Jo’s mouth ran dry. “Right.”
“I can leave,” Amelia offered suddenly. “If you want me to. I don’t want to make things worse for you.”
Jo didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want Amelia to leave, not really, but she also didn’t want to stand here feeling like her chest was being ripped open, trying not to remember what Amelia’s mouth felt like against her neck.
“Jo…” Amelia’s voice broke again. “Please just say something.”
Jo lifted her eyes to Amelia’s, but it hurt. Itphysicallyhurt to look at her. “I don’t think I can.”
And then the woman from before reappeared at Jo’s side with two drinks in hand. She glanced between them and cleared her throat. “Everything alright here?”
Jo tensed and closed her eyes.
“Is there a reason why you think it wouldn’t be?” When Jo opened her eyes again, Amelia’s stance changed entirely. Defensive…protective. “This is a private conversation that I don’t believe you were invited into.” She swallowed and turned her attention back to Jo. “Enjoy your evening. Goodbye, Jo.”
Amelia turned and walked away, and Jo didn’t stop her. She wanted to, in some fucked up way at least, but what would it achieve? The thought of sitting down and talking to Amelia filled her with dread. The anger hadn’t really subsided either. Not enough for them to have a sensible conversation. So, she watched the woman of her dreams return to the table Evie sat at, shaking her head as she hid herself halfway in the booth.
Whatever you do, don’t hurt her for the sake of it. That’s not who you are.
Jo stareddown at the drink in her hand like it was going to give her answers. It didn’t, but what itdiddo was give her the courage to sit in the same room as Amelia. It was the drink she would usually choose, the same brand of whiskey she usually drank in here, but tonight it tasted like nothing at all. It was just there, quenching her thirst and contributing to the hangover she would have in the morning.
Chloe, the woman she’d met as she’d walked in here, hadn’t stopped talking since they’d sat down. Something about her day job and something about travel. Jo tried to nod at the right times, she tried to smile when it was expected of her, but her eyes kept drifting to where Amelia sat. That gown. Those silky, smooth shoulders. The guilt and pain on her face when Jo hadn’t known how to hold a conversation with her.
She took a sip of her drink. A big one.
“Do you come here often?” Chloe asked with a teasing nudge. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.”
Jo almost laughed out loud. She used to come here for Lia, but now she knew Lia had been Amelia all along, and she had to wonder if this would be her last time at Satin. While it had initially brought her a sense of freedom, it just left her feeling bitterly disappointed now.
Jo should have seen it. She should have known Lia was Amelia. The softness, the scent, the things Lia had said in the dark. The way she’d touched Jo like sheknewher. She should have known Amelia’s voice and her presence. God, Ada had even put the idea in her head weeks ago, but Jo had brushed it off, certain Amelia wouldn’t do that to her.
“Not really.” Jo brought her glass to her lips again.
“Oh.” The woman looked slightly taken aback by Jo’s lack of enthusiasm, but somehow masked it with a flirtatious smile. “Well, maybe you’ll come more often now.”
Jo nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She hated this. The pretending, the drinking to forget, the half-hearted deflections when all she wanted was to scream at the top of her lungs…
Why did you lie to me? Why did you have to be her?
Jo finished the last of her drink in a few swallows and set the empty glass down on the table beside her. Her fingers trembled, her cheeks were probably flushed, and her mind was beginning to spiral all over again.
“Another?” Chloe asked, tilting her head in the direction of the bar.
Jo nodded, now chasing her escape via alcohol.
As Chloe left for the bar, Jo exhaled sharply and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and rubbing a hand down her face. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t who she was. But grief made you do strange things, didn’t it?
And what else could this be other than grief? It was certainly what it felt like. The aching pit in her stomach, the nausea rising in her throat, the pain in her chest where happiness and fond memories used to reside when she thought about Amelia.
They’d shared something real; she’d felt it. In every glance, every text, and every accidental brush of a hand. And in that dark room…God, she’d given herself over so freely and so fully.
But now, she didn’t know who she was hurting over. Amelia, Lia, or both.
She slumped back on the couch, allowing the music to course through her body. It was nothing more than a thrum beneath her skin that kept her tethered to the moment. A rhythm to drown out her own thoughts.
Chloe returned with another drink and placed it in Jo’s hand. “To new beginnings,” she said, raising her glass. “And drinking whiskey with a gorgeous woman.”
Jo clinked it half-heartedly and sipped. She didn’t feel better, only numb, but maybe that was exactly what she wanted and needed tonight.
