And what exactly was Amelia going to do? Tell Jo the truth now—after everything they’d shared, everything Jo had confessed last night—and watch her walk away with the very man she’d barely gotten over?
Amelia’sson.
Amelia swallowed the rise of nausea climbing up her throat. “Well, thanks for calling and letting me know,” she managed. “I’ll see you when you get home.”
“Thanks, Mum. I’ll see you soon.”
The silence in the car felt unbearable after that. As though every emotion she’d locked in her chest had finally started leaking out through the cracks. Amelia sat there, staring down at Jo’s text, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do now.
Because for the first time in this whole twisted mess, shereallydidn’t know.
Chapter Nineteen
Jo was curledup on the couch with a hot water bottle pressed to her lower back and a mug of peppermint tea going cold on the coffee table. She hadn’t intended to cancel tomorrow, but something about the way her emotions had caught up with her today made it impossible to think straight. She wasn’t ready forthatconversation. Not while she was still aching from the night before.
It had been stupid to let Lia in again, and it had been even more stupid to ask her to play the role of someone Jo knew she could never have. But in the moment, it had felt right. It had felt necessary. Safe, somehow. Because it wasn’treallyAmelia, and it was never going to be.
Only now,everythingwas more tangled than ever.
She’d tried to sleep it off throughout the day, she’d tried to eat something too, but Ada’s comments about pretending Lia was Amelia if things didn’t work out between them had left Jo stuck in a loop of fantasy and reality that made her feel borderline unhinged.
A knock at the door startled her. She sat upright, glancing at the time on her phone. It was almost 9 p.m. Ada wouldn’t showup unannounced this late in the evening, so that only left one person Jo could imagine standing on the other side of her door.
She crossed the room and opened it.
And there she was.
Amelia.
Hair slightly windblown, cheeks a little flushed from the chill in the air, her coat open over a form-fitting black jumper and jeans. She looked like the embodiment of every complicated feeling Jo had tried to push down since the moment she’d allowed what she felt for her back into her life again.
“You said tomorrow was no good,” Amelia said, shifting from side to side. “But I couldn’t wait.”
Jo’s breath hitched.
“I was worried something had happened,” Amelia added. “When you cancelled, I-I thought maybe?—”
“I just needed some space,” Jo cut in as she gripped the doorframe. She wasn’t sure whether to let Amelia in or hide behind it. “I…wasn’t expecting you.”
“I know, but I needed to see you.”
Jo swallowed. There was something in Amelia’s tone and the look in her eyes that told Jo she should let her inside. Something wasn’t right, and Amelia had been there for her, so now it was time to return that favour. Jo stepped aside. “Come in.”
Amelia passed her with a quiet ‘thank you’, removing her coat and hanging it up on the hook next to the door. She moved like she’d done it before. Like she knew the rhythm of Jo’s home. And she did…she’d helped her move in here just six months ago.
Jo closed the door and turned to face her. “Is everything okay?”
“Not really.” Amelia paused in the middle of the living room, searching Jo’s face. “But I thought it could be if we talked.”
Jo nodded, but her heart had started to pound. “Do you want tea or something?”
“No. I just…I want to talk.”
“If this is about me cancelling tomorrow.” Jo dropped down onto the couch and picked up her lukewarm peppermint tea. Maybe she should have opted for camomile with the hope it would calm her. “I can only be honest and say that I feel like I’vecompletelylost my grip on what I’m doing.”
Amelia sat beside her, leaving a respectful space between them. “I know what you mean.”
“I went to Satin last night to be with Lia so I could stop thinking about youagain.” Jo closed her eyes and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. If she didn’t, she was going to sob in Amelia’s arms. “I thought it would do me some good, that I could put everything into a little box and the two wouldn’t cross over.”
