Amelia
Present Day
I’m exhausted; for the second day in a row I’ve written the entire day. I forgot how therapeutic writing can be, but unlike a romance novel, this one is about our lives. Plus, I miss them. They only go away one weekend a year but I still feel isolated while they’re gone.
It’s more than that, though. I’m scared this time. What if I don’t have the right answer for him when he comes back? Will he leave me for good? I can’t imagine he would; if it were reversed, I’d never be able to make that impossible decision.
The sky is dark and you can’t see the moon through the clouds. It’s the perfect night for a fire and cuddling, but the only thing I get to cuddle with tonight is my computer. There’s a bottle of wine mocking me from the kitchen counter. I’ve been trying to write without liquid courage today, but it’s late and I’m lonely, and I think it’s just what the doctor ordered.
When I reach the kitchen, there’s a knock at the door. It’s late, but whoever it is had to go through Ryan already, so I answer it.
“Mel! Sweetheart I’ve been calling you for hours. Are you okay?” Karen pulls me into a hug and releases me quickly so she can look me over.
“I’m fine, I’ve just been distracted. Actually, I’m about to have a glass of wine. Would you like to join me?”
With a smile, she removes her coat, “I’d love one.”
She follows me into the kitchen, where I pour us each a glass. “Come on, let’s go sit in the living room and we can talk.”
Her eyes roam across the boxes of notes, photos, and articles, before landing on my computer. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”
“Well, ultimatums will do that to a person,” I reply dryly.
“Good, maybe he should have given you one before.”
“Karen …”
She reaches with her free hand for mine and squeezes my fingers. “Life changes in the blink of an eye, Mel. We are all players in a rapidly changing game. But family always sticks together, sometimes in the most unconventional ways. Remember that. You’ll always be our daughter, no matter what you decide. Now, tell me what you’re doing.”
She releases my fingers, curls her feet up under her, and settles in with her wine. I love this woman, even when she tries my patience.
“I’m writing our story.” Her mouth drops and I shake my head. “Not their story, our story.”
“Explain the difference.”
“Their story is for their fans. The one with all the things they wanted the fans to know, to see how their lives were … you know, day-in-the-life-of-a-rock-star … but the real version. The crazies, the stress, the love, the fans, the media, the good and bad.”
She sips her wine and motions for me to continue. “Our story is about us. How we met, what it was like getting to know them, intertwining our lives, and falling in love. It’s so much more than their story, it’s our lives. The good, bad, and everything in between.”
“Well, if I were a BAD fan … which, you know … I’m not or anything … the second story you described is the one I would want to read. Because, in one form or another, everything you mentioned in the first story is out there already. People just have to search for it. But what you’re describing in the second book, that’s the true untold story … the one everyone would love to get their hands on.”
“It’s so personal. I can’t even picture it right now. I sent it to him, though. You know they’re snowed in, right? I’m assuming that’s why you’ve been trying to reach me?”
“They called and we talked. It was mentioned you might want someone to talk to. But I was worried when you weren’t picking up your phone.” Motherly concern fills her features and I know Karen would never lie to me anyway.
“Anna came by last night and I lied to her. I couldn’t even tell her I was writing about us. I’m a horrible person.”
“Amelia Weston, you are not. And no matter what guilt you carry around about what lies were told when, and to whom, you don’t have to tell anyone anything before you’re ready. Including my son. But I do believe he’s serious this time, and those are consequences you will have to face.”
I swallow a long draw of wine and exhale. “I know. It’s why I’m doing this.”
“You mentioned it’s personal, but would you consider letting me read it?” She looks hopeful and I know she loves me enough not to judge me.
“Would you promise to keep it to yourself? You’d have to read it here, I don’t want it leaving the house. And Karen, there’s sex in there … maybe it’s not such a good idea.”
With a delighted clap, she finishes her wine. “Let me text Owen I’m staying here tonight. I will keep it to myself and I’ll skip the sex. I’m all for a good romance but not when it involves my son. I’m assuming it’s a romance?”
“It is, until it isn’t, but you already know the story.”
She smiles lightly. “You mean it is, until it isn’t, until it is again.”
“Well, that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? I’ll send it to my Kindle for you. I need my computer to write. I finished the first part and sent it to him earlier. I’m almost done with the second part now, and tomorrow I’m going to wake up with the courage and determination to finish the third part if it kills me. Which it just might, hence the wine.”
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, Mel, now get the Kindle ready for me. I’m going to go put my pajamas on.”
Owen and Karen will probably always have a room here. Living in this house with so many people over the years hasn’t always been easy, especially when it comes to making it feel like a home instead of a house, but we’re working on that, too. One step at a time.
When I go to my email to send the document to my Kindle I notice he emailed me about an hour ago.
Hey,
I read your pages and they’re incredible. All your thoughts and your feelings … How come you’ve never been able to convey them to me that way? I guess this is you doing that now. I’m proud of you for making this effort. For putting your family’s needs first. For putting your own needs first. I know you didn’t see it before, but maybe you do now. I don’t just need your answer, Mel. I need you with me in every other way. It’s time to let the past go as best we can and live for tomorrow. Please send me the next part when you’re done. I love you, and I’m so fucking proud of you.
Before Karen finishes changing, I type out a quick reply.
Hey,
I miss you. I didn’t think I would miss you this much, but I do. The house is lonely without you guys, and tonight is the perfect night for wine, fire, and cuddling. Your mom is here now; thanks for sending her my way. She’s always a comfort when I’m stressed, but you already know that. Writing this book makes me feel like I’m in a dark, padded room trying to find my way to solid ground. It’s hard, so fucking hard, but the only way out is through, right? I’m working my way through for you, for me, and for us. I love you, too. Come home to me safely.
When Karen comes back, I pour us both another glass of wine and turn on the fire. After handing her my Kindle, I settle back into the couch with my laptop.
“Be truthful,” I tell her softly as she opens it up.
“Aren’t I always?”
She is, and she always has been, even when I haven’t wanted to hear it.