Just a Number(84)

Worried about what my dad’s going to do next, I dart between them, and the words leave my mouth before I can even think about whether they’re a mistake or not right now. “I love him!”

If it weren’t for the steady downpour of rain, I’d swear time stopped because both my dad and Owen stare at me for what seems like forever, though I know it to only be seconds—maybe a couple of minutes. My entire body is shivering from both the rain and the severity of this entire situation, and I wrap my arms around myself in hopes that it might help. It doesn’t.

“Excuse me?” Dad’s tone is soft, but no less angry, as he addresses me.

I look at Owen as he pushes himself up to stand. “I love you,” I repeat. While I realize that this is probably not the best or most romantic setting for my confession, it’s happened, and I don’t want to take it back, because I can see in Owen’s eyes that he feels the same way. I don’t need him to say it back—not yet.

But he does, and my heart soars, momentarily forgetting that my dad is here and that he’s furious with us.

“I love you, too.” Owen pulls me into his arms, and I offer him a small smile, lifting my hand up and brushing the blood from his bottom lip with my thumb. He rests his forehead against mine, and behind me, I hear my dad storming away, yelling profanities that get swallowed up by the storm.

Reality slams back down around me, suffocating me, and I push away from Owen. He keeps hold of my hand, only letting me get so far, and I watch as my Dad walks briskly down the sidewalk toward his vehicle. Shivering as the cold finally registers, I call after him, but he doesn’t hear me—or he’s ignoring me completely. I want to go after him, but Owen pulls me back toward my building.

“We need to give him time, Amelia,” he tries to tell me. “He’ll come around.”

I want to believe him, but I saw something in my dad’s eyes when he heard me profess my love for his friend of over thirty years, and I know it’s not going to be as simple as he wants me to think.





22. Sorry



I’m not sorry for continuing on with this relationship, even though I knew all along that it could strain or even jeopardize my friendship with Alan. What I’m sorry about is that he had to find out the way he did. It was never our intention to blindside him with the news.

So for that, I feel horrible.

Of course, on the flip side, I feel like it’s his own damn fault for showing up unannounced. Had Alan just picked up a damn phone to tell us he’d be showing up a day early…

I shake that particular thought off, because this isn’t his fault. Not in the slightest. I’m just so pissed off with how everything turned out that I can’t seem to think straight. I shouldn’t be placing the blame on him. There’s no way he could have known.

How did we fuck this up so royally?

My jaw throbs at the memory of Alan slugging me, and I wince when I bring my hand up to see if it’s any more swollen than before. It’s not, thankfully, but by morning, I’m sure that’ll all change. I know I had it coming, and yet, I honestly never thought it would come to that. Alan and I have had our fair share of disagreements over the years, but never—ever—had it come to blows. But he feels betrayed, so I can’t fault him for acting this way.

In his eyes, I probably deserved far worse than what I got, and I’m sure he would have loved to lay into me a little more—what father wouldn’t?—but Amelia was quick to shock him by confessing her true feelings for me. To say I was taken by surprise would be underselling my reaction. Hearing Amelia tell her father that she loved me made everything else that had happened seem like a really bad dream, and for just a split second, I reveled in it.

Until Alan walked away into the cold, rainy night.

Having known him for as long as I have, I know that this could have gone one of two ways. While he’s not a violent man by nature, he is extremely passionate about what he believes is right and wrong. In addition to this zest of his, he’s also known for stepping back from a situation and silently simmering over it, processing and thinking about how he can best handle it.

Although his intuition and ability to listen with an open mind are what makes him a great father and an asset to his job, he’s never had to apply those skills toward a personal situation of this magnitude, so it’s entirely possible he just didn’t want to face the news of Amelia and me and ran away instead. We’ll never know, though, if he keeps avoiding us. It’s not as though we can read his mind.

Amelia wants to go after him, but I know that nothing will be accomplished tonight. Plus, he’s already hurt her more than she’ll ever openly admit, which pisses me off, so I convince her to let him go for now. Naturally, she’s hesitant, but she succumbs to reason…