Page 2 of Always There For You

Their evening. The thing she’d been looking forward to all day, warm comfort food over glasses of wine, and then later, cups of tea. Sitting together on the old rocker in the garden, watching twilight descend on that tiny place where nothing mattered but the two of them.

“Hold on.” Amelia wiggled out of Hadley’s grip, making her friend protest, but she waved her off. “Hold on.” Her bag was near the back door, and as she bent to dig through the front pocket, something in her back screamed. Even though she was used to pain on a certain level, this was the kind of thing that made her vision white out. Amelia bit back a gasp as her fingers curled around the key ring. She stood, keeping her face neutral, and came back to Hadley, hand outstretched. “You’re staying with me.”

Hadley stared hard at the key she held up. She could almost hear the gears clicking in her friend’s mind. Hadley would have stayed somewhere outside town, thinking Amelia would, in her typical fashion, want and need her space. But in truth, she wanted nothing more than Hadley to stay with her, tucked away in the little cottage she was renting. It wasn’t Hadley’s kind of space; probably too quaint and lacking quirky furniture or backwards faucet handles. But it did look like the inside of a witch’s cabin and that would appeal to her best friend’s more hippy, smell-the-roses-and-hug-the-trees side. She cast a glance up at the brick walls and smiled, knowing Hadley would help her fill the space with those unique pieces people would look at and discuss over wine and remember the next time they came in.

Next time

Because Breakwater was now home, and the mere thought of such a thing left her weak-kneed and shaky. Home. In a cute little place like this, with its square and its market and adorable pet population and all the people she’d yet to meet, the friends she’d yet to make.

Having Hadley here was a wonderful start. Because this was home.

“You’re staying with me,” Amelia finally said as she pressed the key into Hadley’s palm. “No arguments.”

“N-no. No arguments.” Her friend’s eyes were huge and hopeful. “But -“

“No arguments.”

Hadley’s answer was to launch herself into Amelia’s arms and laugh into her hair and leave Amelia feeling foolish and loved all at the same time.

Chapter two

When Amelia said cottage, Hadley immediately smelled pine and citrus, saw polished but worn wood floors, cozy nooks, and heavy, handmade quilts. Pin-neat, a little old-fashioned. Exactly the kind of place Amelia would like.

She sure as hell hadn’t expected what looked like the inside of a witch’s brothel. So she said as much. “Ames. What the fuck.”

Amelia lingered on the threshold, keys clenched in her hand as she leaned heavily against the doorframe. “Shit. I thought you’d like it.“

“I fucking love it. Holy hells.” Hadley whirled, grinning, arms outstretched as if to take in the whole place. Like she could feel its essence slipping through her. The drapey fabrics and fraying embroidery, the crooked drawers and squeaky doors, the herbs and plants and tassels and thick, velvety cushions. The very air felt right and while it was a weird thought, Hadley leaned into it.

But Amelia was looking at her with expectation and it all clicked. Fucking hell. “Did you rent this place for us?”

“It’s better than a hotel. It’s close to town but far enough out to see the stars.” One corner of Amelia’s mouth tugged up into a smile. “And I figured there’s enough here for both of us to like. If you want to stay, that is.”

Hadley wanted to squeeze her. Squeeze her and never let her go and take care of her always always always. Because for so long, Ames had taken care of her. Hadley’s payment was long overdue. She’d never ever say anything like that to Ames’s face, of course, unless she wanted a stern tongue-lashing.

Do. Not. Think. Like. That.

Because thoughts of tongues and Amelia quickly got bound up in her most secret fantasy, the one that still colored her face with shame even as she let it play about her mind in the humid dark while she gasped. It was rotten, that thing; some curse, befouling and besieging.

A terrible thing to be in love with your best friend.

And for Hadley, she’d been from the start. Head over heels in what she thought was love at eight years old and watching Ames’s bright red ponytail bounce as they hopped across chalk squares. Hadley could remember the scent of sunshine on hot pavement and the way pollen from the garden floated on the wind. It had been mid-July and humid as anything, and Amelia’s family had just moved in next door. They were instantly friends and Hadley had been so happy to see another girl her age. Growing up in a house full of boys would do that, and even though she was the youngest, Hadley had never liked being anyone’s “princess.” She scabbed her knees and ran through the woods and jumped in the mud like the rest of them.

Amelia didn’t do those things, not wanting to get dirty. And that didn’t matter. Because Amelia was smart and liked books and bugs, and they'd take their library books to the garden behind Amelia’s house and read until Hadley’s dad leaned over the fence and told her it was time for dinner.

She had buckets of those memories, so happy and full of joy. Buckets of days, of experiences; gray ones where rain lashed at the windows but she and Ames were safe and warm and dry inside her room, giggling and poking each other, or the sun-drenched ones where they ran and chased, kicking soccer balls back and forth, occasionally tumbling to the ground. If she concentrated, she could remember so many days where Amelia was there. More than a presence, but a fixture, a known quantity, in her life.

Her best friend. Her first love. Her only love.

Hadley had long ago realized that the way she loved Amelia was like no other feeling in the world. It wasn’t blind obsession or a childhood crush.

They were friends.

But friends didn't cover the depth of her love for Amelia. It couldn't.

Amelia was the most important person in her life. And like the good cliché went, Hadley had long ago realized her love was unrequited. Oh, she’d never asked, of course. Why the hell would she do that? But Amelia was the kind of person who, once an idea was in her head and the plan was laid out, could not be deterred from her path. She was as stubborn as anyone Hadley had ever met, and Hadley been around the world several times by this point. If she loved Hadley like that, she would have said so.

So Hadley put that love on a shelf, kept it safe, took it down to look at it on occasion. Sometimes it sat there for months, or even years, as she worked and traveled, had flings and occasionally fell for a woman in Greece or Brazil. But then, eventually, the quiet dark would set in and she’d take that little box down and look at that bit of her heart no one could ever touch except Ames and she’d weep.

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