Page 94 of Shattered Dreams

I don’t bother fighting her because I’m too exhausted and I’ve already fucked up twice tonight.

So I let Amelia lead me up the steps and into the house, locking the door behind us.

The house is quiet save for the faint hum of the TV in the living room. I collapse on the couch as she saunters towards the kitchen, and a moment later returns with a bottle of water, offering it to me.

I take it, but I don’t open it. I can’t.

“I just… wanted to be enough, but I’m not,” I say, staring at the bottle in my hands.

“Of course you are,” she says carefully, pulling up her legs to sit cross-legged next to me.

I shake my head.

“No, I’m not. I always come up short, and you know that better than anyone. I wasn’t enough for you either.”

Amelia lets out a long sigh.

“It’s not that simple,” she says. “Relationships are complicated.”

“No shit,” I mutter.

“But that doesn’t mean they aren’t worth it.”

I curl up on the couch and close my eyes.

“I didn’t know where else to go. How fucked up is that?”

Amelia lets out a soft chuckle.

“You remember the time in college, before we—” I open my eyes, meeting her gaze. “I was talking to that guy, Marcus or Michael or…”

“Matt? The douchebag with the weird mole?”

She laughs and I feel the faintest smile tug at my lips.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Remember how I showed up to the dorm so fucked up you had to offer to drive me to the Waffle House because it was the only place open?”

I shake my head. “How could I forget? You were ranting about wanting to key the dude’s car, and I was not about to let you get arrested,” I say as seriously as I can.

“And instead of keying his car, we hung out until I sobered up enough to realize I was being stupid, and then you took me home.”

I find her gaze, noting the warmth there.

“Yeah,” I say, my chest tight.

“You bring out the best in people because you are a good friend. You’re the best friend. You are the one who always saves everyone else.”

I swallow hard.

She’s not wrong.

I hang my head.

“Sometimes you need someone to save you,” she adds.

“Is that what you’re doing?” I ask, my voice tinged with bitterness. “Saving me?”

She shakes her head.