Love Me Back (Amelia and Daniel) novel Chapter 182

Amelia’s expression didn’t waver in the slightest. She put down her phone and quietly sipped her soup.

“No need. He has plenty of places to eat,” she said, her tone flat.

There was really no need for Daniel to go out of his way to update her on his whereabouts—she already knew his every move, thanks to Violet, her own personal informant.

Amelia went to bed early that night, but sleep didn’t come easy. Memories from the past few years flickered through her mind like scenes from an old film, haunting her with the feeling of a farewell montage.

At some unknown hour, her bedroom door creaked open.

The mattress dipped slightly behind her, and a faint, cool scent—like pine—drifted over. Amelia knew it was Daniel. Still, she didn’t bother opening her eyes.

If she opened them, she’d have to pretend again. She was tired of pretending.

Daniel sat on the edge of the bed for a while, silent. Then he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before slipping quietly out of the room.

The door clicked shut. Amelia opened her eyes the very next moment, rubbing her forehead hard with the back of her hand.

He’d spent the whole evening with Violet—God knows where that mouth had been.

Maybe she was just frustrated, or maybe it was pure disgust, but sleep was now impossible. She stared blankly at the soft glow of the nightlight, her mind and heart equally empty. The long night stretched on endlessly, nearly unbearable.

Time passed—how much, she couldn’t tell. At some point, footsteps echoed in the living room, followed by the front door closing.

Amelia got out of bed and walked into the hall. She pushed open the door to the guest room—sure enough, the bed was untouched and empty.

He’d left.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. 1 a.m. What could he possibly be doing out at this hour?

She didn’t need to guess—he was probably with Violet again.

…

Amelia didn’t fall asleep until dawn, finally drifting off and sleeping straight through to noon.

Violet was headed to the third floor.

That was the obstetrics department—Amelia herself had just come down from there.

Her hand tightened at her side. She didn’t have the courage to follow.

Knowing something and facing it head-on were two very different things. Amelia admitted to herself she was a coward.

She ordered a rideshare and watched the city blur past the window, forcing herself not to think about any of it.

She was leaving soon—whatever happened now was no longer her concern. Don’t think about it. Don’t make things harder for yourself.

But some things couldn’t be ignored, no matter how desperately you tried.

While waiting at a red light, her phone chimed with a new message.

It was a photo—a sonogram—with Violet’s name on it. Six weeks pregnant.