“You know why, Ada.” Jo’s voice cracked. “Because she’s Callum’s mum, and if I get this wrong, I’ll lose her. Ican’tlose her.”
Ada’s gaze softened.
“I’ve spent so long trying to convince myself it’s Lia that I want because she doesn’t come with any history or consequence. She’s just a feeling and a fantasy. Something that doesn’t tip over into my real life. But Amelia?” Jo swallowed. “She’s real. She matters most.” She glanced down at her glass and sighed. “When you told me nobody had booked a room tonight, I felt empty. Like I’d wasted something. As though I’d put all this hope into a woman who doesn’t even know me outside of that room.”
Ada leaned in. “Maybe Lia was just the safest choice for you. Maybe she was just a way for you to feel in control.”
Jo nodded slowly. “And Amelia is the risk.”
“The risk that matters.”
Jo stared at the ceiling, blinking back the tears in her eyes. “She makes me feel seen, Ada. Not just in the moments that are easy, but in the hard ones, too. Like she understands me even when I’m a mess. And Iknowthis is all messy. Iknowit’s complicated. But I keep thinking about her hands around her coffee cup, or the way she looks at me when I say something stupid, and I just—” Jo laughed quietly. “She’s important to me. More than I’ve wanted to admit for a long time.”
“Do you think she feels the same?”
“I don’t know,” Jo whispered. “Maybe. Maybe not. Sometimes it feels like she does, but she pulls back, too. Like she’s scared of it just as much as I am.”
“Then maybe you need to be the brave one,” Ada said, regarding her with a small, encouraging smile. “Someone has to be.”
Jo nodded slowly, but that ache remained in her chest. What if it was already too late?
She picked up her phone out of habit, not expecting anything. But as she unlocked it, her breath caught. Amelia had sent her a message.
I was sitting here thinking about how I reacted to you earlier in the week when you turned down dinner. I’m sorry.I don’t know if you decided to go to Satin tonight or not, but I hope you get out of it what you need. Be safe x
Jo stared at the screen, the words blurring slightly as they settled in. The message was simple, soft…and far too personal. She closed her eyes. Of course the one woman she was trying to stop thinking about was the one who sent her that kind of message when her guard was already down.
“Another message?” Ada asked.
Jo handed her the phone in silence.
“Well, you certainly have your work cut out, trying to figure all of this out. I don’t envy you.” Ada sank back on the couch and sighed. “But I’m here for you, and I always will be.”
Jo exhaled a calming breath and leaned her head back against a cushion. “I know. I appreciate it.”
Amelia satcross-legged on the couch, a half-finished glass of red in one hand, her phone resting on the cushion beside her as the wind howled outside. The TV played something she wasn’t watching, purely for the background noise and to stop her from going over everything in her mind. Tonight, she’d made a decision tonotattend Satin. Tonight, she had made the decision tonotbe Lia.
Her laptop was still open on the coffee table, plans for a derelict townhouse sitting on the screen. Another renovation. Another ‘opportunity’. She’d spent most of the week reviewing surveyor reports, hiring contractors, and finalising the deal on a converted Victorian terrace she’d been eyeing for months. The bones were good, and the area was even better. It was close enough to the centre but still quiet, tucked away behind a row of mature trees and garden walls.
It should have excited her; this was the kind of project she loved sinking her teeth into, but lately, even success felt flat. All she ever seemed to be doing was working or…wasting time. At Satin. In the dark.
She drew in a slow breath and swirled the wine in her glass. She wasn’t proud of what she’d been doing there, but she wasn’t ashamed either. She’d spent years pushing herself to be composed, professional, and respectable. Someone that people—especially her son—could rely on. But that came at a price. No one ever asked her whatshewanted. Least of all Amelia, herself. But she only had herself to blame. If she hadn’t allowed her past to dictate her future, she could have been in a much different position.
And now? Now, she was fifty-four and sleeping with strangers in the dark, clutching at a connection she should never have allowed.
Jo.
It had been three days since Jo had chosen the club over dinner. It had been three days since Jo had chosen Lia to spend the evening with rather than Amelia. And while Amelia had told herself she was okay with that, that she had no right to be upset…the truth was far messier.
She didn’t want Jo to pick Lia.
She wanted Jo to pick her.
But that wasn’t possible, was it? They’d agreed. She had drawn a line under whatever was simmering between them because it was the right thing to do. Because it would have been selfish not to. Because Amelia couldn’t face the potential tremendous loss if they went there, and she ultimately fucked it all up with Jo.
Only everything was blurred now. Lines had been crossed, and words that couldn’t be unsaid had been spoken. And then, after telling herself she would lessen contact with Jo this week after being blown off when it came to dinner plans, she had stupidly sent her a text an hour ago.
Amelia reached for her phone. As she lit up the screen, a new message appeared.
