Page 62 of Taboo
Sara’s smile fades as she speaks, her eyes clouding, and then she leans back. She is slow and thoughtful as she speaks, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass.
“She’s… struggling,” Sara says, her voice quieter now, heavy with worry. “The doctors are doing what they can, but it’s been hard. Her heart’s weaker than they thought, and… well, it’s a lot.” She pauses, her gaze dropping to the wine, the liquid trembling slightly in her hand. “That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you, Amelia. I have some bad news, and… a big favor to ask of you.”
My heart stops, a cold dread creeping up my spine. My hands are clasped tight, the scone forgotten. “What is it?” I ask, my voice strange even to my own ears.
Her eyes meet mine, earnest, almost desperate. Then she takes a deep breath and folds her hands in her lap, her knuckles white. “My mom’s actually deteriorated quite a bit, more than we anticipated,” she says, her voice trembling but steady, resolute. “I need to go back to her next week, just for another week, at most two. I know it’s a huge ask, especially with your work and your deadlines, but… would you stay? Another two weeks? Please? Jason loves you, Amelia—he’s so happy with you here. And Max…” She hesitates, her smile softening, tinged with something I can’t read. “He’s been different, lighter, since you’ve been here. I can’t stand the thought of leaving them alone again, not now, not when they’re so… settled.”
Her words hit like a wave.
For a few seconds, I can’t even breathe. Two more weeks with Max, with Jason, in this house, this life. It’s a gift, an incredible, radiant gift that sets my heart alight, and my skin tingling. Wow! The possibility of more stolen moments, more nights in his arms.
But it’s also a curse, a blade twisting deeper.
I know how much harder it’ll be to leave, to tear myself away from him when the time ends. My mind flashes to my publisher’s deadline, the half-finished sketches waiting, the pressure of work piling up, a tether pulling me back to my own life. I should go home, should run before this love consumes me, before I break under its weight, but Sara’s eyes plead, I see Jason’s grin, Max’s touch, the way he looks at me with so much love, and my resolve crumbles. No more than dust in the wind.
I hesitate, my fingers tightening on the stem of the glass. “Sara, I… I’ve got a deadline coming up,” I say, my voice soft, testing, trying to hold onto reason.
Her face falls, disappointment flickering in her brown eyes. “Oh, please, Amelia. Please help me.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it work,” I say quickly, the words spilling out, reckless, binding. “I can stay. For Jason. For you… and Max.” My voice sounds weird, guilt and love tangling, but Sara’s smile is bright, radiant.
“Oh, Amelia, thank you. Thank you so much,” she says, her voice brimming with gratitude. Her hand reaches for mine, squeezing it gently. “You have no idea how much this means to me. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. You’re family, and family always looks out for each other.”
Family. The word is a lie, a truth I can’t claim, not when I’m in love with her husband, not when I’ve crossed every line.
Impulsively, she leans forward and hugs me again, her arms tight, and I stiffen. I find I can no longer bear for her to touchme. Touching her and pretending to be her friend makes me feel like a hypocrite.
Two more weeks of Max and Jason, of this love, this life, knowing it’ll break me when it ends. The wine glass is heavy in my hand.
“Let’s drink to us,” she says merrily.
I force a smile. It feels brittle, but I raise my glass. “To us.”
Chapter
Forty
MAX
Sara’s words still burn in my ears. I think of her eyes dodging mine as she closed the door behind her. I’ve never met her mother. I was under the impression they had fallen out many years before we met, so I guess they must have made up. I don’t wish ill on her mother, but Sara’s ‘bad news’ is my ‘good news’.
What will it mean for me? Another stolen week? The staff will be around so it won’t be like how it was these last two weeks, but we will be able to squeeze a few more stolen hours in her bed, and it will give me a bit more time to consider what to do with my relationship with Sara.
The cold coffee on the desk mocks me, and I can no longer remain in the stuffy office. I rise to my feet and walk to the window. I stand looking out and spot Amelia in the garden, crouched by a rose bush. She calls to me like a magnet.
I push through the back door and step onto the patio. Amelia is yanking out a stubborn weed. Her denim shorts are smudged with earth. Her golden hair is tied back, but loose strands clingto her damp neck. Her tank top sticks to her back, outlining the dip of her spine.
For a moment, I watch her move, her fingers deft but fierce, tearing at the roots like she’s fighting something bigger than weeds. I’m floored by how easily she makes my world tilt, makes every moment sharper, brighter, just by being here. The sun’s high and blazing, and her cheeks are flushed, a pink glow that makes me want to pull her inside, away from the heat, into my arms.
“Hey,” I call, as I step closer. Gravel crunches under my boots. “It’s brutal out here. Maybe you should wait till the evening? You’re gonna burn. Come inside.” I try to keep it light, but there’s an edge to it, a need to protect her that I can’t hide.
She glances up, her green eyes catching mine, and a soft smile flickers.
“I’m fine. I almost never burn. Don’t you remember?” Her voice is low, steady, as she brushes dirt from her palms. She stands, wiping her brow with the back of her wrist, leaving a streak of soil, and I want to reach out, to wipe it away, to kiss the spot where it smudges her skin. But I hold back, my hands fisting at my sides, the air between us thick with everything we’re not saying.
I step closer, the scent of warm earth and her citrus shampoo hitting me, making my pulse race. “Did Sara speak to you?” I ask, my voice low, tight, searching her face for a clue to what’s coming.
Her gaze drops to the pile of weeds at her feet, her fingers twisting together, dirt caught under her nails. “Yeah. She told me she’s going away again next week. Her mom has deteriorated, so she’ll need to be with her for a little while longer. Another week, maybe two.”
