“Where did you hear that?” she had asked, her voice defensive, as if that was the crux of the issue. Did it really matter where I had found out?
“Does it matter, Mom?” I shot back, my voice trembling with amix of anger and hurt. “The point is that I know. You slept with someone else’s husband! Now his son hates me.” My heart pounded in my chest; each beat a reminder of the betrayal that felt like a knife twisting in my gut.
She shrugged, a dismissive gesture that only fueled the fire of my frustration. “That was a long time ago. I was grieving. Brian was there. It just happened. Not my problem that his boy is holding a grudge.”
“Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed, disbelief flooding my veins. “Not your problem? This is completely your problem! You started a war between us and the Baxter boys.” The words spilled out, a torrent of emotion that I had been holding back for far too long.
“Don’t blame me for your battles,” she retorted, crossing her arms defensively. “I am dealing with a lot, and I don’t need your accusations, now stop being such a brat!.” Her eyes were cold and unwavering; a fortress built against my hurt.
Of course, she wouldn’t acknowledge the chaos she had sown. What had I expected? “You’re not the only one dealing with grief, Mom,” I said, my voice softening, but edged with desperation. “I feel it too, and you are just making it worse by acting this way.”
She waved her hand dismissively, a gesture that ignited a fire in my blood. “Leave this alone, Amelia. It is ancient history. I don’t need this baggage from you.” Her tone was final; a door slamming shut on any hope of reconciliation.
“Fine!” I shouted, my voice breaking with emotion. “But the pain and shame will catch up to you, Mom. When it does, I might not be here to help you through it!”
I turned on my heel, storming out of the room, disgust swirling in my gut for the woman who was supposed to be my mother, yet felt like a stranger instead.
I ached to talk, to pour this poison out of me. Dante had tried to reach me after that night, but I’d vanished.
Now, with desperation tightening my chest, I dialed his number on the faded cream phone in the hall. The ringing shot through the empty rooms like a distress flare.
“Hello?” His voice drifted over the line, distant and warm.
“Dante?” I held my breath.
“Amelia. Are you okay?” His tone was polite, too composed for the chaos I felt roiling inside.
“No.” My voice cracked. I traced the chipped porcelain of a nearby vase with trembling fingers. “Can we meet at the park? I need… I need you.”
He paused long enough for fear to coil in my gut. “Things got kind of crazy last time.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “Please.”
His exhale was soft surrender. “All right. Our usual spot in thirty.”
I hung up, heart pounding like a frantic drum.
Thirty minutes later I sat on the bench beneath the sprawling oak, its ancient limbs creaking overhead. A chill breeze stirred golden leaves across the grass. My leg bounced, and my fingers drummed a restless rhythm on my knee. Each second stretched into an hour.
Then I saw him, striding down the winding path, shoulders squared against the wind. With every step, my pulse slammed harder against my ribs.
“Hey, Amelia.”
His soft voice pulled me back from the brink of my spiraling thoughts. The warmth of his presence halted the rising tide of apprehension within me.
I melted when he settled close, his body radiating comfort like a soothing lullaby.
“I’m sorry.” The words slipped from my lips, laden with agony.
“Were you just using me to hurt Caiden?” He wasted no time with pleasantries, diving straight into the heart of the matter. I had hoped he wouldn’t ask, but Dante was no fool.
“I don’t know.” I whispered, fear constricting my chest. The truth would send him away, and I desperately wanted him to stay, to wrap me in his arms and be the security blanket that my inner child so craved.
“C’mon, Amelia. Please don’t lie to me. I deserve the truth.” His voice trembled, revealing the pain behind his words. I realized this was hard for him, too.
“I was upset about Lillian. I don’t know. I needed someone to comfort me. To save me frommy sadness.”
“I can understand that. But I don’t remember texting Caiden to come to my house. It makes me think you only wanted to sleep with me to get some sort of revenge on him.” He paused, gathering his thoughts, then continued, “I’ve wanted to be with you for a while now. I like you a lot, Amelia. I wouldn’t have texted Caiden, even while drunk, to come over and potentially ruin that night for us.”
