Probably.
I press the button on my phone and move to the staged area beneathShark. Scooping Amelia closer, I touch the letter to her lips and look past her wax mask, into her eyes. “Mail and A-mail-ia,” I murmur. “My two favorite things.”
When my phone camera flashes, I’m kissing the seal.
And when the sun sets…nothing happens.
Chapter Twenty-nine
If only I weren’t such a coward.
Amelia
I should die.
Whycouldn’t I just bebraveenough to tell Brian something heso very clearlyalready knows? What iswrongwith me?
Staring at the ceiling of my bedroom, I watch as morning light streams in through my windows to illuminate the shadows. I have lain here, watching those shadows live and die. I was here, at their inception, and now I am here at their end.
Ah, how fragile is life… How cruel…
Tired, my poor eyes close and open, and maybe it’s brighter, maybe I slept some just now, who knows?
All I know is that my self-loathing remains, and were I less of a coward, I might bite off and swallow my own tongue.
A knock sounds at my door, and I jump out of my own skin as the first rap descends into a pattern timed to “Jingle Bells.” Holding my breath, I stare. Time slips by, then my door cracks to reveal Brian, one hand holding my breakfast tray, the other covering his eyes.
He peeks between his fingers at me, and our eyes lock, so he drops his arm. “Oh. You’re awake.”
I am. Yes. I am awake, and I’m gripping my blankets, and I can’t breathe, and—
Warmth suffuses in his smile as he approaches. “Breakfast today is avocado toast, apple slices with caramel, and a blueberry muffin.”
Air enters my lungs like a saw blade. “I…thought you saiduntilthe ball? Which was yesterday. Don’t things go back to normal now?” And, if they have, why am I still in bed when it’s breakfast time? Here I am, yet again, thinking only about myself and allowing kindnesses to turn into complacency. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I’ve slept in.”
“Hey.” Brian sits beside me and pushes locks of my hair off my cheek. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m early. It’s early still.”
“It…is? It’s not breakfast time?”
He shakes his head. “No, I know how you think. I had to beat you before you could get right back into old habits. You see, itisthe day after the ball, and Iamsupposed to let things return to this ‘normal’ you speak of, but I still happen to love you, so I still want to take care of you. Too bad, so sad.” He kisses my hair and lets it flutter from his fingers. “You’ll get over it. Eventually.”
My chest squeezes, and it’s probably the sleep deprivation that loosens my lips. “What do you mean when you say that word?”
His innocent wide eyes deepen. Then, practically sultry, he asks, “What word?”
Oh…swear words.
I sink into my pillow and cover my face with my hands. “I’m so sorry…”
“A-mail—”
“I’mso, sosorry. I’m so stupid.” Tears gather in my eyes and spill. “You’ve known. You’ve known for a while, haven’t you? And I— I’ve known that you’ve known for a while, and it’s not like you haven’t made it obvious, but I couldn’t just—” I gasp for breath that burns. “—I couldn’t just get over myself andtell you. Even though you were waiting. All night.”
His fingers wrap around my wrist, pull my hand from my face so he can meet my tear-filled eyes.
I must look awful. Pathetic.
“Hey,” he soothes, swiping his thumb across my cheek. “I’ve been waiting longer than all night, precious girl…”