The Search for Lily Myers ✓

16 | Friction

Amelia had the unfortunate tendency to be chronically uncertain about her life decisions, but one thing she knew for sure was that she didn't want to be having any conversations about Colton with her parents at this wedding. That wasn't going to happen unless she said something to them before then, which meant that she now had a grand total of five days to figure out what to tell them and then actually go through with it.

It didn't feel like nearly enough time. It hypothetically should have been ample, but she'd been concentrating all of her energy on keeping herself sane rather than deliberating what exactly she did and didn't want to tell them, and she was going to have to be very careful with her words. She respected that it was natural for them to want an explanation and wanted to make sure that it came across in whatever she said to them, yet she really didn't think that they needed to know all of the inner workings of her relationships, romantic or otherwise.

She reckoned that her dad would give up on pestering her sooner than her mom would, so she decided to test her spiel on him first. His job sometimes had him working odd evening hours, but she managed to find a sliver of time on Tuesday night that wasn't too late for either of them. She had her fingers crossed that push come to shove, he'd rather go to bed at a reasonable hour than stay up late bickering with his daughter, but she made sure she was nice and cozy on her couch before she Facetimed him just in case it ended up being longer conversation than she wanted it to be.

"Hey, Dad," she said once his face popped up on her screen, the image predictably blurry.

"Hey, sweetheart. You feeling okay?"

There might have been a knot in her stomach, but she nodded anyway. "Yeah...are you, um, are you excited for the wedding on Saturday?"

"Weddings have never really been my thing, but yeah, I think it'll be good," he shrugged. "Enough about me, how are you? I feel like I haven't really heard from you since..."

"I know," she said quietly. "But I'd really appreciate it if you and Mom don't bring that up this weekend."

"Do you plan on telling your mother that?"

Amelia resisted a juvenile urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, Dad. You know I know better than to think you two should be lecturing each other."

He nodded, apparently satisfied with this answer, and didn't seem to think very much before asking, "What happened there? Weren't you about to move into his place for good?"

She grimaced; he caught himself and added, "Sorry. Your old man isn't very good at these sorts of things."

At least he apologized. Her father had about as much of a knack for socializing as she did—which was to say hardly any at all—so she'd anticipated that this would most likely feel painfully awkward.

"A lot happened," she told him. "I...I wasn't as happy with him as I made it out to be in front of other people. I messed up a lot and that part of it's on me, so I'm sorry if I misled you into thinking I was going to be with him forever or something..."

Amelia had misled herself into believing that, but she wasn't ready to confess that to her parents. She wanted to sound like she had agency, like she hadn't run out as a very last resort after months of being screamed at and hiding bruises. She wasn't convinced that she'd ever be ready to look her mom and dad in the eyes and confess to them that their little girl had let a man do that to her.

She took in a slow breath, preparing to regurgitate the rest of the thoughts that she'd jotted down in her notes app in advance.

"But it's over, and I promise you that there's zero chance of us ever getting back together, so...yeah. I'd like us not to talk about it anymore for now, okay? Maybe one day I'll be ready, but I'm still processing it all right now."