love came calling, twice // olly murs

4.

She stilled her movements and lifted one of them from the ground, turning it over slowly. Smiling back at her was a blonde woman; her grin wide and her brown eyes bright. Amelia frowned. She had never seen this woman in her life; what was Tom doing with a photo of her? She flicked over another photo only to find the same woman, lying on the beach in a hot pink bikini, puckering her lips in a goofy smoochie to whomever was taking the shot. Amelia's frown deepened.

Something wasn't right. Her immediate thoughts went to this conclusion, but she found herself making up excuses as she continued to flip over photograph after photograph. Each and everyone had the blonde woman perched in some corner of it. Olly was a photographer; maybe these were his photos. But why would they be in Tom's room? Maybe they were Jeff's or Jason's; they could have significant others, too. But as she flipped over one more she felt her heart stop.

The picture was of the woman, her arm extended out, obviously holding the camera, and next to her, his lips pressed to her cheek...was Tom.

Heart pounding, she overturned every single photograph on the floor, dumping out the contents of the box. Dozens upon dozens of photos poured out, each one depicting the woman and quite a few of them showing Tom. Tom with his arms around her, Tom smooching her, Tom laughing with her. There were some single shots too; of him lounging in an unknown apartment, of him sitting on the beach.

Shaking, her eyes filling with tears, she discovered a stack of paper on top of the sea of images. A red elastic band was stretched around it and she snapped it off, ripping open the papers to read what words were written on the page.

In her hands she held e-mails that had been printed off, postcards and letters. They were written in loopy penmanship and smelled of floral perfume.

Amelia's head was reeling. What was this shit? Why were there all these photos of Tom with this woman? Why were there all these photographs? Breathing quickly, she brought a hand to her mouth and pressed her fingertips against her jaw, willing away the tears.

He had kept all of these here, a place where she never ventured because of Olly. He knew there was so little chance of her seeing them. They had been in the second shoebox, one on top with actual shoes in it. It would seem so unsuspecting to someone who was just rummaging through.

Tom hadn't been faithful to her.

All signs where pointing to this conclusion, all of them. There was a chance, however, that she was a woman from his past, but looking at the photographs and his face, the one she knew by heart, she knew that was an impossibility. They were recent, maybe even very recent.

How could he do this to her? How could he keep it a secret? Suddenly feeling angry, she stumbled to her feet and snatched one of the photographs off of the floor and staggered over to the door. She made her way down to the hallway, over to the kitchen where loud music was playing and laughter could be heard from the four males.

"You're something beautiful, a contradiction," Adam was singing obnoxiously as his friends laughed while they prepared. They seemed like they were high spirits, laughing and sipping their Heinekens. Adam's eyes brightened upon seeing Amelia, pleased that she had come out of her room. "You will be the death of meeee."

When Amelia didn't crack a smile at his antics, at his off-key pitch, Adam stopped moving. He frowned slightly. "You okay, Mils?" he asked slowly.

The mood in the kitchen was suddenly somber. Jeff, who was playing air guitar suddenly stopped, his eyes fixed on the sole female in the house. Jason stopped chopping carrots and Olly, who had been laughing at something as he leaned against the counter frowned before bringing his beer to his mouth, taking a long sip.

Slowly, Amelia raised her hand, the picture of the blonde woman grasped within her fingers. She showed it to the boys, waiting for some reaction.

They stared back at her.

"Are we supposed to know who that is, Mils?" Jeff asked, hands nervously smoothing down his bright graphic tee. "Is that a friend of yours? Cause she's hot."

Amelia's mouth was dry while she surveyed the men. "Who is she?"

Adam blinked. "I don't know. Who?"

"Why don't you tell me?" she all but hissed and the men flinched. Jason set his knife against the cutting board and raised his hands defensively.

"Mils, we don't know," he said, a nervous smile on his face. "Stop playing games." He paused when he said that her hands were trembling. "Are you okay?"

"I found these in Tom's room," she said, her voice a harsh whisper. "There are dozens upon dozens of them. In some, he's with her. There's letters too. Who is she and what did she mean to Tom?"

Jason dropped his hands at the same time Adam's beer slipped from his grasp, shattering on the floor.

"I...I don't know," Jeff stuttered. "I, um, do any of you guys...ah."

Jason shrugged helplessly. "I've never seen her in my life. Mil, I don't think...Tom wouldn't...are you sure you found them in his room?"

"Of course I did!" Amelia snapped. "You think I'm making this up? Who is she? Did Tom...was he...?"

Adam seemed frozen to the spot, not even aware that he had dropped his drink. "Are you implying what I think you are, Mils?" he asked, but before Amelia could answer, she was cut off by a low voice that had not yet spoken.

"She is and she's correct." Four pairs of eyes fell on Olly, who was turning his beer bottle in his hands which were now shaking slightly. Setting his bottle on the counter he took a deep breath before running his fingers through his hair.

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