Page 14 of Yours Until Forever

I glance over at Amelia, trying to convince myself that I pushed my meeting with Max for Luna rather than for the opportunity to spend time with this woman who doesn’t want my attention but who has it anyway.

Switching from my texts to my inbox, I locate the email about the science fair as Amelia says, “Okay, so we’ve been given a mess to clean up.”

Right. Straight into it, which isn’t my preference.

“First, how are you?” I place my phone down.

She frowns. “I’m good. Why?”

“One of our last conversations was about your mother and ex upsetting you. Did you manage that situation?”

Still frowning. “You say ‘manage’ like figuring out personal relationships is a simple matter of negotiation.”

“Well, isn’t it?”

She stares at me like she can’t believe what I’ve just said. “Maybe it is for you, but for me, it’s never that simple. It’s not checklists and outcomes. It’s a mess of emotions, unspoken thoughts, and trying to keep the peace without losing myself. That’s not something you justmanage.”

I file that away. Amelia doesn’t do simple. She does layered. Complicated. Raw. And I’m beginning to think she’s never had someone who wanted to navigate all that with her.

“I didn’t mean it’s simple, Amelia.” My voice lowers, the weight of my own past pushing through. “I know all about messy. The emotions, the history, all of it. And I’ve learned the only choice is to face it head on and manage what you can.”

She’s quiet for a long beat, her gaze shifting away from mine before coming back to me. “No. I haven’t managed that situation yet.” Her voice is softer now and it seems like she’s going to elaborate, but she clears her throat and says, “Let’s get back to the science fair. We’ve got a lot to go over.”

I’d have preferred some more personal conversation before moving onto the fair, but I follow her lead because I’m a man who’s learned when not to push, and Amelia’s making it very clear not to right now.

“It’s a hell of a mess,” I agree. “I think we should just toss it all and start fresh.”

Amelia’s eyes go wide. “What? No.”

“Why not?” I point to the teacher’s email on my phone that includes an array of unfinished spreadsheets, vague notes, and unhelpful Pinterest screenshots that the previous parent was trying to pass off as a plan. “That’s a Pinterest graveyard, a half-baked science experiment of its own. There’s nothing useful for us to work with.”

Eyes still wide, like I’ve just suggested the worst idea she’s ever heard, she says, “Stephanie put a lot of time into these plans, and I think we should honor that. How would you feel if everything you’d worked hard on was scrapped by the people who took over your project?”

“I’d feel grateful that they took my mess and fixed it.”

Her brows furrow, her shoulders square like she’s ready for battle. “Gage. No. She did the best she could.”

Stephanie Monroe is a well-meaning but control-freak mother who insisted on managing the science fair alone. Other parents offered to co-plan it with her, but she refused. Then, her marriage broke down, and here we are. In a fucking mess because Stephanie might like control, but she appears to lack any kind of organizational skill.

She may have done the best she could, but frankly, her best doesn’t cut it.

I don’t say that to Amelia, though, because I’m a smart man and I know when I’m fighting a losing battle. Instead, I say, “Okay, let’s go through it all and come to a compromise on what to keep and what to improve on.”

She’s not having any of my bullshit “what to improve on.” She gives me a look. A pretty pointed one. “You do realize Stephanie’s enduring a lot of gossip over all this, right? The last thing I want to do is hurt her more.”

Amelia’s not the first woman to accuse me of being ruthless, but she’s the first to do it without bite, and without directly naming it. She simply lays out the facts for me to reconsider. I find it fucking refreshing.

“Okay.” I lean back against my seat, ready to listen. “What do you suggest?”

Surprise flickers in her eyes. Then, I’m given a smile, and fuck, her beauty only intensifies when she smiles like that. I may even agree with whatever she says if she keeps smiling at me like that, damn the consequences.

She retrieves a planner from her purse and opens it to a color-coded list that looks fairly extensive. “I’ve taken Stephanie’s ideas and expanded them.”

She launches into her suggestions for budget adjustments, volunteer recruitment and organization, logistics planning, communication with parents, the event schedule, and the set-up on the day. I’m impressed with not only the amount of work she’s already done on this, but also with every idea she shares.

We spend an hour going over it all, coming up with a plan for how to move forward. We’ve just finished agreeing that I’ll draft an email to send to Mrs. Liu by end of day tomorrow detailing everything when Amelia’s phone rings. She checks caller ID, and her instant scowl tells me she doesn’t want to answer the call.

“Sorry.” Her face twists with apology. “If I don’t take this, he’ll just keep calling.”

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