59__What if

James and Amelia stood side-by-side in his bedroom, hands on their hips as they studied his new bed.

"Well, bud?" she asked. "What do you think?"

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully. "It definitely has everything I'm looking for in a bed."

She stifled a smile. "Oh, yeah? And what's that?"

He pointed. "It has four legs, pillows, my toys, my special blankie. I like that it’s smaller too."

She raised a brow. "That’s it?"

He slowly turned to her with a tight smile of suppressed glee. "No. The best part... It's a car!!"

With a happy shout, he leaped into the car bed, laughing happily as he rolled about.

Amelia clapped, laughing as she watched him. He was so adorable. He'd tried to seem grown up about it for as long as he could, but quickly gave in to the glee of having his first car bed.

"You like it?"

He grinned up at her. "I love it! Thank you!"

"Make sure to say thanks to your dad later."

He blinked up at her. "Where is daddy?"

Her smile turned into a grimace. "Ah... He's at the office." He'd escaped to the office because she wouldn't stop pouting in his direction.

He'd told her to forget the marriage idea and had refused to hear anything further. Apparently, she was only considering it because she pitied him.

Jamie's eyes were wide. "Did you and Daddy argue with each other? Is that... is that why you were crying?"

She sobered, quickly shaking her head. "Oh, no, James, of course not."

He seemed unsatisfied, sitting up in his bed. "Well, why were you crying? Is it… because of me?"

"No way!" She sat beside him. "Why would it be because of you? It isn't, I was just a little sad for a moment. But I'm all better now, daddy made me feel better."

James pressed his lips together, looking up at her. He thought she'd been sad that his real mummy came. He knew that Amelia wasn't his mum, but he was afraid to tell her that. When he saw Lily, he’d realized that something was wrong and that he’d made a weird mistake when he’d thought Amelia was his mummy. He didn’t understand why he’d thought that, in the first place.

He knew that Amelia was here because he called her mummy and he was worried that she'd have to leave if he stopped calling her that.

Keeping his thoughts to himself, he smiled at her and picked up one of his favorite toys, offering it to her.

She smiled, taking the toy. "Thanks, bud. How about we open that big box that came with the bed?" Leaning in, she wiggled her brows. "We can build a castle with it."

"Yes!!"

He zoomed past her and she laughed, quickly following.

*******

“Aw, Marc, come on,” whined Amelia, following him around his office.

“That’s fine,” he was saying on the phone. “It’s not a problem, but I need the other two confirmed before Monday.”

She sighed. “Marc.”

“I don’t need a P.A, Roger, they’re nothing but incompetent and frustrating. You handle this matter… Yes, Roger, I know that you’re the senior manager, that’s why I’m telling you to handle it. If you don’t want to, you’re welcome to hand in your resignation letter. Have a good day.” He hung up.

“Marc—”

“Amelia, shouldn’t you check on James?”

“James is reading a book and doesn’t want to be disturbed, I’ll be checking on him in about ten minutes.”

“What about dinner? Have you—”

“I’ve eaten, thanks.” She smiled. “About what we were discussing before you went out—”

“Amelia.” He closed his eyes, frustration etched into his face. “You’re acting based on pity. I may have my wits dimmed but I’m not going to let you get into something just because you pity me.”

Her expression fell. “Don’t say that, I said sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that when I said it, I was being overly harsh because… because I…”

He stared at her. “Because you what?”

She bit her lip. Because she’d been scared to allow anything further to happen, startled by how attached to him she was becoming. She could catch feelings for Marc. Strong feelings. And they were terrifying when she considered the reality of who they were to each other. How bold it had been of her to assume she could ‘have fun for four months’.

She caught feelings for characters in books, what made her think she could’ve survived Marc Aryan?

“Because I was scared.”

He frowned. “Of me?”

She pursed her lips. “No, of myself. So, just let me help you already.”

He was frowning at her like she was making little sense. "You were afraid of yourself?"

She gave him a shaky smile.

He was done with her. Turning away, Marc walked over to his ladder and climbed a few steps to reach for a book on the highest shelf.

"That happens with me sometimes," she explained hurriedly, climbing on the other side of the ladder. "I get scared and then self-sabotage! I did that the first time I had a job interview. Whenever I get nervous, it happens!"

She chattered on and he quietly pulled his glasses out of the neck of his shirt where they hung, putting them on as he opened the book.

"It's called panicking as a result of overthinking," she said sweetly. "I do it a lot, especially where you're concerned."

He calmly flipped a page.

"It's completely my fault! I was chicken and it made me say stuff that I didn't mean! It's..." Searching her brain for anything she could say to convince him, she tried to climb higher on the ladder. "It's—"

Her foot slipped.

Her startled shriek snapped him into action and he snatched her back up before she could fall.

Shocked, she gripped him tightly, her eyes wide. "Oh, my God."

He was still calm. "Do you intend to break your neck today?"

She pouted. "No. But back to the matter at hand, what do you say?”

His calm, green eyes stared at her before he sighed and lowered his gaze, his arm still around her waist. "How do I know whether or not you're doing this out of pity? I didn't let you see that stuff so you'd pity me, Amelia. I let you see it because I thought it was what you were after and I wanted to see just what you planned to do with it. You kept telling me to drink the bloody tea, so I did it because I wanted to see what you were so desperate to find. I can’t say I’m not confused by your reaction. You cry your eyes out and then jump at the chance to help me. You puzzle me."

"I keep *telling* you, I wasn't after your secrets. In fact, don't worry about what I was after, the only thing I'm after now is you." She shook her head. "I mean, *helping* you. Being with you and... helping you..."

His face was distractingly handsome, she swallowed hard, turning away. "It isn't out of pity. As a doctor, I'm always in favour of… health! You want to get healthier and I'm totally for that, I'm in full support."

"Then why did you cry so much? If you don't pity me."

She bit her bottom lip, looking sheepish. Because she had never read anything more haunting in her life and she wanted nothing more than to hug him and take away every single ounce of pain he'd ever felt. "Don’t worry about it, I cry a lot."

His eyes glimmered with something akin to mirth. "That's true. You do take any chance to weep." Just like he’d done earlier today. He'd cried.

"Yes, so stop thinking about me crying and go back to trying to use me to develop your emotions again."

He studied her for a moment. Sighing, he snapped the book shut and nodded to the floor. "Get down. Carefully."

She hurried down haphazardly and, narrowly avoiding another fall, stood upright, smiling up at him.

He stayed on the ladder, looking down at her with greater intensity in his gaze than he realized. He couldn’t help it.

She was a chaotic little person and so full of emotion that it sometimes exploded and she failed to contain it. She was beautifully human, Marc had never seen anyone like her.

He reached up and removed his glasses, holding them against the ladder. “Amelia, I don’t think you realize how far this could go.”

She shook her head, not a thought behind those gold eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He sighed and climbed down the ladder. Placing the book and his glasses on his table, he turned to face her. “What I mean is… what if I’m right?”

“About me being able to help you…? Yeah, def. I think you’re right.”

“That means I’m going to learn and experience more intricate feelings the longer you stay with me. What if I fall in love with you?”

She froze.

He waited for her answer. When she just stared at him, he nodded. “So, you see. You truly might help me, but what if you awaken parts of me that I’ve never known how to control?

Already, you make me feel things I never even studied the description of. I cannot identify the things you make me feel, what if they just get deeper? I’m unusual, Amelia. I don’t know how to be crafty and sly with my emotions. I’ll be completely defenceless to any feelings you stir up within me.

What if I really fall in love with you, Amelia? What happens then?”