Chapter 44
Amelia’s POV
For years, my life had been small, quiet, and, above all else, safe.
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Not perfect, not easy, not the dream I once thought I’d have, but safe. I had built walls out of routine and responsibility, out of sleepless nights with Scarlet curled against me and mornings where I dressed her for school while forcing a smile so she would believe her world was unshakable. I had convinced myself that safety was enough, that I didn’t need more.
And for the most part, it had worked.
Until Edmund came back.
Now, safety felt like a glass bubble I had been living in, only to watch it shatter the moment he walked through my door and said hello to our daughter.
I sat at the kitchen table long after everyone else had gone to bed, my hands wrapped around a mug that had long since gone cold. The house was still, but my mind was anything but. His voice still lingered in the corners of my thoughts. The way his hand trembled when he touched scarlet’s hair. The way his eyes softened when he watched her laugh.
And the way those same eyes pinned me in place when he told me he wanted us, wanted me.
God, I hated how much I wanted him back.
I pressed the heel of my hand against my chest as if I could steady the frantic thud beneath my ribs. I had survived losing him once. Could I survive it again? Worse, could scarlet?
The scrape of slippers against the floor pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. My mother appeared in the doorway, wrapped in her robe, her hair loose and silver in the dim light. She studied me for a moment before easing herself into the chair across from me.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked softly.
I shook my head. “Not really.”
She glanced at the untouched tea. “Too much on your mind.”
I gave a humorless laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable, but heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid. My mother had always had a way of seeing through me, no matter how hard I tried to hide.
Finally, she spoke. “He looked at her like she was the sun.”
My throat tightened. “I noticed.”
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Chapter 44
“You don’t trust him,” she said, not unkindly.
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“It’s not that simple, Mom.” I rubbed at my temples, trying to massage away the ache that had lived there for days. “I don’t even know what to feel. Part of me wants to believe him. To let him in. But the other part of me remembers what it felt like when he walked away. And if I let him close, if I let him into scarlet’s life, and he does that again…” My voice broke. “It won’t be me, he breaks this time. It’ll be her.”
My mother reached across the table, covering my hand with hers. Her skin was cool, her grip steady. “You can’t protect her from everything, Amelia. Not even from heartbreak.”
“I can try.” The words slipped out, sharper than I meant.
She gave me a look that was equal parts sympathy and reproach. “And in trying, will you break yourself?”
I looked down at our joined hands, ashamed of the tears pricking my eyes. “I don’t know what the right thing is anymore.”
*****
The next morning, scarlet was a burst of energy, showing off her new doll at the breakfast table. “Look, Mommy! She has my hair! And she has the same dress as me!”
Her excitement was pure, untainted. Watching her hug the doll to her chest nearly undid me.
“He said he’d see me again tomorrow,” she added brightly, her mouth full of toast. “Do you think he’ll bring her a friend?”
I froze, the butter knife still in my hand. He said he’d see me again tomorrow. He hadn’t said that to me. He’d said it to her.
I forced a smile. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
“Do you like him, Mommy?” she asked suddenly.
The question hit like a punch to the gut. Scarlet’s wide, innocent eyes searched mine, waiting for an answer.
I swallowed hard. “I… I think he’s someone very special.”
She grinned and nodded, satisfied. “I think so too.”
When she skipped off to her room to grab her schoolbag, I sat there, clutching the butter knife like it was at lifeline. Special. That was one word for it. Dangerous was another.
Later that day, I found myself walking through the park with scarlet after school, her small hand in mine. The crisp air carried the scent of leaves, and children’s laughter echoed from the playground. But my mind was elsewhere.
Edmund had texted me earlier, a simple Can we talk tonight? I hadn’t responded. I didn’t know if I could.
“Mommy?” scarlet tugged on my hand. “Are you sad?”
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Chapter 44
I blinked, startled. “What makes you say that?”
“You look like you want to cry, but you’re not.”
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Her words, so simple and so piercing, nearly undid me. I crouched down so we were eye level, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I’m just… thinking a lot.”
“About him?” she asked innocently.
I froze. “What do you mean?”
“The man who brought me my doll. He made you
smile.”
I let out a shaky laugh, trying to cover the sting of her observation. “You notice too much,” I said, “And he is your daddy, so call him that.”
She shrugged. “Grandma says I get it from you.”
I kissed her forehead, holding her close for a moment. God, don’t let me regret this.
That night, after Scarlet was asleep and the house was quiet again, I sat on the edge of my bed with my phone in my hand. Edmund’s message glowed on the screen, accusing me of its silence.
Can we talk tonight?
My thumb hovered over the keyboard. Every instinct screamed at me to say no, to keep the bubble intact for just a little longer. But another voice, quieter, more dangerous, whispered that maybe, just maybe, letting him in wouldn’t destroy us.
I typed and erased a dozen replies before finally settling on: Tomorrow. Not tonight.
I hit send before I could change my mind.
Lying back against the pillows, I stared at the ceiling, listening to the steady hum of the night. My chest ached with the weight of everything I couldn’t say out loud.
I wanted him. God help me, I wanted him more now than I ever had. But I feared him too.
Edmund had the power to give me everything I’d ever longed for love, family, belonging. But he also had the power to take it all away.
And I didn’t know which way he’d lean.
I closed my eyes, whispering into the dark, “I can’t tell if he’ll save us… or ruin us.”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
