Page 13 of Actually Yours

“Different how?” I slow my speed down, just a touch so Amelia won’t notice, trying to prolong our time together.

I’m pathetic.

“I don’t know.” She sounds frustrated.With herself? With me for asking too many questions?“We used to do everything together, and now she’s someone’s wife. And I’m alone…”

Ahhh. So that’s it? She’s lonely?

“Bella sounds like a wonderful friend. I’m sure things won’t change between you.”

I feel her gaze on the side of my head, and I keep mine facing forward. Now is not the time to get lost in her big brown eyes.

“You think?” Her voice is both hopeful and doubtful.

“People get married all the time and don’t lose their friends. You’ll be fine.”

When she doesn’t reply, I hazard a quick look in her direction, seeing she’s nodding while staring out her window.

“Seriously,” I continue, wanting to make sure she’s feeling better before I drop her at her front door. And say goodbye. “My best friend got married a few months back and now I can’t get rid of him. He’s at my place all the time…I think he’s trying to get away from his wife, nagging him to pick up his socks.”

This pulls a laugh from her and I feel ten feet tall. Cheering her up, making her smile. It’s a minor victory for me, but one I’m happy to claim.

“Steven? Your best friend got married?”

I start.She remembers my best friend? Maybe I wasn’t the only one paying attention.

“Yeah, he and Jasmine got married in June. A winter wedding. They wanted a winter wonderland theme, and they got it. The day was freezing cold, so cold that the bride could have been her own ‘something blue’.”

She laughs again—victory!—and asks me to tell her more. I oblige, telling stories of lost rings and drunken speeches gone wrong.

“But through it all, Steven and Jasmine were oblivious. They were just thrilled to be husband and wife.”

“That’s how it should be.” Her voice is wistful again. “The wedding is just one day. It’s the relationship that comes after it that counts the most. My parents didn’t have the best relationship…”

She trails off again and I leave her words to sit between us. Silently willing her to open up to me.

“My dad left when I was sixteen.” Her words drop like a heavy stone. “For most of my life, he travelled for work and was away more than he was at home. My mum raised me pretty much on her own anyway.”

I say nothing, my stomach clenching at the bitterness in her tone.

“I could never understand why my dad loved his job more than me, why he chose his career over his family.” She stumbles on the word career and a few things fall into place. Namely, her attraction to men like Robby, who wouldn’t know a career if it bit him in the face.

“So, what happened?” I prompt into the silence.

“Well, one day, he didn’t come back from his trip. And pretty soon after that, he started another family with another woman, had a couple more kids and I became an afterthought.”

My heart hurts at the pain I hear in her voice and I’m inextricably angry at this man—her father—for ever making her feel this way.

“Anyway, that’s it. My sad story. It’s not even that unique really, just another tale of a man who can’t keep himself from straying …”

I want to argue, to tell her there are men out there who would cherish her and protect her heart. Men—a man likeme, who’d do anything for a chance with a woman like her. But I don’t. Because I’m not the man she wanted, the one she chose to be with all those months ago.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. And your mum.”

From the corner of my eye, I see her wipe away tears, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to pull over and take her into my arms. To offer her comfort. But I’m merely a stranger to her. That’s not what she’d want from me.Right?

“It was a long time ago,” she shrugs, pulling herself upright and back together. “I’m over it. I should be over it…”

We are silent for the remaining three-minute drive home. A mere handful of seconds that fly by all too quickly.

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