Amelia
My grandmother hands me a steaming mug of tea.
“Thanks,” I say, fingers stinging as I wrap them around the mug. I sip. Cough. “Did you put whiskey in this?”
“Breakfast of champions.” She takes a seat across from me at her kitchen table and frowns. “Really, breakfast of the heartbroken. Drink up.”
I do as she says and get my 7 A.M. buzz on. Tears trail silently down my face as the smell of Rose’s strawberry muffins baking in the oven fills the room. Rose doesn’t ask, and I don’t tell. We just sip our spiked tea in blessed silence.
I’m exhausted to the point I’m almost delirious. My head is pounding, and I feel weirdly hot. We partied hard last night. Looking back, I think I just wanted to dull the creeping sense that the proverbial train was going off the tracks.
“It all just happened so quickly,” I say, staring out the window over Grandma Rose’s shoulder.
“To be fair, you and Rhett have history. Lots of it.”
“Yeah, but even this—like, Rhett getting the contract offer one day, telling me he has serious doubts about it that morning, then getting on a plane with his agent and his coach to talk about signing it a few days after that . . .” I scoff. “And yeah, then there’s the whole thing about us falling in love over the course of one freaking week. What a ridiculous whirlwind.”
The oven timer dings. Grandma rises and pulls a tray of muffins out of the oven, their tops glistening with a turbinado sugar crust. The heavenly smell is enough to momentarily stop my deluge of tears. “You were blindsided.” She pulls off her floral oven mitts and drops them onto the counter. “By love.”
“I was blindsided by my idiot heart.” My face crumples. “Again.”
Rose settles an arm across my shoulders. “Oh, lovie. I’m so sorry.”
I nod, too emotional to reply for several heartbeats.
“I’m embarrassed,” I say at last. “Acting like I did with him, it was ridiculous. Who does that? Falls in love in five days? Makes plans to move across the country? Grandma, there was a kid involved. I feel horrible.”
My grandmother rubs my shoulder, a steady, slow motion. “You were excellent with Liam, Amelia. Don’t beat yourself up about that.”
“I can beat myself up for disappointing the little guy. The two of us were just hitting our stride, and now I’m abandoning him.” I shake my head. “I hate him. Rhett, I mean. And I hate myself for believing him.”
Rose’s hand pauses on my upper arm. Squeezes it. “Whether or not you believe it now, you were doing the right thing—acting in good faith.”
“Yeah, but that’s the problem. I keep believing the best about people—I keep believing them—and I end up getting burned.” I set down my mug harder than I mean to, making the liquid inside jump. “Now here I am, out of a job. Zero career prospects. Having brown liquor breakfasts because my high school boyfriend broke my heart again for the same fucking reason he broke it the first time.”
And this time, the stakes are so much higher. I can forgive him for going after his dreams ten years ago. He was right to chase them then. But doesn’t he have enough now? The money, the health, the family?
Rose keeps rubbing. I keep crying.
We stay like that until the muffins cool. Grandma scoops two of them out of the pan and cuts them in half, slathering each half with butter. It gets all melty and delicious, and even my emotional and mental breakdown can’t keep me from scarfing a muffin.
I feel the teeny-tiniest bit better.
“Sometimes, all it takes are some carbs to do God’s work,” Grandma says, smiling. “Why don’t you lie down? Get some rest. When you’re ready, we’ll figure out what your next steps are, all right? Nothing is as bad as it seems after a good nap.”
I take a breath. Let it out. My chest is sore, and so are my eyes. “Thank you for letting me crash here. I don’t want to be alone right now.”
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.” Rose smooths my hair. “Does Rhett know you’re here? I’m sure he’s worried.”
I shake my head. “I told him to let me be.”
“Amelia, are you sure—”
“We’re done, Grandma. Fool me once, fool me twice . . . yeah.” I lift my mug and bring it to my lips, draining the tea’s lukewarm remains. “I don’t need to learn that lesson a third time.”
Her hand moves to my forehead. She frowns again. “You feel warm.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’ll make some chicken noodle soup while you’re sleeping.”
Her kindness makes my eyes burn all over again. “I really appreciate it.”
“I know you do, lovie. Would you like a toke before you head upstairs? It helps me fall asleep. I’ve got this delicious lemon love strain that’s very mellow.”