Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Yes, this is your Aunt Amelia,” he says, his voice tight. “Say hello.”
Jason’s cheeks flush, and he looks up at me, his smile tentative. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you.”
I lower myself to his level, my knees brushing the cool tile, and meet his gaze.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” I say, my voice trembling with the effort to stay composed. My hand reaches out, unthinking, to touch his cheek—soft, pink, warm under my fingers. “What’s your name?”
“Jason,” he says, his smile growing, a spark of pride in his voice.
“Hi, Jason,” I whisper, my eyes burning. “It’s very nice to meet you.” The words feel inadequate, but they’re all I have, a fragile bridge to this boy who carries so much of Max in him.
I glance up, and Sara is moving closer. She rests her hands lightly on Jason’s shoulders as he smiles down at me. Her smile is kind and loving, and it’s a jolt to see her so at ease. She is trying to weave me into her family because she can see I’m on the outside, alone, with no one to hold me together. The contrast between us is stark—she has Max and Jason, and I have an empty house, an empty heart.
A flicker of envy stirs, but I push it down, ashamed of the impulse. She’s done nothing to me, nothing to deserve my resentment. I hate this self-pity, this new wave of loneliness that threatens to pull me under. I catch Max’s eyes again, burning with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.
“Hey, Amelia,” Sara says, her voice warm, pulling me back.
I manage a smile, brittle but genuine, forcing it past the lump in my throat. “Thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome. It’s so nice to meet you,” she replies, her eyes bright, sincere. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Her words catch me off guard, and I glance at Max, and see a flash of annoyance in his expression, his jaw tightening. It’s subtle, but it’s there. I wonder what he’s told her, what stories he’s shared about me. Sara doesn’t seem to notice; her smile is unwavering. It makes me question if she truly knows him, the way I do—the depths of his heart, the shadows he carries. I shake the thought away and focus on her words.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she says softly. “I wish there was something we could do to help you through this. You’re family, after all.”
I don’t look at Max, though I feel his gaze burning into me. “Thank you, but I’m fine. I’ll recover. Everyone does, eventually.” I force another smile. Avoiding the pull of Max’s stare, I keep my eyes fixed on Sara. “Thank you for being here. I really appreciate the gesture. Perhaps I’ll see you later. I’m… I’m just going to head upstairs for a bit.”
Before I can move, Sara reaches out, her hand gentle but firm on my arm, stopping me. “This might sound crazy,” she says, her eyes earnest, “but we’d love to support you, especially now, when you’re so alone. Would you consider coming to our home, spending some time with us? Jason should get to know his aunt better, and being around people who truly care about you will help you heal faster.”
Obviously, I can never take her up on her offer, but her words stun me, a kindness I didn’t expect. I turn to Max, and his face is a mask of shock, his eyes wide, fixed on Sara like she’s suddenly started speaking in tongues. He’s even more shaken than I am, and the realization sends a ripple of pain through me.
He doesn’t want me at his home.
Chapter
Seven
MAX
Amelia’s eyes hold mine. She has caught the shock carved into my face.
Sara’s invitation—her reckless, unthinking offer for Amelia to stay with us—has lit a fuse I can’t extinguish. How dare she interfere when I have made it crystal clear that my relationship with my family is fraught with difficulty and none of her business? Fury simmers in my chest, hot and tight, but I’ve never been one to spill my true feelings, not to Sara, not to anyone. I don’t expect her to read the rage in my eyes.
But my blood is roaring in my ears, my jaw clenches like a vice, and I burn with it.
She’s playing with fire, tossing Amelia into our lives without a hint of caution, and she doesn’t even know it. Doesn’t know the danger of having Amelia under my roof, her presence will be a flame to the dry tinder I’ve spent fourteen years trying to damp down. Sara’s just invited my half-sister to unravel me in my own home. I stare at her, my wife, her blonde hair glowing under the kitchen’s harsh light, her smile oblivious, and I realize I can barely tolerate her presence. I spend as little time as possible at home to avoid her.