My Ex-Girlfriend’s Older Sister Got Stood Up At An Art Gallery… So I Asked, “Can I Sit with You ?
Chapter 2
We walked through the gallery together.
Amelia didn’t talk much.
I didn’t push.
Outside, the evening air was cool.
She took a deep breath.
“That was embarrassing.”
“No.”
“It was.”
“Getting stood up is his embarrassing moment.”
She smiled.
“You always know what to say.”
“Not always.”
She looked at me.
“What happened to you?”
The question caught me off guard.
“What do you mean?”
“You disappeared.”
“I didn’t.”
“After Sophie.”
I looked away.
“Life happened.”
She nodded.
“Mom said you had to take care of your family.”
“My mother was sick.”
“I remember.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
I looked at her.
“Why?”
She smiled faintly.
“Because Sophie complained that you were spending too much time at the hospital.”
I felt something twist inside me.
Amelia noticed.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
She didn’t believe me.
We reached the parking lot.
She stopped beside her car.
“Do you want coffee?”
I looked at her.
“Now?”
“Why not?”
She shrugged.
“I got stood up anyway.”
I laughed.
“All right.”
We found a small café two blocks away.
We sat near the window.
For the first time, we talked without the Carter family sitting between us.
She told me she worked as an art curator.
She loved old paintings.
She traveled whenever work allowed.
She hated formal dinners.
She loved black coffee.
I told her about my mother’s recovery.
My job.
My small apartment.
The fact that I still couldn’t cook anything more complicated than pasta.
She laughed.
“You’re exactly the same.”
“That’s not necessarily good.”
“I think it is.”
We fell silent.
Then she asked,
“Do you still talk to Sophie?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“She moved on.”
“So did you?”
I looked at her.
“I thought I did.”
Her eyes held mine for a moment.
Then she looked away.
“Daniel…”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She took another sip.
A few minutes later, her phone buzzed.
This time, the message made her smile.
“Lucas?”
She shook her head.
“My mother.”
“What does she want?”
“She wants to know how the date went.”
“And?”
Amelia laughed.
“I told her it was fine.”
“Why lie?”
“Because I don’t want her pity.”
I understood.
“Then tell her you met someone.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Did I?”
She smiled.
“I suppose you did.”
I felt my heart beat faster.
That was ridiculous.
She was my ex-girlfriend’s sister.
There were rules.
At least, there were supposed to be.
We stayed another hour.
When we finally left, Amelia stood beside her car.
“I had a good time.”
“Me too.”
“Maybe we can do this again.”
“Coffee?”
“Maybe dinner.”
I smiled.
“Dinner works.”
She looked at me for several seconds.
Then said,
“Daniel?”
“Yeah?”
“Whatever happened between you and Sophie, I don’t blame you.”
I froze.
“Why are you telling me that?”
“Because I should have told you years ago.”
She opened her car door.
Then looked back.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
I watched her drive away.
My phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
Stay away from Amelia.
I stared at it.
Another message followed.
You have no idea what her family is hiding.
I looked toward the road.
Amelia’s car had already disappeared.
For the first time that night, I wondered whether being there for her had been a mistake.
Then I looked at the message again.
And wondered who had sent it.
