Page 24 of Rewriting the Story

I know what she means. I feel it too, and I hate that the distance is there, but again, it’s my fault. “I’m not leaving again, Ella.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I know me saying this means nothing. After all the empty promises, unread messages, and unanswered calls, my words mean nothing. They shouldn't mean anything to you guys, because not once did they match my actions. I get it, Ella. Any bad thought you’ve had about me is the same thing I’ve thought about myself ten times over.”

She locks eyes with me, a knowing look passing through her features. She knows I understand what she’s saying. I’m not quite sure if shebelieves me when I say I’m not leaving, but maybe my actions will change that.

“I’m glad you understand it’s on you to fix this. You have to have these tough conversations since you were the one who left us, Amelia. It wasn't the other way around.”

“I know. I left physically and mentally. I ghosted. I fucked up,” I say as a few tears come to my eyes. Normally, I’m not much of a crier, but ever since I left, all I seem to do is cry. I guess suppressing my emotions only worked for twenty-three years. I had a good run, really, I did. “But there’s a lot you guys don’t know.”

“Always so self-aware, aren't you?” she says with a laugh. “If there’s a lot we don’t know, then tell us. All we’ve ever wanted was for you to be more open and honest with us. Communication is everything, Amelia. We never needed more than that from you. Just reciprocation in what we give you.”

“When the time is right, I will. But we just got here, and I still have to talk to Paige and Hads. I’ll get there, I promise, but give me a little grace.”

Her eyes pinch at me before they soften, and I can tell she knows something is up, because she goes quiet. For a few minutes, we don’t speak.

“Can I ask you something?” She breaks our silence.

“Of course.”

“Did you see my messages when I was over in England? Or was I texting a brick wall?”

“I saw them. I even almost responded—twice. I just couldn't. I was afraid to see you after all the time we lost. I knew you would put me in my place—rightfully so—and I wasn't in the right headspace to take that.” Not only was I overwhelmed with work, but I was also overwhelmed with trying to figure out where I fit over there—as a person, a partial citizen, and in my life. Her messages were only the beginning of my spiral.I knew I couldn't handle it, so I didn't even give myself the option. “Why were you in England anyway?”

“Do you actually want to know?”

I grab her hands, my legs crisscrossing underneath me as I sit up fully. “Yes, Ella. I do. I missed out on so much, and any story or detail you want to tell me, I want to hear.”

She looks at me, her big brown eyes taking in every word I say before she speaks again. “Leo’s father was rushed to the hospital after having a stroke. I came home after having dinner with him to Alissa frantically packing her suitcases, and they asked me to go with them, so I did. We took a flight over there, and I helped them through a really tough time. After he got back is when we finally got together.”

“Is his father okay?” I ask. A stroke is a huge deal, and I can’t imagine being an entire country away while something as big as that happens. Well, I guess I can, in a way. I was over here when I found out Grant was in a car accident, and even then, I couldn't seem to get myself on a plane. I can’t imagine how scared they all were, and I didn't even send a text.

It makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about that.

Ella jumped on a plane to help their family when they needed it, and I stayed put when Grant almost died. That’s where she and I differ.

“He is. You would have known that if you met me for a drink back then.”

“I know,” I say, dropping my head. “I know it means nothing coming from me, but I’m sorry for dropping off the face of the Earth.”

“I would say it’s okay, but it’s been fucking hard. Not only was so much happening in my personal life, but all of us were changing and shifting in so many ways without you. My mom came back, and you weren't here. Hads and Paige got engaged, and you weren't here. Grant was hurt, and you weren't here. No calls—nothing, Amelia. My mother, who abandoned me when I was a kid, came back, and my entire family forgave her, but I couldn't. You coming back sort of feels like that to me,and I don’t want to repeat it. I don't want you to waltz back in here with your false promises and break our hearts all over again. I won’t do it again. I won’t.”

I didn't know her mom came back. God, I can’t even imagine. Ella never really talked in depth about her childhood or anything to do with her mother, but she was always worrying about her dad and sister. I can’t even imagine how hard that was for her.

I wasn't here for her. God, I’m going to throw up by the end of this conversation.

“If it helps, I’ve pretty much felt like the worst person on the planet. I hit rock bottom, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to get myself out of it, so I had to do a lot of things out of my comfort zone the last few months. In a way, I’m glad I went to England, but I also regret a lot of the decisions I made while I was over there. I live with the regret every day for what I did to you guys, and I’m willing to do anything to prove I’m back for good. I’m not going to leave again, because—” My voice catches in my throat, and the next words I say struggle to get out. “I don’t want to leave the only family I’ve ever really known. Whatever’s left of my heart can’t handle that again. I can’t lose the only people who have fully accepted me, flaws, mistakes, and all. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s the truth.”

The two of us sit with our words, our sentences hanging in the air, and all I can hear are the waves crashing in the background while my brain starts to fill with other things I should blurt out, or other ways I can over explain myself.

It could be one minute, five, or ten before I hear the crinkle of the chip bag.

“Do you want some?” Ella asks me, and I take her gesture as a small lifeline in the middle of my thoughts running wild.

“Sure,” I say as I grab a few.

“That doesn't mean I fully forgive you,” she says as she gets up, leaving the bag on the chair. “But this conversation was a good start, Ames.”

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