Page 43 of Taboo
“I believe in you. You’ve got this,” Ellie says, her voice warm, a smile in it. “Make the most of your time with him, Amelia. You deserve it.”
We hang up a few minutes later, and I sit there, the phone clutched in my hand. The room is quiet, save for the soft tick of the clock. The pink dress clings to my skin, and the lace beneath is no longer a dirty secret or a betrayal of Sara.
I won’t take her man away. That I vow.
Consoled, my heart lighter, the path ahead clearer. I stand, smoothing my dress, and head downstairs, my shoes whispering on the hardwood. I’m ready to face Max and the fragile, stolen time we’ve claimed for ourselves.
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
MAX
The SUV’s engine is a low rumble as I navigate through the city's streets. Jason is in the backseat, his sneakers kicking the back of my seat, but it’s not irritating. His chatter about a new video game is a bright thread in my head. Amelia sits beside me in a pink dress, her blonde hair catching the glow of passing streetlights.
I steal a look at her. Her profile is soft in the dim light, her lips parted as she watches the city blur by. She’s calm, but I see the slight tension in her shoulders. I'm having the time of my life, but I'm not oblivious that she is fighting the same demons that I am about what we are and what we are doing. “Are you okay?” I ask, my voice low, rough, barely audible over the engine.
She turns, the green lakes of her eyes catching mine. They are glowing as if in the setting sun. “Yeah,” she says, her voice soft, a small smile curving her lips. “Just… glad we’re doing this.” Her hand rests on the console, inches from mine, and I fight theurge to touch her, to lace my fingers with hers like I did all that summer. Our little secret.
“Me too,” I say, and swivel my gaze back to the road.
Jason’s voice pipes up, asking about pizza toppings.
Amelia answers, and I nod, half-listening, my mind on Amelia’s body under the pink dress.
The skating rink looms ahead, its neon sign flashing red and blue. It's a family place I haven’t been to in years—not since Sara and I stopped even trying to pretend we were that kind of couple, that kind of family. I pull into the lot, tires crunching gravel, and cut the engine. The sudden quiet is heavy with anticipation.
I turn to Jason. He is hopping with excitement. “You ready, buddy?”
“Do ducks swim?” he responds, unclipping his seatbelt.
Amelia and I laugh. And it occurs to me that Amelia and I are that kind of couple, that kind of family.
Inside, the rink is alive, the air is scented with the smell of greasy pizza and popcorn, and the thud of bass from pop music vibrates through the wood floor. Kids zip by on skates, their laughter easy and casual, weaving through families at tables piled with pizza boxes and soda pitchers. Jason’s eyes light up, his gray gaze darting to the rink, and Amelia smiles, ruffling his curls.
“Ready to skate, huh?” she asks, her voice warm and playful.
“You bet,” he nods, bouncing on his toes.
We grab a table near the rink, the red vinyl booth creaking under us. The waitress, a teenager with a ponytail, drops off menus, and Jason orders a pepperoni pizza. I watch him with surprise. His voice is louder than usual, and his excitement has broken through his normally shy demeanor. He is never like this. He looks almost like a different boy. I turn toward Amelia and watch how she is with him, the way she leans in, listening to his chatter about school, her smile genuine. She’s so good withhim, so natural. I hate to even think it, but even better than Sara is with him.
It hits me like a punch then, and causes a fierce ache in my chest. She’s not just my half-sister—she’s the mother I wanted for my children, she’s everything I’ve wanted, everything I can’t have, and seeing her with Jason, like she belongs here, tears me apart.
The pizza arrives, steaming, cheese stretching in gooey strands, and we dig in. It’s good pizza, the crust crisp, the pepperoni spicy on my tongue. Jason munches happily, sauce smearing his cheek. Amelia laughs, wiping at it with a napkin, her touch gentle. I can’t stop watching her, my eyes tracing the curve of her jaw, the way her dress hugs her body, the memory of her under me this morning a fire. I try to ignore the thoughts that fill my head, but it’s relentless, fueled by every move she makes.
Jason’s voice cuts through, small but curious. “Why do we never go out like this with Mommy?” he asks, his mouth full of pizza, his eyes flicking between us. “We never go out to eat like this. Not together.”
I freeze. The question hits like a jolt, and Amelia’s eyes snap to mine, surprise flashing through them. She sets her slice down, her fingers brushing the napkin, and leans toward him, her voice astonished. “You guys don’t do stuff like this? As a family?”
Jason shrugs, his gaze dropping to his plate, a shadow crossing his face. “No.” His voice is quiet, almost sad, and it twists something in me, a guilt I didn’t expect.
I swallow, my throat tight, and force a casual tone. “We’re busy, buddy. You know that. Work, school, stuff. We’re on vacation now… so it’s different.” The words feel hollow, a weak excuse, and Amelia’s searching stare pins me like she sees through it.
She tilts her head and looks at me. Her eyes hold mine, a quiet question, and I feel the weight of it, the unspoken, undeniable truth—that our marriage is a shell, a routine that bleeds and infects the child. Without the warmth. Without love. I never realized how withdrawn Jason had become until now. Soon, I will have to face my part in this strange arrangement I have made with Sara and make changes. Big changes that will ultimately benefit Jason. I don’t want Jason to grow up in a loveless household and think that is what a family should be like.
I lean closer, my voice low, just for her. “I lost my way, Amelia. I will find it again. For Jason’s sake.”
Her eyes fill with tears and concern for me.
