"Hey, Amelia?" I gently lay her down.
"Yeah, Theo?"
"I'm going to go get you some water and Tylenol. You're going to hate life tomorrow."
"I hate life every day when my mom isn't here."
And in an instant, the mood has shifted from goofy and suggestive, to sad and honest. I see the transformation across her face when Amelia realizes it too.
"I miss my mom." She puts her hands across her face and begins to cry. Her cheeks are already pink and flushed from the wine. The tear that managed to escape her fingertips leaves a wet residue that Amelia doesn't bother wiping away. "I miss her every day."
I return to my spot on her bed, and she wraps her arms around my neck.
"It’s like she was never even here," Amelia admits. "Nothing is the same."
As she continues to cry, I can't deny the fact that my eyes are beginning to sting with tears of their own. Fuck it, if I cry now, she won't remember it tomorrow.
"I miss my dad, too," I confess. "I think about him every day. It's not fair they're gone."
We aren't ugly crying. No heavy sobs or giant heaves of breath as we hyperventilate.
We've experienced all types of grieving for our parents over the years. Right now, it's a subtle cry. One that doesn't need to pull all the attention from every single sad moment of our lives, but a quiet, uncomplicated cry.
Our conversation has ended, and there are no words left to say.
She misses her mom.
I miss my dad.
She forces us to lay back on her bed, her arms still around me, and we lie there together, silent, tears rolling down our cheeks.
Beforemyeyesopen,it's the headache attacking my skull that hits me first.
I haven't even seen sunlight streaming through my blinds yet when I realize there's a twenty-five-pound weight sitting on my forehead.
"Oh my God, what is happening?"
The heel of my palm connects to my head, and everything is swollen. I'm alone in bed and cannot, for the life of me, remember what the hell happened last night.
But I'm startled by a knock at the door.
I'm still in my bikini but at least I have a shirt on.
"Come in?" I question, unsure who it could be.
"Morning, sunshine," Theo greets while holding two glasses.
One is filled with water, the other has to be a mug with steaming hot coffee because my adrenal glands are going ape shit as I inhale the nutty aroma.
"What are you…umm…" I clear my throat and cover up my bare legs with my blanket. "Umm, what are you doing here?"
"Bringing you some coffee. I'm sure you feel awful."
He pulls out a bottle of pain reliever from his pocket and tosses it to me. My reflexes are shit and I let the bottle bounce on my bed with no attempt at catching it.
"How did you even know I was in this condition?"
"You don't remember what happened last night?"
