The Only Way Forward Is Through

There was glitter on her hand.

 Amelia stared at it, transfixed, flexing the muscles of her thumb, watching it move back and forth. It was interesting to see, anyways. The light flickered across the glitter with her movements. It was nice that her hands still did what she told them to.

With this thought in mind, Amelia stilled the light movements of her hand. She watched apathetically as the light scattered as her hands shook regardless.

“Amelia?”

Amelia finally tore her gaze away, glancing up from her place on the floor. She didn’t respond.

“Are you—are you alright?” Lucas twisted his hands together, clearly uncomfortable. Her younger cousin never was one for feelings, or comfort unless somebody was dying. She would feel bad for him, but she only had the emotional capacity to pity one person at a time, and, currently, that person was herself.

“No.” Was Amelia’s short reply. Hopefully, Lucas would go away now.

Lucas did not take the hint. Instead, he slipped off his suit jacket, and plopped down next to her on the floor, settling his weight against the kitchen cabinets.

Amelia stared him down. Lucas twitched a bit, but for his part, did not look away.

After several beats of increasingly uncomfortable silence, (well, perhaps only uncomfortable on Lucas’s part, Amelia decidedly did not give a damn), Amelia finally sighed deeply, giving in.

“You’re going to ruin your suit.” She pointed out curtly, gesturing sharply at the floor, walls, and counters, all of which were covered in various colorful substances.

“I have more.” Lucas shrugged in the obnoxious way only a teenage boy could achieve.

“You’re like 10, how many nice clothes could you possibly own?”

Lucas rolled his eyes, also in an obnoxious teenage manner. “I’m sixteen, you were literally at my birthday party like two months ago.”

“Don’t recall. Perhaps you were dreaming.”

“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious.”

They fell into silence again here, but one a bit more companionable than the first. Amelia appreciates the company if nothing else.

 She wasn’t sure what Lucas was even doing here, right now. His parents had left hours ago, along with most of the guests. She was fairly confident she had seen Lucas flee the house moments ahead of his parents. He never really had been good at dealing with conflict. Amelia frowned.

“How did you even get here?” She pondered, casting a suspicious glance at Lucas. 

“God,” Lucas replied immediately. Amelia shifted her poofy dress around, drawing herself up to sit on her knees so she could peer out a window. A distinctive mountain bike was parked in her driveway, out in the dark. She settled back down on the ground, white dress spreading out around her like a wilted flower, curiosity satisfied.

Amelia really should start cleaning up. Her newly bought apartment looked like a warzone, with the kitchen and living room being the worst of it. She eyed the piece of cake splattered on the wall directly across from them, above the kitchen sink. As if on cue, a sizable chunk fell off, and plopped on the porcelain of the sink. Lucas followed her stare to the after more mentioned cake.

“Your brother’s a dick.” Lucas offered, lighthearted, like a peace offering for his previous snark. 

Amelia snorted, feeling both terribly amused and exhausted all at once. She suddenly felt very old. 

“Yeah. Yeah, he is.” What kind of grown man threw a cake anyway? That’s the kind of tantrum behavior that’s hardly tolerated from toddlers, let alone 30-year-old jobless leeches. 

Its demise really was a pity, it had been such a beautiful cake. She and Delilah had spent ages taste-testing various flavors, finally settling on a classic cherry vanilla wedding cake. Despite their agreed-upon limited budget, Delilah had wanted their reception to be extravagant, if small, and Amelia was infatuated (foolish, stupid, gullible enough to believe that she could be loved) enough to indulge whatever request she had. Besides, hosting the venue at the new house cut down on costs enough to afford it. 

Perhaps Amelia should have chosen an outdoor venue. If there were no closed doors around, then maybe Delilah would have been deterred from sleeping with Amelia’s brother on their wedding night. But, whatever. It didn’t really matter now. 

Anyways, from what Amelia understood from the two-hour-long screaming match, this affair had been going on for quite a while longer than just this night. Amelia wondered if she would’ve been happier never finding out at all. But there was a certain indignity in being cheated on, and now that Amelia knew, there was no taking it back. She loved Delilah, knew that some lonely part of her would likely love Delilah for the rest of her life, but Amelia would not stay. Not after this. 

Her vision was blurred, and Amelia realized in a terrible moment that she was crying, and she hasn’t cried in years, not even after her beloved dog’s euthanasia or her failed interviews or other things worth crying over.

A gentle hand came down on her disheveled hair, patting awkwardly like she was a startled cat that needed to be soothed. Amelia glanced up through ruined mascara to see Lucas looking incredibly uncomfortable, with both the contact and the emotional vulnerability of the moment. But he was trying, despite how out of his comfort zone Lucas obviously was, and didn’t it say something that he was here, right now in quiet company with Amelia in this little empty house, cake on the walls and tipped over furniture, while her own parents and friends had left her to misery.

“Do you--are you going to…at least you get to keep the gifts?” Lucas tried, gesturing broadly to a pile of wrapped gifts in the corner, the tender awkwardness of a boy who’s not used to comforting but is giving it his best shot, however terrible that shot is.

And it really was terrible. Amelia throws her head back and laughs, a loud and ungentle sound, that very quickly morphs into a choked-off sob, her shoulders shaking with the force of it. Mascara streamed down her cheeks, and Amelia wasn’t even sure if she was laughing or crying right now. 

Lucas made a distressed little sound, and when Amelia saw his distraught expression through the blur of her tears, she laughed even harder, every emotion she’s felt throughout the day coming out in a hurricane of emotion.

“Yeah.” Amelia muses, finally composing herself enough to respond, before Lucas bursts into nervous tears as well. Something tight and curled up in Amelia’s chest, something that’s been clenching too hard since she discovered her brother and Delilah, loosens, just a little. “Yeah. I get to keep the gifts.”