Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Marrying her was a mistake. And having Jason was the height of irresponsibility, and yet, I can’t regret having him. He is the one bright, shining thing in my life.
Of course, Sara doesn’t notice the storm brewing inside me. She just keeps talking to Amelia, her voice bright and excited, like she’s planning a goddamn picnic. “I know you illustrate the most beautiful children’s books,” she says, her hands still on Jason’s shoulders, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Jason has every one of them at home. He’s a huge fan of your work. And I know all artists love working in a studio with lots of light. We have such a space at our place too. We’ll make it perfect for you, I promise. You shouldn’t stay alone in this big house all by yourself. It’ll be so sad. I know you’ll be comfortable with family around. It’ll help you heal. Please consider it. It’d mean the world to us, especially to Jason. He’d love to get to know his Aunt Amelia.”
Her words are blades, each one slicing deeper, and I grip the counter behind me, my knuckles whitening. Family. Aunt Amelia. The terms are so wrong, so innocent, when my heart is screaming for something else. I can’t even look at Amelia, can’t bear to see what this is doing to her. Sara’s offer is a trap, not for Amelia, but for me, a test of control I’m not sure I can pass. I want to shout, to tell her to shut her mouth, but I bite my tongue. My temper is a coiled snake I can barely contain as it is. Amelia’s voice is soft and measured, and I brace myself for her answer.
“No, no,” she says, and relief floods me, loosening the knot in my chest. “I have a lot of work to do here. I can’t leave my home, not even for a little while.”
I exhale, the tension easing, but Sara doesn’t back down. She’s relentless, her smile unwavering, like she’s on a mission. “I understand,” she says, her tone gentle but insistent. “But please, think about it. We’d love to have you. It’d be so good for you to be with people who care.”
Jason moves then, his small hand reaching out to take Amelia’s, and my heart lurches. I watch, frozen, as she looks down at him, her translucent eyes softening, her expression melting into something so tender it steals my breath.
I know her—I’ve always known her—and I can see my son’s innocent touch has cracked her heart open. She wavers and panic spikes, sharp and cold. I want to intervene, to stop this madness before it goes any further, but what can I say without being brutal? It is so rare that Jason asks for something that I cannot outright deny him his shy but earnest request. I hold back, figuring I can fix it later, talk Sara out of it when we’re alone. For now, I stay silent, my jaw locked, my eyes fixed on Amelia.
She raises her gaze to me, searching, and I force my face to soften, to show her I’m not angry at her. I’m just worried. I don’t want her to think I’m against her, but this—this invitation—is a minefield, and I’m terrified of what it’ll do to us. Her eyes hold mine, a reassurance. She understands where my reservations come from, and then she speaks, her voice quiet but clear. “I’ll think about it,” she says, glancing at Sara. “And I’ll let you know.”
Sara’s face lights up, her hands clapping together in delight. “This is amazing news!” she exclaims, her voice bubbling with excitement. “It’d be such a pleasure to have you at our home. I’m so happy and excited, Amelia. Please, think about it and let us know. It’d mean so much to us, and to Jason.”
I stare at her, my wife, her joy a stark contrast to the storm raging in me.
Amelia nods, her smile tight, and the moment feels like a door creaking open to a place I can’t follow. “Thank you,” she says, her voice steady but distant.
They exchange goodbyes, Sara’s warmth filling the space, Jason’s small wave a quiet tug at my heart. I turn to Sara, my voice low, clipped. “Let’s go.”
She blinks, surprised. “Isn’t it a bit early? We’re family. We should help clean up.”
“You don’t need to clean up,” I snap, my temper slipping through the cracks. “She has helpers, housekeepers. Haven’t you noticed? She’s perfectly fine, Sara. She can take care of herself.”
Jason flinches at my tone, his small face clouding with fear, and guilt stabs me, quick. I take a breath, trying to rein in my annoyance, but it is a live wire, sparking with every word Sara says. She blithely blunders into difficult situations like a bull in a China shop. She doesn’t understand the danger she’s stirred, and it’s driving me off the edge. She can stay and clean up if she wants to. I need to get out of here, away from Amelia’s pull, before I lose what little control I have left.