Speechless.

Truth

“No,”

“Mia you have got to find out.”

“No,”

“This isn’t one of those situations that you can just say ‘no’ to. I’m not asking you if you want extra pepperoni on your pizza here, Mia.” John argued. “This is your daughter we’re talking about.”

“No,” Amelia turned on her heels, causing John who had been following close behind to crash into her. “No,” She seethed angrily. “Mickey is not my daughter. I love the kid, but she is not mine.”

Amelia’s eyes were blazing in that moment, her jaw locked, her muscles tight. It was the stance of someone you don’t want to fight with and it was one that Amelia had taken often when she’d taken to the streets.

“She is not my daughter, Jonathan O’ Callaghan!” She yelled furiously. “and if you say or imply that she is one more time I swear I will never speak to you again.”

John opened and closed is mouth several times thoroughly upset with Amelia’s attempt at an ultimatum. Settling into pursed lips, John gazed at Amelia unhappily—still wanting to have the conversation she refused to acknowledge.

“B-but you said you thought Mickey was yours.”

“I was upset John,” She snapped seething. “I wasn’t thinking straight, it has been a long day.”

“Really?” John began to get equally as heated as Amelia. He grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks as he turned in front of her, blocking her path. One way or another John had come to the conclusion that they would have this conversation; the conversation that mattered most above everything else in this world. “Because that seems like the first time you have been thinking straight.”

“I was thinking about my daughter!” She yelled stepping closer to John until they were only inches apart. “The one I gave birth too. I was thinking how I lost her and I’ll be damned if I loose Mickey too!”

John pursed his lips in annoyance as he shook his head angrily. On the one hand he wished to comfort Amelia, to wrap his arms around her and promise that nothing bad would ever happen to her again. On the other hand John was not willing to let go of the idea that Mickey was Amelia’s daughter. The mere thought seemed as though a light bulb had gone on and it became as true as the sky is blue.

Of course, the grass is green.

Of course, Amelia is Matt’s younger sister.

Of course, Amelia had run away as a teenager.

And,

Obviously, McKenna Belle was Amelia’s daughter.

But even John knew that he could only push Amelia so far before she broke…or snapped—Either way it wouldn’t be good.

“Just drop it.” Amelia said through gritted teeth, “Please.”

John pursed his lips, his stance still stiff with anger before he sighed and nodded reluctantly, “Okay,” He mumbled, stepping out of her path and returning to her side. The two walked down the white halls, which were heavy with the scent of disinfectant; the idea of Mickey’s being Amelia’s daughter loomed over both their heads like a storm cloud. “Will you come somewhere with me?” He wondered quietly after a moment.

Amelia smiled softly, tempted by the idea. John had a way of tempting her with many things.

Normalcy, love, trust, sex, friendship, relationship, warmth, these were all things John tempted her with without even opening his mouth. When John spoke to her, questioned her, comforted her, confided in her, he became an unyielding force of good and security that she had craved for so long. But Amelia was all to aware of one painful fact about John that she feared worst of all. It was the fact that John held a power over her that she could not fight, that she did not want to fight.

It was the fact that Amelia could not say no to John O’Callaghan.

And so she said the one thing she could say, the only thing she could say.

“Sure.”