Page 31

After a difficult dinner at her parents’ house, Amelia was glad to be home having a cup of tea by the fire with Tara. She hadn’t liked the way her parents had treated Tara. The looks, the comments, it all felt like an unspoken judgment.

Amelia had wanted to speak up, but she hadn’t known how. She never had. She only hoped Tara wouldn’t blame her too much for their treatment.

‘God, I’m tired,’ Tara said. ‘Must be all the fresh air.’

Amelia recognised the signal to go to bed, but before she went, she had to say something.

‘Tara,’ Amelia began, hesitating as she searched for the right words. ‘I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry about dinner. I know it wasn’t exactly… pleasant.’

Tara was silent for a moment before she replied, a wry edge to her voice. ‘You don’t need to apologise for them, Amelia. They didn’t do anything wrong, anyway.’

‘They weren’t nice. And they should have been. I think I should have said something,’ Amelia admitted quietly.

Tara let out a long breath. ‘It’s fine. They don’t owe me anything.’

‘They do. We all do,’ Amelia said.

Tara didn’t seem to know what to say to that. The silence stretched between them until Amelia couldn’t take anymore. She slapped her knees and stood. ‘Well, I’ll leave you to get ready for bed. You’ll need some rest. It’s the first day of spring tomorrow.’

‘Why will I need rest for that?’ Tara asked wearily.

‘Because we’re having a festival,’ Amelia explained. ‘For the first day of spring.’

Tara arched an eyebrow. ‘Is it called Spring Festival?’

Amelia sighed. ‘Yes.’

Tara smiled to herself.

‘It’ll be fun, I promise,’ Amelia said. Then she thought better of her claim. ‘It’s better than working, anyway.’

‘When you put it like that… Sounds great,’ Tara said kindly.

Amelia threw Tara a quick smile. ‘Well, goodnight.’

‘Night,’ Tara said.

Amelia went to bed.

***

Amelia had been tossing and turning in her bed for an age. It was no good. Her bladder had to be emptied. She’d have to be quiet so as not to disturb Tara.

But as she left the bedroom, she saw soft light spilling from the ajar bathroom door. Tara was awake.

Amelia wasn’t sure why she didn’t turn back to her room. She also didn’t know why her pace became soft and silent. Nor did she know why she was looking through the crack in the door.

As she stood there, just out of sight, she heard the soft sound of the water running as Tara rinsed off her face. What am I doing? Amelia thought. Announce yourself!

But she didn’t.

Tara moved to the mirror, her back to the door, her hands gathering her hair. She didn’t know she had an audience. Amelia took in the sight of her, caught between the instinct to look away and the strange force that seemed to hold her there. Tara was wearing a scant top and loose shorts, a stark contrast to the polished version of herself she usually projected. Here, in the soft light of the bathroom, she looked completely unguarded.

Amelia could feel the quiet hum of the house surrounding her, the stillness broken only by the sound of Tara’s breath, steady and calm as she began to stretch, her body moving in slow, languid motions. Amelia’s gaze followed the smooth arch of her back, the way her arms reached above her head, stretching to their fullest extent, muscles rippling under her skin with each movement.

Amelia was mesmerised.

Tara’s back arched higher, her shirt lifting just enough to reveal the smooth curve of her waist, the gentle curve of her spine. Amelia felt a strange feeling in her chest, her body suddenly hyper-aware of every small detail.

She should’ve turned away, should’ve given Tara the privacy she deserved. But she couldn’t. She was locked in place. The way Tara held herself, the way she moved with such fluidity, made Amelia feel something she hadn’t felt before. Something dangerous, something… exciting.

Tara bent over to pick up a towel, and it was then—just then—that Amelia’s mind snapped back to reality. She shouldn’t be here.

She turned quickly, her body stiff and tense, and hurried down the hallway, her feet stumbling as she made her way to her room.

Once inside, she closed the door shut behind her quietly, her back pressed against it as she struggled to steady her breathing. The image of Tara’s body, her movements so graceful, so natural, was burned into her mind, and the heat that had built in her chest wouldn’t leave.

Amelia moved away from the door and sat on the edge of her bed, her hands shaking slightly as she lay down and covered herself. Her mind was a mess of confusion, her body still humming with the aftershocks of what she had just experienced.

She couldn’t unsee it. Couldn’t unfeel it. The magnetism of Tara’s body was undeniable. And it terrified Amelia.