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I take a deep breath, not realizing how much I would struggle to drag up the past again.
“I miscarried the day we had that big fight in your office,” I tell him, twisting the bottom of my cardigan in my hands. “The doctor reassured me it’s quite normal early on and that I did nothing wrong. Sometimes these things can’t be helped.”
Will runs his fingers through his hair, then buries his face in his hands. I give him a moment to process this, not wanting to continue for fear of overwhelming him. When he lifts his face away from his hands, the skin bunches around his eyes with a look of anguish.
“After you left, I got into a car accident,” I continue, desperate to get this off my chest. “I wasn’t thinking and nearly killed myself.”
“Amelia,” he breathes.
“I know you think I just moved on, but I didn’t, Will. I didn’t expect the grief to hit me as it did. I never imagined leaving you to be so heartbreaking.” My hands clench into fists as I relieve the injuries which permanently scarred me. “The accident caused more problems. I broke my arm, suffered from insomnia because the trauma wouldn’t leave me. I was drowning with no way out. I thought I was broken goods, but slowly, I began to piece my life back together.”
And then, I admit the truth, which could change everything or possibly nothing at all.
“Seeing you with that kid, I kept thinking. It could have been us.”
Will continues to stare into the garden. “You should have told me to stay.”
“So you could resent me later in life?” I counter with a heavy sigh. “Your life was planned out well before I stepped back into it.”
“My business was planned out, not my life,” he reminds me, his tone shifting, and if I know him as well as I claim to, the resentment is evident in his voice. “But now you’re telling me this? I destroyed you when I thought leaving was the best decision for you. It was so you could live your life and do what you needed to do. What I knew I did
when I was your age.”
It all becomes more apparent. We were never on the same page. We were in love, a love which took us by surprise. But here we are, years later, trying to understand what happened in the past, how we went wrong. The thing is, we can sit here and analyze this until the sun comes up in the morning, but nothing will change the fact that we ultimately fell apart.
“We were too much too soon,” I murmur.
“That we were.”
We both sit in silence with the pale moonlight to keep us company. For tonight, we’d said the words we needed to say, and maybe we both need some space to think about this.
“Look, I’m really tired.” Will stands up, still keeping his distance. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe for breakfast or something?”
I’m slightly hurt by his willingness to leave but try my best not to take it personally. He learned a lot tonight, and that couldn’t have been easy to hear.
“I’m tired too,” I tell him. “See you tomorrow, Will.”
He doesn’t say another word, walking back toward the main house and leaving me alone in the shadows. I don’t cry, nor shed another tear. The damage is done. How we move on from here, I am not entirely sure just yet.
I joined everyone for an informal dinner by the pool. Notably absent is Will. A few people asked where he was with Nikki answering he had some urgent work to attend to. I try my best to act normal, unaffected by his absence.
Inside is a whole other story. I begin to worry, wondering if I should text him to make sure he is okay. But the more I mull it over, I come to the realization he needs space right now.
The dinner is loud, with more cocktails served. Eric loves being the center of attention, so of course, he tells stories which make everyone laugh. As the night wears on, the parents say goodbye reasonably early. There are plans to take a yacht out tomorrow for lunch, so everyone needs to be at the marina around ten.
My body is urging me to go to bed, despite Ava begging me to stay. Today has been too much, so I apologize but welcome the quiet time inside my bedroom.
After showering and dressing in my tank and shorts, I climb into bed and play catch up on my notifications. Austin has sent a few texts, which I respond too. He apologized for not answering the call earlier and promised to call tomorrow.
I start to think about my relationship with him, how safe I feel. Austin is my best friend; we’ve gone through so much together. But there is no denying the feelings which still linger toward Will. I’ve become trapped in my own mistakes, unsure what is right or wrong anymore.
The more I think about us, me and Will, the harder it is to picture without the baggage of our past relationship. We were damaged goods. There’s no other way to explain it. And perhaps all along we had an expiration date. There were too many factors that stopped us from being together.
My rampant thoughts become too much to bear. I grab my cardigan and throw it on, leaving my room to head toward the kitchen to find something to help me sleep.
The noise becomes louder as I walk past the dining room. I linger at the entrance to see Rocky dressed in a pair of boxers and sporting a sombrero. Across the table is Jessa, Luna, and toward the ends are Andy and Nash.
My eyes are drawn to Will, who is sitting beside Rocky.
