Page 161 of Modern Romance September 2025 1-4
“I suppose… I’d like to see you step back into yourself, Diego.”
He recoiled. He knew it was a metaphor, but he didn’t want to take that on. “And what on earth doesthatmean?”
She didn’t say anything for a long time. She stood there, eyebrows drawn together, expression serious. When she spoke, it was soft, but the words landed like daggers.
“My father wrote of you. In his journals. He saw a lot of himself in you.”
Diego didn’t realize he was shaking his head at first. When he realized it, he stopped.
“He had a similar relationship with his parents, except they were poor, so I think it was far more contentious and dangerous. But he saw a lot of the same wounds in you and wanted to help you heal them.”
“And you think forcing Christmas into my life will somehow heal me?”
“No. You have to want to heal yourself. Though I’m not sure I fully realized that until now. I did not realize how much you’d let the guilt poison you from the inside out.”
“Guilt is not a poison, Amelia. It is a fact.”
It was her turn to shake her head. “No. It is a feeling. Facts are that you did notcausethat plane crash. You can feel as though your actions did, but that isn’t a fact by any stretch of the imagination.”
He stood, some force of fury propelling him. “I would be careful how you characterize my guilt,tesoro. It is what got you a job and keeps you employed.”
She didn’t flinch or blanch or react in any of the ways he’d expected. Wanted.Needed.Lashing out was supposed to create a wedge. Supposed to ease this pressure inside his chest.
It always had, no matter how often Bartolo had warned him that someday it would backfire. Thatsomedayhe would meet someone who made that lash a source of guilt.
Little had Bartolo known what Diego could do withguilt.
Amelia very carefully got to her feet, calm and collected. “I have handled all the details of your life, your business, for these two years,” she said with the kind of quiet gravity he did not know how to interrupt. It held weight and heft, each word.
“I have thrown myself into it. When you threatened to fire me back at your cabin, I was terrified.” She shook her head. “Now I’m starting to think I should quit. Or allow you to fire me. Whichever should come first.”
He stared at her in utter shock for at what felt like a full minute before he found himself. “You cannotquit.”
“I could. I should.” She sighed, looking around the office. “Will I? I don’t know. I’m beginning to think this place, this life, is my own crutch. If I want you to give yours up, I suppose I have to give mine up.”
Before he could think of a thing to say, she crossed to him, gave his shoulder a friendly little pat. “We needn’t worry about it now. I’ll see the Christmas ball through. We can discuss it in the new year.”
He watched her go.Flee, essentially, like she couldn’t stand to be in this room with him for another second.
Like she got to decide. Likeshealone knew all the secrets to the universe. And he was a fool for not following along. For not jumping tohealexactly the way she wanted him to.
Except she’d run away.Run.After days of accusing him of only running and hiding. Now she was.
No. Not today.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Runningawaywasn’tthe answer, but Amelia had needed to get out of that room before she started crying.
Sherefusedto cry in front of him. Because he wouldn’t understand the real reason for her tears. It wasn’t him being harsh, or even threatening to fire her. It was nothing abouthim, but he would assume it was. Survivor’s guilt and self-absorption was all he had in him.
She knew this wasn’t true. The depth of his guilt hid something more than self-absorption. But for right now she wanted it to be that simple. Needed it to be that simple.
He was the problem, and she should wash her hands of him. Sheshouldquit. She should start making plans for getting him out of her life so he could not casually threaten her employment.
But first, she needed a good cry. Not because ofhim, but because of…a combination of things.
First, that album. All the smiling faces of people who were gone. People who’d never had the opportunity to fix their mistakes, if they would have taken the opportunity. Even though she hadn’t loved the Follieros as she’d loved her father, she still missed them. They had been kind to her. Aurora had been a friend of sorts. And Amelia did not know how to ignore that the injustice of the loss weighed heavy on her heart.
