Chapter 6: Amelia's Guilt

As I went through the motions at work, I tried to ignore the developing pit of regret eating at me; the morning passed in a blur of forced smiles and scripted greetings. Every time I closed my eyes, I could still see Andrew's face from this morning—his austere, contemptuous look as he turned away. I felt like I was teetering on the brink as shame dragged me down.

Noon had frayed my nerves. I couldn't get rid of the sensation no matter how many towels I folded or rooms I cleaned. Every minute felt as though it would last an eternity. The weight of his presence in my thoughts and the scent of his cologne helped me to be taken back to that evening.

I closed my eyes and inhaled trembling. What was on my mind?

I turned to find Sarah frowning as she leaned against the door, and heard a voice behind me say, "Hey." "Today you are not the person you once were. Are you inclined to chat?

Hesitating a moment, I forced a smile. "I just feel... tired. Trembling. Did not get enough rest.

She crossed her arms and glanced knowingly at me. Oh, I understand now. And you're keeping to that narrative?

I answered, a little too quickly, "Yes," then turned back to focus on the towel stack. I knew Sarah would object to this. She had been my best friend since I started working at the hotel; she was also the one who could see right through me. How then was I going to explain?

"Amelia, speed forward. She said, "Spill," her voice now softer. "You do not have to live with it alone, no matter what it is."

My throat narrowed. I wanted to tell her I had made a mistake, one that was now weighing down my shoulders and getting heavier by the hour. But just thinking about saying it aloud made my tummy turn. The guilt was special to me and a secret I found difficult to expose. She would see it differently. What is your opinion?

"Sarah, it's nothing," I said, hardly audible. "Just... a difficult evening."

She sighed, then briefly turned to face me and nodded. "All right." Still, should you change your mind, you know where to find me.

I buried my face in my hands and collapsed onto the freshly made bed when she left. *What spurred me to do it?* The thought stayed with me. For a man who didn't even see me, I now feel as though last night I made hasty decisions ignoring all sensible factors. I felt hollow and empty a world apart from the woman I thought I was.

The worst thing was knowing I had done it freely. Andrew had not fooled me into doing anything or charmed me. Though he had been direct and even aloof, I had let myself be pulled in as though he were a fairy tale prince. It had been a one-night escape—a wild plunge into something I knew was not real. And now reality was striking more powerfully than I could manage in the brilliant daylight.

————

That evening, I headed home dragging my feet across the pavement. Couples were walking down the streets, evening traffic was heavy, and laughter and conversation abounded. Jealousy crept in as I watched them, contentedly blind to the storm inside me. How could people get about so effortlessly? Did their own choices ever weigh them down?

When I did make it to my flat, I unlocked the door and went inside to let peace surround me. The silence let me go back to relive every moment and explore the depths of regret I had created for myself, so it was a gift as well as a drawback.

My ideas drifted and I collapsed onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. I started to feel coldly afraid. I didn't know myself. The Amelia who had gone to Andrew's room the evening before had acted impulsively and frantically for an object she could name. But the Amelia I knew was grounded, responsible, and wary; she worked hard, saved every dollar, and stayed straight and narrow. I knew nothing about juggling these two facets of me.

The soft buzz of my phone pulled me from my dream and broke stillness. I glanced at the exhibit. Ryan, my partner, was present. A wave of guilt swept over me and I almost stopped breathing. I hadn't spoken to him since the previous evening, and I hadn't even given any thought to him during last night's mayhem. How could I now approach him?

*Reply, Amelia. That sums up your debt to him.

I picked up the phone with shaky hands and put it to my ear. "Hi, Ryan."

His voice was like a salve to the rawness within me—familiar and friendly. He said, "Hey." "You not got in touch me all day. Is everything under control?

Saying, "Yes, I am just... I have been really busy," I battled to keep my cool.

There was a stop, and I could almost hear him scowling on the other side of the queue. Are you certain? You sound different from yourself.

I said, "I'm fine," and lied. "Just worn down."

Another stop later, he spoke once more but more gently. "All right; so tell me whether you require anything. You are absent.

Hearing his words made me tingle with guilt, and I had to wipe away my tears. I wanted to tell him I cared and that I had made an unavoidable mistake. Nonetheless, how could I? I never managed to tell him. The only one carrying the guilt in quiet would be me.

Taste sour on my tongue, I said, "I miss you too."

After we hung up, I stayed on the couch, shame and guilt whirling through my head. The person I had grown to be eluded me and I couldn't make sense of her. I knew I would have to figure out how to forget about it, put this behind me, and carry on with my life.

I couldn't, however, get rid of the scar last night. One whose fade would be challenging.