Page 71 of Full Court Crush

Amelia withdrew her own phone from her pocket and quickly found her sister’s page. She opened the message section, and her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

“What do I say?”

“How about ‘Merry Christmas?’” Keira suggested.

Amelia’s brow furrowed in concentration, anxiety rising in her throat.

Here goes nothing.

Hey, Clara. I just wanted to say merry Christmas.

She hesitated, then added more.

I really miss you.

Before she could second guess it, she pressed send, sending her vulnerability into the ether, and hoping it didn’t come back to bite her in the ass.

“Sent.”

“Proud of you,” Keira said. Amelia sensed Keira’s arm twitch by her side, but the motion didn’t materialize into a hug.

Amelia’s insides twisted with another pang of sadness. She could have really done with that hug. She reminded herself it was her own fault. Keira may have officially ended whatever it was they had, but Amelia was the one who had thrown it away out of fear. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to forgive herself for that. She had been so sure putting the team first was the right call, but now…

They walked in silence for a while, occasionally passing others also out for a stroll. Every twig of the trees they walked under had little frost coats. The four islands in the middle of the lake were wrapped in silt tendrils stretching out into the water, reaching out towards their neighbours.

“I’m really sorry,” Amelia said. She took a deep breath to help her keep her composure. “About the way I handled things. You didn’t deserve that.” She dared to glance at Keira, whose head hung low.

“It wasn’t just you. I wasn’t exactly at my best.” Keira sighed. “It’s just with everything with my dad — not that that’s an excuse — it all got a bit much. I’m sorry, too.”

She wanted to reach out to Keira. Wanted to take her hand and never let go. But Keira’s hands remained in her pockets.

“How is your dad?” Amelia asked gently.

“He’s doing okay, actually. The GP appointment we were worried about was just that his iron was low, can you believe that? I don’t know why they couldn’t just tell us that over the phone.”

“They’re not allowed to,” Amelia stated. Keira looked at her, confused. “Non medically trained staff, such as receptionists, aren’t allowed to give out anything that could be considered medical information. Including saying it was anaemia.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Not ideal for you, obviously, but it wouldn’t be appropriate for them to tell you.”

“Yeah, I get that. It seems obvious now you say it.”

“I’m glad he’s doing okay,” Amelia added, pleased when Keira smiled.

They walked along the long side of the lake, talking about everything and nothing. By the time they got to the promenade, between the end of the lake and a small children’s play area, Amelia’s jaw hurt from talking. They passed benches and decorative planters, all overshadowed by a tall, white lighthouse, with a Roman numeral clock on each face. Amelia wished she had a lighthouse to guide her, or warn her when she was about to get herself into trouble.

“It’s so chilly today.” Keira pulled her coat tighter around herself.

“We could stop for a coffee. Warm up a bit?” Amelia suggested. Keira’s lips had gone very white; the poor woman did look a little frozen.

Keira

The bell above the coffee shop door chimed as the two of them entered. The bitter cold of the outside world was replaced by a wave of warmth. Both immediately removed hats and gloves, and unzipped their coats. The cosy family-owned coffee shop had large, soft-looking armchairs, more like something from a personal library than a coffee shop in the centre of Cardiff. They got into line behind someone ordering a takeaway coffee, and Keira eyed up the menu board. After their walk, coffee alone wouldn’t be enough.

“Hi, how can I help you?” the barista behind the counter asked.

“What’re you having?” Amelia turned towards Keira.