No. No. No.

Panic and disgust fill me as I push against the body, flinging myself off the bed.

I can't-

I didn't-

When I hear the bed move I quickly grab the pillow that fell with me, to cover myself, then push myself up against the hotel wall.

"Are you alright?" A voice asks and my stomach rolls.

"No," my eyes clamp shut, my knees bending, allowing my hands which hold my face to rest there. "Please leave. You need to leave. I- I'm married."

Oh god, I'm married. Amelia. My first and she was supposed to be my last.

No. No. No.

Despair washes over me, the same way waves wash over a sandy shore.

"I'm married." I state again, firmly, despite the ache I feel within me.

"Where is your ring?"

I don't know if it's the voice or the question that causes a violent sob to wreck through me.

"Please you have to go."

"Look at me." The sultry voice, laced with sleep, demands. My head, still hidden in my knees, shakes frantically.

"I love my wife. You have to leave."

The bed springs come to life as the woman moves, screaming out in agony for me.

"Cameron." The voice says, now extremely close, and my head jolts upward.

"Amelia."

-

In a drunken haze, I make my way to the door, pulling it open without looking through the glass. My wife stands there, sadness clearly read on her face. I whisper her name as if I'm breathing for the first time and she takes a step forward.

"Cameron, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

For not loving you. For wanting Ryan. For wanting to walk away.

"For signing those papers."

Her statement isn't anything like what I was expecting and it causing my ears to ring so loud I grip my head.

"What?" When I look up, she's too close to me. Her scent overwhelming me.

"Cameron, I missed you." She whispers, but my mind, swimming in alcohol, can't actually grasp what she's saying. It's only when her lips meet mine, does it start to react.

Breathless, she pulls away while gripping my left hand that rests on her neck.

"Where's your ring?"

My right hand comes up, my thumb stroking the frown lines that paint her forehead. When they leave, I pull away, walking to the hotel dresser where my ring sits, grabbing it before turning back to her. She's entered the room, closed the door, and is in the process of kicking her sandals to the side.

"You've stopped wearing it already." She mutters, taking it it from my outstretched hand.

"Drunk me is still getting used to not wearing it, sober me can't take it off. Why are you here, Amelia?" I find myself asking, frustration taking over my tone. "Why are you here, kissing me, when.." You don't want me. You don't love me.

"I have a few things to say." She straightens her back and I allow myself to look my fill. Jeans that cling to the curves I have memorized. A tight sweater that accentuates the bump that guards our baby, our sweet Nora.

My chest clenches painfully at the thought of what I may miss. Her first word, her first step, her first time sleeping through the night, and all the small moments between.

"Cameron." Amelia's light touch on my forehead snaps be back to reality. "How drunk are you?"

"Not drunk enough." My honest response is instant. On instinct, my head moves to follow her retreating hand. "You said we needed to talk?"

"Why didn't you tell me you heard my phone call that night?" She asks and I can feel her eyes studying my face. "Why didn't you ask me about it?"

Damn Meghan.

"I didn't want to actually have you tell me that you wanted him." I admit, unable to meet her eyes. "Hearing you say you needed him was enough."

"Cameron," She roughly grips my face, the cold metal of her rings sending a shiver through me. "I was interrupted. I wasn't saying I need HIM. I was trying to tell him I needed him to do something for me."

"Do what?" My voice is slightly above a whisper.

Did I simply misunderstand everything?

'She still signed the papers without a second thought.' my subconscious reminds me.

"I wanted your letter. He still has it and I wanted it."

'Ryan I need you... to give me the letter.' It's plausible but she still signed those damn papers.

"As for the papers," She reads my thoughts while her hands, still on my face, loosen their grip. "What you said was hurtful, Cameron." She whispers, and for the first time in a long time, I see pain in her crystal orbs. Pain I caused.

'I can't do this.'

'You're not my wife.'

'My Lia is gone.'

"After what we did the night before," He face flushes a deep red. "I thought we were moving forward and then you said those things." Her voice trembles and this time I'm the one to grip her face.

"I didn't mean it." I pull her to me, holding her as close as I can get her. "I just didn't want you to feel guilty, I wanted you to know you can leave. I-I don't want you to be miserable."

"I'm miserable without you." She pulls back, determination now filling her features. "That night I was trying to tell you something, or show you."

When I stare at her, she picks up my unasked question and answers it.

"I love you."

Her words, not what I was expecting, are like air to a drowning man.

"Say it again." I beg, my eyes closed as I savor the words she speaks for a second time.

"I love you, Cameron."

It's like the first time she said them all over again, this time I'm stunned into silence.

"I love you. I need you. I want to be your wife."

Her hand on my belt buckle is like a jolt of electricity that causes me to grip her face.

I need to see her eyes.

"Amelia."

"Shh." She silences me while gently pushing me to sit at the edge of the large hotel bed.

Her hands move to work on the buttons of my wrinkled dress shirt. When she finally gets them undone she looks up at me, her eyes shining, as she pushes the shirt off my shoulders.

"Let me make love to my husband."