by Kat T. Masen
“As you know, your father’s birthday is coming up.”
“The whole world knows, Mom,” I drag, resting my elbow on the armchair. “You know Dad, everyone must celebrate his life and party like we’re at a keg party.”
“Remind me why I married him again?”
“We’ve been down this rabbit hole, and it’s filled with many things I wish I never heard,” I remind her with a stern voice, willing the unpleasant memories of Dad’s descriptive answer to disappear. “So, he wants a party? What’s new?”
“I’m thinking a weekend away, maybe Cancun? You think you can make it?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Will,” she threatens, reverting to her overbearing motherly ways. “I want more than I’ll see what I can do. Besides, what else do you have to do on the weekend? Or is there someone I should know about?”
I bow my head, keeping my expression fixed. Years ago, when news broke out about my affair with Amelia, Mom surprisingly didn’t say more than two words. It was bizarre, given that she’s opinionated on everything else going on in my life. However, Dad—he had more than enough to voice for them both.
The truth is—all blame was pointing toward me.
I was more experienced and older—therefore, I should have stopped anything happening between us. Then Dad rambled on about the whole “don’t shit where you eat” metaphor. I ended up zoning out. Like I needed any more misery to my already pained state.
As for our family’s relationship, I have no clue whether everyone is still as close as before. Frankly, it’s best I didn’t ask, or all blame will fall onto me once again.
And for the longest of time, the guilt ate away at me. Perhaps everyone was right. I should have been more responsible, and what if my foolish actions caused more damage than I ever imagined?
But the guilt disappeared like quicksand the moment the photo of the engagement surfaced online. Apparently, there was no damage at all because someone is able to move on. Not only did she move on, but she is also committing to someone else for life.
I grind my teeth, clenching my fists only to tilt my head from side to side, cracking the muscles in my neck. The small movement is enough to control my anger, which is starved for attention. What’s fucking new?
“Will,” Mom says, lowering her voice, “there’s something you should—”
A gentle knock on the door interrupts her.
“Come in,” Mom calls, letting out a sigh.
The door creaks open, and oddly so, no greeting from the person entering. A loud sound catches my attention, forcing me to turn around to see a woman on the floor with what appears to be a freshly damaged phone.
My heart stops beating; a lump forming inside my throat as air is trapped and unable to escape. I recognize the hands touching the ground before anything. Soft, dainty, perfectly manicured without the ridiculous fake nails women often wore.
In a panic, my eyes move toward the hair slicked back into a ponytail. The shade is a different color, but that doesn’t stop the sudden heaviness which expands in my core, making everything extremely uncomfortable.
And then, after mumbling to herself, I see her completely freeze. The muscles in her arms tighten; beautiful tan arms I had kissed every inch of with my aching lips.
Then, her eyes snap up to meet my penetrating gaze.
Emerald-green.
Every single god damn emotion I’d suppressed over the years comes back like a tornado ready for destruction. My limbs fall heavy but not as weighted as the pressure inside my chest. I’m frozen on the spot, mesmerized by the beautiful woman standing in front of me.
She’s matured, perhaps thinned out a little on the face. Everything is exactly how I remember; the rose color of her lips, the shade of crimson in her cheeks when she’s flushed with excitement or anger.
The ivory blouse and gray skirt she wears are very sexy, as are the black pumps enhancing her long, lean legs. The same legs I’ve run my fingers along before throwing them over my shoulders.
Don’t think about her that way now. You’re only hurting yourself.
My expression doesn’t waver, neither pleased nor angered, unable to control the numb feeling now consuming me.
Mom breaks the momentary silence, but her words become distant to a haze of noise in the background as my thoughts become overwhelmed by this moment. I catch a piece of what she says, something about Amelia working here in the office and me being back for good.
And then Mom attempts to wrap up the so-called catch-up.
But we weren’t finished.
How can we forget about the diamond ring blinding me inside the room? It’s there on her finger, demanding attention.
Amelia speaks, telling Mom it’s fine. No animosity on her end. Of course not. She’s screwing some college kid and marrying him, all with Daddy’s approval, no doubt. Her life seems to be a bed of fucking roses.
“You forgot to mention the engagement of Lex Edwards’s eldest daughter?” I grit, struggling to compose myself from being completely blindsided.
Mom presses her lips tight into a slight grimace, warning me, before her phone rings which breaks the tension in the room. Amelia continues to sit in silence, eyeing her ring and probably thinking about how in love she is with the Carter kid. Each breath I take becomes more complex than the one proceeding, almost as if someone has their hands wrapped around my throat while attempting to strangle me.
The conversation comes to a complete dead end as Mom informs us she needs to take the call. In a fleeting moment, Amelia announces her departure and practically disappears from the room. Without a goodbye, without a single word.
I wasn’t sure what upset me most, that she ignored me, or acted as if we were nothing. Without saying goodbye to Mom, who appears distracted anyway, I exit the room taking large steps, only just managing to slide my hand in the elevator door for it to open again.
Amelia looks crestfallen as if she can’t imagine anything worse than being in an elevator with the man she once loved. I choose to keep my distance, despite the temptation to grab her face between my hands, pin her against the wall and make sweet love to her body as if it still belongs to me.
But her actions, the ring—it became a vicious cycle with my confidence. One minute I want her against the wall, the next I’m reminded of not being good enough to choose forever with.
Yet my ego can only take so much, so I fucking bite. “So, who is the lucky man?”
Her gaze lifts toward my unrelenting stare. Unlike her quiet demeanor inside the office, her eyes narrow with a hard expression.
“What does it matter?” she asks, angered by my question.
“Because we’re family, according to my mother,” I sneer, deliberately raising my eyebrows. “Surely, I would be owed the respect of knowing who the man is to steal the heart of Amelia Edwards?”
And then she says his name, which comes as no surprise since I already knew this. What I didn’t expect was the puncture to an already wounded heart—the inability to breathe normally, struggling to gasp for air but trying to show absolutely no emotion.
I should be used to this; I’ve mastered the art of a poker face—a much-needed trait when dealing with multi-million dollar contracts and bastards who try to manipulate decisions with their narcissism.
Then something awakens me; adrenaline rushes through my entire body, and this confined area becomes increasingly warm. I cross my arms, jutting my chin with a stiff smile.
“Austin, right. The love of your life. The high school sweetheart, correct?”
“So much for being amicable,” she mutters beneath her breath, crossing her arms in defiance. “None of it matters, Will. It’s been four years. Everyone has moved on, and your mom was right. We are family, so there’s no point dwelling on the past. All is forgotten.”
Everyone has moved on. How fucking lovely.
Well, guess what, sweetheart?
I haven’t moved on.
I still fucking love
you.
Her escape from me is quick, but I call her name in which she stops so easily.
Maybe all is not lost, maybe somewhere in this fucked up universe of ours, timing is everything.
I didn’t want to visit Mom tonight. It was the last thing I wanted to do. Yet out of character, I did so unsure of why. Now, I understand that something greater pulled me here.
It’s the woman standing only a few feet away with her back facing me.
A sudden memory came to me of Ashley Stone all those months ago.
“Loving the wrong person is one of life’s greatest punishments.”
How damn true. All those months ago, I thought being apart from Amelia was the ultimate punishment. But now, only a few feet away and untouchable, I realize this is even greater. She’s no longer the figment of my imagination. She is here, living and breathing.
I’d envisioned what this moment would feel like, and in my warped head, it was something special. Amelia fell into my arms and told me she would never let go again.
But the reality is anything but sweet.
It’s bitter, bleak—a slap in the face. It’s the cold wind on a winter’s day. The icy road which causes your car to spin out of control. It’s unpleasant and detrimental to moving forward to better things.
How can I move forward and profess my love when she’s given her heart to someone else?
“I never forgot about us…” I tell her, bowing my head. “So no, all is not forgotten.”
She doesn’t turn around nor acknowledge my words. Instead, she walks away just as she had all those years ago.
And the pain manifests into something greater.
It tears me down, forces my heart to slow down, and seemingly stop beating. Nothing in this life matters, not when she’s running off right now with a high probability of falling straight into his arms.
I have no idea how to escape the turmoil, erase the pain which crippled me into this very spot inside the lobby of the building.
My only coping mechanism is to find something temporarily to make me forget. So, what if I fall into bad habits? I need anything to numb the pain because addiction is a special kind of hell.
And Amelia Edwards is an addiction I can’t seem to recover from no matter how hard I try. Replacing my desperation for her is only to protect myself.
No one else is looking out for Will Romano.
Not even the woman who promised her heart belonged to me, and only me.
7
WILL
My gaze falls across the skyline while I stand beside the window of the hotel room.
I’ve barely touched the Scotch I’ve been nursing for the last hour. It’s unusual for me to procrastinate with an expensive liquor designed to be consumed, but something is holding me back.
Friday night in New York City is anything but quiet. It’s everyone’s chance to socialize, dine and dance, drink and be merry. Cabs drive past carrying passengers, and patrons stand around in lines waiting to be served. There is noise everywhere, but after a while, it all drowns out and becomes part of the usual nightlife.
Alone, inside this hotel room, my choice to stay here is deliberate. My emotions are wreaking havoc, a cyclone of impure thoughts after seeing her tonight. It would have been easy to drown out the pain buried between another woman’s legs, but I know my triggers too well. Halfway through, I’ll remember how my body craves someone else, and my sudden distaste for the woman beneath me will call off any chances for a happy ending.
I’m my own worst enemy.
The second option is to drink myself into a stupor. But as I try that, I’m failing miserably.
Why does this get to me so much? Amelia’s choice of him out of all men she could have chosen to settle down with. And seeing her again, it’s fucked with everything I thought I could control in my life. My mission was to come back here and win her back. But I doubt my capabilities, insecure about what we once had. Tonight, seeing her, she didn’t seem as invested in our past as I am. Maybe that’s my problem. I’m so hung up on the past and what we were.
Then, my mind drifts to Lex. I cannot understand how or why he would give his blessing. She’s way too young, and he knows that. What possible reason could he have to allow such a mistake?
Maybe it’s you. He loathes you that much and would instead allow her to marry someone else, just as long as it isn’t the man who disrespected the great Lex Edwards.
I would not put it past him.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I retrieve it to read the message on my screen.
Unknown: Just because you haven’t forgotten doesn’t change anything.
I reread the message. It has to be Amelia even though the number is unknown to me, assuming she changed it over the years. My number has remained the same; too many business associates contact me on this number.
My feet begin to move on their own accord, pacing the area in front of the window with my fist pressed against my lips. What is her purpose for sending me this message? Did she enjoy hurting me or watching me suffer? Amelia held all the cards, a dangerous position to be in because with just one move—she can crush me.
Or maybe she already has.
Beneath my collared shirt, I begin to sweat. My skin feels incredibly hot, forcing me to remove my tie to be able to breathe normally. I head straight for the bathroom to notice a visible flush on my face and neck. Turning the faucet onto cold, I splash the water over my skin to cool myself down and gain some sort of control.
I think about replying but decide against it. Today was too much, and whatever I say may cause more harm than good.
My phone beeps again. This time it’s a text from Andy.
Andy: Ignore anything from Millie. She’s drunk AF.
My hands type quickly, hitting send as I begin to worry about Amelia’s safety. The last time she got drunk, men were trying to take advantage of her all over the dancefloor. She was god damn lucky I came when I did.
Me: Where is she???
Andy: I can’t remember. Somewhere near a building.
What kind of a fucking response is that? I check Andy’s Insta account, in which he posted a few stories. Nothing looks familiar, just uploads of drinks and a few girls—none of them being Amelia.
Fucking hell. How dare they both drop this on me and assume I’ll sit here and do absolutely nothing. I call Ava, but the phone rings for a while until she finally answers.
“Hello, Will?”
“Ava, where are Amelia and Andy?”
“No, hello? How are you? It’s been a while,” she points out with a trace of sarcasm. “How would I know? I’m not their keeper.”
“I don’t have time to play games.”
“Will, until two seconds ago, I didn’t even know you were hanging out with Millie again. Can you give me a moment to process all this?”
I bite my tongue, ready to give this girl a stern warning.
“Look, I’ll text Millie now and see if she tells me where she is.”
The line goes quiet bar the sound of keys typing. “So, while we wait, how have you been?”
“Fine,” is all I say.
“Really, fine?” Ava questions in a condescending tone. “The girl you love is getting married to another man. At what point are you fine?”
“Ava,” I grumble, closing my eyes to draw any patience left within me. “Cut the small talk. Has she texted back?”
“Hmmm, yeah, something about a sports bar, and…” she trails off, then continues. “I can’t make out what she is saying.”
“You’re not helping at all,” I almost bark. “C’mon, you must know where she hangs out? You’re her sister, for Christ's sake.”
“Yes, I am her sister with my own life, thank you very much,” Ava snaps, then releases a breath. “Look, there’s a sports bar right next to Andy’s studio. I’ll text you his address, maybe try there.”
“Thank you,” I mutter, about to hang up when she calls my name in a softer tone.
“Will, Millie
moved on. Austin is a great guy. I’m not sure why she felt compelled to hide your union from me, but I will say it probably has everything to do with Dad.”
“No, Ava.” I sigh, allowing my shoulders to fall. “We accidentally ran into each other at Mom’s office tonight. It was all a coincidence and possibly a shock for her as it was for me.”
“If that’s the case, then knowing Millie, it was a shock. Explains why she is wasted.”
“I should go make sure she is okay.”
“Will?” Ava calls again. “Don’t hate her, okay? It wasn’t easy when you left. In fact, Millie got into a car accident when she left your place that morning. Mom and Dad were called to the hospital. It was awful.”
“What do you mean she got into a car accident? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I panic, unable to process what Ava is telling me. “I wouldn’t have boarded that flight.”
“Exactly why you were never told.” The call goes quiet, and I assume we’ve lost connection until Ava’s breathing echoes through the receiver. “It was a difficult time for our family. So, despite what you may think, that Millie moved on so easily, she didn’t, okay?”
My chest tightens as heaviness weighs it down, leaving me with nothing else to say. To think Amelia was injured in a car accident and to know that I had something to do with it—the guilt bears too much. I need to find her tonight, make sure she is okay. That’s all.
We hang up the phone, and within minutes, I am out on the street, hailing a cab since it’s late and I don’t want to wait for my driver. My car is parked beneath the hotel in the garage, but I didn’t need the nuisance of looking for a parking garage near the bar. That’s even if they are at the bar Ava mentioned.
Fifteen minutes later, I enter the crowded place and see Amelia at the bar with two unknown men surrounding her. She’s throwing her head back, laughing at some joke, oblivious the men are eyeing her like fucking candy.
