The Search for Lily Myers ✓

08 | Look What You Made Me Do

"So, um." Amelia's voice sounded more like a croak. Her throat was scratchy, her mouth dry, her eyes puffy. "I can't work today. I need your help with something."

She felt like she'd barely slept at all—because she hadn't. It had been one of the most fitful nights of sleep of her life. Her bed felt too empty, too foreign to her, blazing hot one minute and then freezing the next. The tiniest of noises had startled her so much that she pulled the blankets over her head. She felt like a small child, terrified of every sound and every dark corner, and it was only once she turned her closet light on and all of her pillows were dampened with tears that she eventually managed to succumb to her exhaustion.

"What's up?" Nat asked quietly, sounding slightly rattled by the state of Amelia's voice. She couldn't really blame her for that.

"I need your help getting my stuff out of Colton's place while he's at work."

Nat went silent, so silent that after a moment, Amelia hiccuped, "Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," she promised. "I'm here. Do you want me to come pick you up? I think my car has a little more trunk space than yours."

"That'd be helpful," Amelia said, relieved.

Once she hung up the phone, she went to the bathroom with the thought that she might try to improve her appearance by at least a marginal amount, but she quickly decided that it was mostly in vain. She tossed her hair up into a bun and changed out of her pajamas, but there was no hiding her red eyes and puffy cheeks. As soon as she tried, she'd probably just start crying again.

Natasha's car pulled up shortly thereafter; Amelia met her outside and slumped into the passenger seat. There was a travel mug of green tea in the cupholder waiting for her. She lifted it to her lips and took a long, soothing sip before attempting to speak.

"Thanks for coming," she mumbled.

"You don't have to thank me." Nat reached over and tenderly brushed a strand of Amelia's hair out of her face. "This is what best friends are for."

Amelia nodded, knowing that her lips weren't going to be able to conjure up a worthy verbal response to that. But she felt a different type of response pass between them, a silent exchange of emotion that couldn't be captured adequately in words, and with it carried the mutual knowledge that not all things must be expressed aloud to be understood.

A small knot formed in her stomach as they pulled away from her apartment and made the journey towards Colton's, and by the time his building was back in sight, she felt like she might vomit. This suddenly all seemed like a massive mistake—what if he was home, waiting for her?

But as soon as they parked, Natasha reached over to hold Amelia's hand in her own. "I'm right here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Her heart seemed to swell and shatter at the same time. I should have listened to you, she thought. Too much has already happened to me.

She was gripping Nat's hand so tightly that it was painful for both of them, but she managed to say, "Let's get this over with."

In the end, it was truly that sentiment—that once she did this, she could leave him behind once and for all and finally put an end to this horrible chapter of her life—that got her through the morning, that had her return to his doorstep and turn her key in the lock.

Her emotions seemed to somewhat detach from the rest of her being, hovering around her like a stormcloud but never fully overcoming her, as she dully pointed out to Natasha items that were hers. It was a coping mechanism, she presumed, or perhaps she truly didn't have any tears left to shed after last night. Her body felt unsteady, shaky, as she grabbed armfuls of her own clothes, forced to breathe in the scent of his stale cologne as she sifted through the closet.