Page 68 of After All This Time

And if I have to be the asshole who drags it out of her, so be it.

"You got your earbuds? Wouldn't want you losing sleep because she's screaming my name."

Her head snaps back to me like I just struck a match in a room full of gasoline. Her eyes blaze, the fury in them so sharp it feels like a blade against my throat.

There she is.

That's it, Firefly. Burn for me.

But the flame dies as quickly as it sparked, replaced by something worse—emptiness. Without a word, she reaches for her phone, fingers tapping against the screen before pressing it to her ear.

"Hey, Tate. I'm sorry I left so fast last night, but I was wondering if you wanted to come over. Finish what we started?"

What. The. Fuck?

"Put the phone down," I snap, my voice low and desperate, but she keeps going like I'm not even in the room.

"Yeah, my place. It's—"

I move before I can think, snatching the phone from her grip. The screen's black. Locked. No call. No Tate.

"Don't fuck with me, Tobias, I'm not in the mood."

I swallow hard, but the lump in my throat doesn't go anywhere. Amelia's pissed—no, she's more than pissed. She's done. She's checked out, and the look in her eyes makes it clear that I might not be able to come back from this.

I realize I've pushed too far—but fuck, I don't know how to pull back.

I set her phone on the bed and walk to her bedroom door, gripping the handle, ready to leave and put an end to this mess. But I can't, not without saying something.

I turn back to her, catching her gaze—dark, stubborn, and filled with every emotion she's trying to hide.

"I'm going to bed alone. But you already know that."

Chapter 26

Tobias

I've kept out of Amelia's way all week. Not because I wanted to but because I needed to. We've seen each other in passing, but I've made myself scarce, hanging out at Harry's and pushing Jen's patience to its absolute limit.

I've also spent some time at Zane and Tessa's place. She's got this way of making the world feel less heavy, and we've got our thing—movies and zero judgment when life feels like it's imploding. It's a safe space, even if we both know it's just a band-aid on a bullet wound.

Tomorrow, Amelia and I are headed to Pennsylvania to see our parents. She doesn't know I'm riding shotgun yet, but there's no chance in hell I'm letting this opportunity slip through my fingers. Hours trapped in a car together might blow up in my face, but screw it—we need this—both of us.

When I walk through the front door after work, the sound of the TV greets me, and it takes exactly three seconds for the familiar voice to chime in with,"XOXO."

I don't even need to look at the screen to know what it is. How many times has she rewatched this now? Five? Ten? It's a ridiculous number, but it's her ridiculous number. It's her comfort show, her go-to when her world's a mess and she needs a soft place to land. And now I just feel like an ass for bailing without an explanation.

I step further inside, dropping my keys on the counter with a soft clink, and there she is—curled up in her spot like always, legs twisted into that human pretzel thing she does, wrapped in the blanket she's claimed as her own. The glow of the screen dances across her face, and for a second, I stop and stare. I should say something. Apologize. Break the silence that's been building all week.Instead, I let the moment stretch out, let the silence wrap around me, and let her presence do what it always does—steady me in a way nothing else can.

"Hey," I say softly.

Amelia doesn't turn her head, but I hear a gentle "Hey" slip from her lips, so quiet it's almost lost under the sound of the TV.

"What season are you on?"

"Three," she replies, still not looking at me, her eyes glued to the screen.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I lean down and kiss the top of her head in the affectionate way I always have.

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