seeing her at every family function anymore. Amelia’s brother Dean and his wife Ingrid were only slightly warmer with me than her mother was, but the rest of her family treated me like one of their own. Not one of them seemed to resent the breakup. I almost cried when I saw Amelia’s dad for the first time. He came straight to me and gave me a bone-crunching hug. Emma and Amelia’s other brothers, Bobby and Michael, were just as excited that I was back. All was clearly on the way to being forgiven.
Amelia and I talked a lot that week. Very few of our conversations were easy ones, but we made ourselves get through them with no small amount of tears, hurt feelings, and awkwardness. Now that she’d decided on full honesty, the floodgates were open, and I learned more about her in our conversations that week than I had in the months we’d been together before our breakup. As I’d always suspected, she’d dated or slept with almost all of her previous assistants at work. Amelia herself had been seduced when she just out of college by the woman she trained under when she was learning the business—an older woman we’d run into once in a lingerie store months ago. As the words spilled out of her, I was in stages shocked, appalled, horrified, and finally bemused with her past. More than anything, her frantic search for lovers bespoke a sad kind of desperation on her part—a desperation she clearly hadn’t filled with empty sex and meaningles
s relationships. The fact that she’d stayed with me, had fallen for me, out of all of those people made me feel a little proud now, as silly as that is.
Sara’s involvement with the theft and her subsequent arrest hit the newspapers the same day Amelia decided to drop a bombshell on the art world. I got to her place early that morning to make her breakfast. I’d brought in the newspaper as I came inside, and as I waited for the coffee to finish brewing, I opened it to a full-page spread about Sara’s arrest in the crime section and then another full-page spread about Amelia’s news in the arts-and-leisure section. Amelia had decided to sell her business, Winters Corporation. She’d told me her plans last night, but I hadn’t realized how quickly the sale would be announced. I refolded the paper and took it and the tray with her breakfast up to her room. She was still sleeping when I walked in, and I set the tray down on a little table before gently shaking her awake.
She blinked stupidly for a moment and then grinned up at me, stretching widely before flinching. Her bruises and stitches were healing but still painful. Gingerly, she scooted up in bed, and I moved some pillows around behind her so she could sit up straight.
She watched me bring her tray over, beaming when I set it down over her lap. “I can’t even get my cook to bring me breakfast in bed, Chloé, and I pay her. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
“Don’t worry—I’ll make you pay for it later,” I said and winked at her.
I picked up the newspaper and showed her the article on Sara. She read it slowly, her eyes hard and angry. When she was finished, she set it down on the bed next to her, shaking her head. “I don’t know why, but this reporter clearly knows more details than I do. I wonder why none of my lawyers called me with this information. According to this, Sara hired an intern at work to install a money-hoarding virus. That’s how she got in. The intern was arrested last night on conspiracy charges.”
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