Page 32

That’s What I Get by Wallows

My brain has been a mess for the last twenty-four hours, but as I listen to the girls talk about the most random things, I realize I have three wonderful humans in front of me who are on their way to forgiving me.

My brain is so scrambled from that kiss, I can’t even begin to sort through everything my mind, body, and heart are feeling.

“Ella, you promised me you didn't do anything too over the top.” Paige smirks, knowing over the top and Ella are words that often go together. “I said I didn't need anything too crazy.”

“And it’s not!” Ella says, but I can tell she’s lying. She told us to expect the unexpected tonight, and there’s not a doubt in my mind that she has something up her sleeve.

“Ells, I love you, but you said the same thing about your birthday this year, and Alissa dragged us all to a strip club,” Hads reminds us, but I wasn't present for that. Some of these conversations they have from when I wasn't around make the ache in my chest stronger, but I always remind myself I’m here now. One day, we’ll tell stories about these moments while sitting around with our families, catching up.

I can’t wait to get to those moments, but I also want time to slow down so I can savor this with them.

“Ames? Are you okay?” Paige asks me. “You’ve been more quiet than usual tonight.”

“I think I’m just a little tired,” I lie, and I can tell the three of them can see right through me. I don’t want this week to be all about me. That’s not why I came back.

“Don’t start lying to us again, Ames,” Ella says. “If you’re struggling with something, tell us about it.”

“Isn't that what you promised the three of us when we all sat down to talk?” Hads reminds me, and I nod.

“Yes, but it’s Paige’s wedding, and I don’t—”

“Stop with the bullshit excuses,” Paige tells me, and we all turn to look at her. The three of us are shocked at not only her tone, but her candor. “What? Just because it’s my wedding doesn't mean we can’t talk about anything else.”

The three of them turn and wait for me to start speaking. Not knowing where to start, I just open my mouth and let whatever comes out come out.

“Henry kissed me the other day.”

“What?” Paige all but leaps out of her spot on the couch.

“Henry Hayes? Kissed you?” Ella asks, shock lacing her tone.

“On purpose?” Hads asks, and then I launch into what happened on the beach .

By the time I’m done, I’ve paced around the entire living area, and I’m worried the chain on this necklace is going to break with the number of times I’ve moved the charm back and forth on it.

“I don’t know what to do going forward. Do we talk about the kiss, or do we pretend it never happened?” “Well, how did it make you feel?” Paige asks me, and I freeze.

“I don’t really know the answer to that,” I say as I start to think. How did it make me feel?

“Just tell us the first words that pop into your mind when you think about the kiss,” Hads says.

“Familiar. Confusing. Terrifying,” are the first three words that come out. “Wow.”

“That sounds about right, given your history with him,” Ella says. “And how you left things.”

“I know I fucked up. I thought it was best for us in the long run, but I went about it in the worst way possible. My therapist told me it’s because of my fucking brain.

My stupid, impulsive, annoying, chemically unbalanced brain.

” Sometimes, I feel okay about getting a diagnosis and knowing why I operate the way I do.

Other times, I get frustrated I won’t ever be different from this.

This is one of the frustrating times when my brain feels so disorganized, I can’t think straight.

“Maybe you should call her and update her about what’s been going on?” Hads offers.

“It’s not the worst idea,” Ella says. “But I’m glad you decided to talk to us about this, Amelia. We’re your friends, and we can understand how difficult it must be for you and Henry to be in the same place again.”

“Open communication is good. It’s what we need from all of us from now on,” Hads says.

“I’m working on it,” I remind them. “I can’t promise it won’t feel like pulling teeth sometimes, but I’m trying to get better. I want to get better at letting you guys in on everything. ”

Paige sits next to me, her hand on my arm. “That’s all we ask, Ames.”

“I’ll call her at some point. We have things to celebrate, and I don’t want my stupid feelings to intrude on them.”

“Good, because we only have a few minutes until my surprise.” Ella smirks before grabbing the champagne. “And not for nothing, an apology would go a long way, Amelia.”

“I tried to apologize on the beach, but it was all too much at once. The words could barely come out.” We both acted on emotions and not rational thought on the beach the other night.

Plus, that was the first time we really talked about everything.

It was bound to be how it was, but I wish I was better at talking.

It used to feel so easy with him, and now, we’re strangers trying to talk about how we once loved one another.

It’s a difficult situation to navigate, and it’s difficult because I made it so.

“That’s understandable, but apologies go a long way, especially now that you’re actually backing your words with actions.

We can all see that. Since you apologized to us, you’ve been more present, more open.

So, just show him the same, and you’ll be golden,” Hads tells me as a few knocks hit the door.

“Thank God. We need some better vibes in here,” Ella says as she goes to answer it. “Who is it?”

There’s no answer, but as I look around the room, I feel nothing but warmth. Paige is smiling from ear to ear about whatever is going to happen tonight. Hads is sipping wine and relaxing for once, and Ella has just let in a giant cake, or so it appears.

“Oh my God,” I say, knowing exactly what tonight entails.

And then a stripper jumps out of the cake, and the four of us scream as the party begins.

I knock twice on the door to the hotel room all the boys inhabit, and I unfortunately don’t have time to second guess my decision to come here at two in the morning, because the door opens immediately.

Honestly, if I didn't do this tonight, I would give myself a thousand reasons not to do it in the next few days. I know myself well enough, and I would do anything to avoid this conversation. But the girls were right. I need to apologize and back up my actions, because when I look back, I want to be able to tell myself I did the right thing in trying to mend my mistakes. I want my future self to know I tried my hardest. I won’t be able to live with myself if I didn't.

“What are you doing here? I thought Grant already saged the demon out of our room?”

“Funny, Oliver. Always so funny,” I say as I stand in front of him. I would have loved for literally anyone else to have answered the door—even Leo, who I don’t know as well, would have been a better option.

“I’m surprised you were even here when I opened the door and weren't playing ding-dong ditch.”

I cock my head at him, already annoyed. This is not how I wanted to start this out, especially since I’m already feeling self-conscious. “Are you done?”

“No, but what do you want, Amelia?”

That’s a fair question. “Can I come in? I need to talk to Henry.”

“How do you know he’s awake?”

“I don’t,” I tell him.

“So, you just showed up here wanting to talk to him in the early hours of the morning?”

“Yes. Now, are you going to let me in or not?”

He says nothing as he moves out of the way, and I take that as a silent invitation in, noticing their room is exactly the same as ours, just mirrored. I look around, not knowing which door he’s behind as I feel Oliver staring at the back of my head.

“Lucky for you, he’s still awake. I’ve heard him typing for the last hour. He’s almost as bad as Paige and Grant.”

“Which door?”

He points to the one in the corner, and I don’t bother thanking Oliver as I knock on the door, mentally preparing myself for whatever lies ahead.

I hear the typing Oliver mentioned stop, and when he opens the door wearing no shirt and just sweatpants, I freeze. Every word I had memorized to tell him is suddenly gone.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, running a hand through his hair.

“Can we talk?”

He looks at me for a moment and, under his gaze, I start to wrap my cardigan around myself. “Uh, sure.”

I head into his room, and he closes the door, the air thick with tension as I turn around and face him, doing my best to keep my head up and not fall into myself and my thoughts like I often do.

But I have to do this. He deserves to hear this from me. After all I’ve put him through, he deserves for me to not be a coward, to not run for once.

“I’m sorry,” is all I can manage to get out.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, Henry. For all of it. For breaking your heart, for saying what I did at the airport, for running from you when—” My voice breaks, and I remind myself to breathe. I’m talking way too fast.

I’m sorry for running when all you wanted to do was love me .

“Amelia?”

“Just please, let me get this all out,” I say as my mind spirals.

I take a deep breath as I get my breathing back under control.

The weight of all I’ve done crushes me, but I muster through.

“I’m sorry, Henry, and I know saying this doesn't erase what I did.

It doesn't take away the pain I caused you, and it doesn't make me feel any less shitty, but I need you to know I think about that conversation we had at the airport a lot.”

“You do?” Surprise covers his face.

“Of course I do. I was horrible to you. I said all this shit I didn't mean, and I broke your heart because I thought it was for the best. I regret every single thing that came out of my mouth that day.”

“So you regret what you said but not what you did? You regret the words but not your actions?” No. No, I regret all of it. Fuck, how did I ruin a fucking apology? He sits on his bed, his head in his hands. “Amelia, this is so typical of you.”

“What?”

“Did you know I chased you through the airport? I bought a ticket and got through security, feeling like a madman as I ran through the airport trying to catch you at your gate so I could try to convince you that you were wrong.” He shakes his head as he runs his hands down his face, discarding his glasses next to him.

“I screamed for you through the airport as one last ditch effort to get you to talk, and you didn't even turn around.”

“Nobody can blame me more than I blame myself, Henry. I regret everything I did, but I thought leaving was what was best for me and my career. I can’t apologize for doing what I thought was best for myself at that time.

” I truly thought getting on that plane was what I had to do.

If I could go back and do it all differently, I would, but in another way, I wouldn't, because it led me here to the person I am now.

Living abroad changed me. It changed how I view every single thing about my life. By leaving the place I had known all my life, I learned new things. I had new experiences. I grew as a person. I lost who I was too.

If I had stayed here, I don’t know if I would have had the same epiphanies. England taught me a lot about myself, but it also smacked me in the face with a lot of different things.

“So what exactly are you apologizing for? For the words you said to me that day? You can’t take them back, Amelia. Unlike you, I understand the words I say have meaning, and I would never have said to you what you said to me.”

“I’m apologizing for all of it, Henry. I needed you to know I regret how I went about everything, and—”

“I understand why you feel like you had to leave, but I’ll never get why you destroyed us before you left.

You could have broken my heart in a thousand different ways, but choosing to do it at the airport on the day you left was cruel.

Amelia, you’re a cruel person, and I know you know that, but if you had just talked to me…

” He trails off, his voice thick with emotion as I stand in front of him, suddenly wanting to collapse. “I was blindsided at that airport.”

“I know, and I’m—”

“Stop with the half-assed apologies. Why did you leave how you did?” He stands and comes over to me, fresh tears washing down his face as he looks at me, eyes pleading for me to tell him the full truth.

“The night before you left, you whispered that you loved me before we went to sleep.

We shared headphones, we connected, we loved each other.

I kissed your neck where your necklace sat before we fell asleep, and I heard you say it back to me, only to turn around the next day and tell me you weren't capable of loving me.”

“Henry, I’m—”

“No, Amelia. I don’t think you're capable of being sorry for what you did. I think you feel guilty and are trying to erase that to make yourself feel better.” He walks toward me, and I step back, trying to get the truth away from me but knowing he’s right.

My back hits the dresser, and he cages me in with both arms so I can’t run.

“Why did you leave like that? I know there’s a reason, and I’ve racked my brain for years trying to figure out what would make you run from me like that. ”

I can’t tell him. I can’t tell him about how scared I was of how serious we were getting. I can’t tell him what I found that day in his apartment.

“Because I had to, Henry. We had careers to start, and we couldn't have done that tied together how we were.” I’m afraid of forever.

Forever feels like a death sentence if I think about it too hard.

It’s the walls closing in on me, and at twenty-two, forever felt impossible.

I wasn't looking to attain it back then, and maybe not even now.

My brain can barely handle a few minutes ahead, let alone years. I made the decision impulsively, not thinking about the ripple effect it would cause. That’s not how my brain works.

I meet his gaze, our breathing matching as what I said hangs in the air between us. And then, he pulls away, standing as far from me as he can as he motions for me to leave, his hand outstretched for the exit. I don’t wait for him to say anything before I head for the door.

“Did you even love me?”

I stop in my tracks, my hand resting on the doorknob. “I love you with every molecule of myself I’m capable of.”

As I look back at him, I find his entire body stopped dead in his tracks. He knows what I said. He knows I didn't say it in the past tense, but I leave before he asks me about it, feeling too overwhelmed.

I get back to my room, the tears still flowing, because everything he said about me is right.

I’m a coward. I’m cruel. I was an idiot to think that, in the future, Henry and I could be some sort of civil, even friends.

Because after what I did, how could we get back to even a semblance of how we were before?

I ruined any shred of that when I stood in front of him and lied right to his face.