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( XXXII. THE OTHER WOMAN )
FOR ONCE IN HER LIFE, Amelie was grateful for the sun. It shone through the silk curtains draping over the many windows of her home. She was also grateful for windows, especially those at the top of a building or a tower, where she could view the town from above. She remembered the time her and Isaac snuck out at night and visited the abandoned lighthouse in their village. It was dark and all they could hear was the sound of waves crashing against each other violently and the wind swirling around them in heaps. It was one of the most serene moments she had with Isaac as well.
It was the first time he openly talked about losing Allison.
The Anchor knew how touchy of a subject it was for the Beta, who watched the girl he loved die in the arms of the boy she loved first. So, she never dared to bring it up— not when he still didn't want to.
"Allison once told me we should go to France together," He had whispered quietly as he leaned his chin on the metal railing. Their legs swung back and forth in the air when they sat on the edge. The wind made Amelie's hair fly into a crazed mess above her head so she tied into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. At the mention of their dead friend, Amelie turned her head to face Isaac, who stared at the open water with narrowed eyes. "Never thought I'd be here without her."
The words seemed to stop in her throat. She didn't really know what to say in a situation like this so she just kept looking at him, urging him to keep talking.
"Do you ever see her?" His voice shook a bit but she couldn't tell if it was from the wracking wind or just the grief in his heart.
"No," She shook her head, putting a strand of fallen hair behind her ear. "I wish I could, but she's found peace."
"She has?"
Amelie nodded softly at the boy. "She has," She affirmed, "And she's with her mother, I hope."
"I hope so too."
Memories like these would constantly remind her why she loved France so much. It erased this barrier between her and Isaac that they never thought was there, the barrier of their friendship. Somehow, she always thought that one day they would end up together— romantically, but now, she wouldn't ever imagine that. Because they were much closer than a couple were.
As she stirred the milk into her coffee, the sound of music flowed soundly through the house. Karly was at school and Sydney was at the hospital— per usual. It was mornings like this that she wished she had someone to share them with.
Someone like Stiles.
She remembered the time ( of many ) he slept over and she woke up to his arm draped of her back, and his eyes fluttered close. He looked so peaceful, his mind finally quiet. His breath fanned her face and she couldn't stop herself from counting the few freckles that were scattered on to his pale face, and memorize the way his eyelashes curled upwards naturally— which she was incredibly jealous of. And, his hair— oh, his hair, that begged her fingertips to run through it.
