“But they’ve crossed.”
Jo nodded as her throat constricted. “And it’s messing with my head.”
Amelia’s gaze was steady, but Jo couldn’t look into those gorgeous eyes. Half of the time, they were the fucking problem. “What would you do if the two were the same?”
Jo’s head snapped around. “What?”
“If…what you had with Lia and what you’re beginning to feel for me weren’t two separate things.”
“I-I don’t know.” Jo’s stomach flipped. “But what I do know is that I can’t stop thinking about you. I wake up thinking about you, I fall asleep picturing you, I wonder how to ask when I need you…”
Amelia’s eyes softened, but they quickly glossed over like she was holding back more than she could say. “You don’teverhave to ask when you need me.”
Jo smiled weakly. “I do. Because it’s not fair. You’re Callum’s mum, and I’m—” She gestured helplessly. “I’m me. A constant fucking mess.”
Amelia reached across the small space between them, her fingers grazing Jo’s. “You’renota mess. You’re just scared.”
Jo laughed, though none of this was funny. Not in the slightest. “Terrified, more like.”
“Me too,” Amelia admitted. “But I’d rather be scaredwithyou than keep pretending none of this is happening.”
Jo relaxed a little. “Even if I keep running away?”
Amelia nodded. “Even then.”
The weight of Amelia’s words settled deep in Jo’s chest. She’d wanted someone to say that for years. That they’d stay, even when she panicked. Even when she disappeared into herself. But before Jo could reply, her phone buzzed on the table.
Her heart dropped when she saw the name.
Callum.
The blood drained from her face. She reached for her phone, her thumb hovering over the screen, but she didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Not when she was sitting here, stupidly in love with his mum.
Instead, she turned to Amelia, her eyes wide with conflict. Amelia stared back at her, and in that look, Joknewwhat Callum was calling her for. Something neither of them was ready to face.
Amelia watchedthe colour drain from Jo’s face, her slender fingers clenched tightly around her phone as Callum’s name blinked back at her. Any warmth or hope between them had just vanished the moment they’d been interrupted. It felt as though the air had shifted. Hardened. Amelia could see it in Jo’s posture, in the way her shoulders tensed, in the glassiness of her stare.
Her own pulse rushed in her ears.
While she had come here to tell Jo about Callum and about Lia, she’d hoped they could have talked about the future beforehand. At least then, it may have softened the blow when it came to being honest about who she was at Satin. But there was no putting it off now. Especially not after the call Jo had just missed. It was time to come clean…and then lose the only woman she’d ever really cared about.
“I should have called you the second he called me,” Amelia said softly, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat. “He called me when I was getting ready to head over here.”
Jo slowly placed her phone face down on the coffee table and turned to her. “H-he’s coming back, isn’t he?”
Amelia nodded. “Thea broke up with him.”
Jo stared down at her hands and picked at her fingernails. Amelia wanted to reach out and take them in her own, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Because what came after their conversation about Callum was going to be the end of everything here. Amelia couldn’t leave this flat tonight with Jo’s skin lingering on her palms. She wouldn’t survive it.
“He said he wants to see if anything’s still there between you.”
Jo scoffed. “No thanks. I never want to see him again.”
“I’ll speak to him when he gets home. Tell him you’ve moved on,” Amelia wanted to take that burden from Jo. “I’ll make it clear that it’s not a good idea.”You selfish bitch!Amelia knew why she was offering to be the mediator in this. Because she wanted Jo for herself. “But I thought you should know. Before he shows up at your door pretending he’s the answer to your heartbreak.”
Jo sank back on the couch. “So, what does this mean for us?”
This was the moment she’d been dreading. A moment she had imagined over and over, in every possible version, butnothingshe’d rehearsed felt right. Nothing could cushion the blow. “I don’t think there can be an ‘us,’ Jo.”
