“I understand what you’re saying, Ross, but Hagen is one of the best deputies in the business! He’s essential for this case, with his ability to discern between a threat and an innocent bystander. Has he not proven himself to you yet?”

“Sir, I’m very capable of doing the same,” I say, deeply insulted by Lance’s words.

“So, tell it to me plainly; no beating around the bush. What are you asking me to do?”

“I’m asking you to remove Hagen from this case. What kind of person he is when he’s around his superiors is very different from when he’s around the other deputies. I’m concerned for Amelia… about Hagen’s influence on her especially, for now. Before she was contemplating finding her father, but now she talks about him a lot more. And the two are constantly sneaking off–”

“Are you sure your jealousy isn’t clouding your judgment?”

“Sir, there’s no envy here.” However, as I speak these words, I wonder how true they really are. “I’m just worried about her.”

“Ross?” I hear Amelia say. That’s the first thing she’s said to me in quite a while. After what happened in the supermarket last week, she hardly ever speaks to me unless it’s absolutely necessary, and sharing a room with her for even five minutes is next to unbearable… and I’m the one to blame.

“I have to go,” I say to Lance. “I’ll talk to you soon.” After hanging up and slipping the phone into my pocket, I turn toward the door of the room in which Hagen and I usually sleep. There, I find Amelia standing in the entryway. Though her clothes are casual, I can’t help thinking of how beautiful she is in her simple red long sleeve shirt and black leggings. From the silver necklace around her neck dangles a heart shaped locket, which looks beautiful against the red of her plain, Montmorency cherry red shirt.

Amelia skips a greeting and gets straight to the point. “Hagen is taking us to a restaurant, but it’s a surprise. He said to dress casually; don’t wear anything too fancy, but also nothing too bummy. His words, not mine.”

“Alright. When should I be ready?”

“Five minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll be ready then. But first, Amelia…” As I move toward her, she takes a small step back and crosses her arms. “I, um, have something for you…”

“Oh, really?” she replies. The look in her eyes tells me that her mind is elsewhere, and that she doesn’t want to be here.

“Yeah, it’s an ‘apology gift’, actually. It’s to say sorry, and to hopefully put an end to the strain between us.”

Amelia lets out a single dry laugh. “You mean the strain that you created?”

I grimace, completely agreeing with her. “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I hope you can accept my sincere apology.”

“I’m just confused, Ross,” she says. I can see the hurt that I caused on her face… the hurt from my rejection of her not long ago. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Amelia, it’s not you…” I say, but it is her… It’s her fault that I’m so attracted to her that I can hardly manage to make it through each day, resisting the strong urge to tell her how I truly feel… But not only to simply tell her, but to show her also. Even as I think of how I wish to kiss her again, to feel her smooth lips against mine, and to taste the sweetness of her strawberry lip gloss, I catch myself staring longingly at her mouth. “It’s just that my girlfriend changed her mind… She said the wait to see me again would be worth it… and so we got back together.”

“Oh…” Amelia’s gaze falls to the floor, and her voice becomes quiet… almost inaudible. “I see. Congratulations.”

I sigh. “Yeah, so, anyway… I got you something. It’s not much longer until we arrive in Malibu, and I know we’ll soon have to part ways, so I also didn’t want to leave on a bad note.” I smile apologetically, but Amelia doesn’t seem to care to listen to me. I reach into my other pocket and pull out a black plush fabric jewelry case, all the while studying her face. I watch as her expression changes from completely uninterested to very intrigued. Extending the little box toward her, I say, “Amelia, this is my apology gift to you.”

“Really?” she asks, hesitantly taking it from my hands. She looks up at me for a second, as if to ask if I’m really gifting her with something after our week long dry spell. “For me?”

“Yeah. Open it.”

Amelia searches around the box, turning it every way to find the closure. “I didn’t think to get you anything… Sorry.”

“This is about you, not me. Open it,” I say, urging her along. I can hardly wait to see her face when she discovers what’s inside. I was able to get some assistance with this gift, and couldn’t believe how perfect the timing was. It wasn’t long after I’d broken her original phone that I got the call from New York. I was told that some of the findings in Amelia’s apartment might be very valuable to her, so they could be sent to us if she wanted it. Since then, I’d decided to keep some of the findings a secret… until now.

Amelia finds the tabbed closure and lifts it, then flips the cover back, revealing an antique-looking gold watch. I watch her face intently, not wanting to miss a second of the surprised expression that’s sure to come when she sees the face of the watch, where a miniature, circular picture of her family resides. Her grey eyes become squinted as she studies it, but then they widen, and realization blankets her face as her mouth opens slowly. “Ross…” is all she says. Silence follows, but it’s not the type I want to escape. It’s the pleasant kind; it’s the kind that means the recipient of the gift has no words to express their thoughts.

“A crew from the FBI was going through your things and found this picture in an album… It was soon after I broke your phone that they called to tell me, so I thought it would be perfect. Again, sorry about that…” I say quietly as I nervously rub the back of my neck, hoping that Amelia doesn’t get upset with me again, and that this peaceful moment isn’t ruined. “The album was sent with Hagen, but I wanted to wait… to give it to you along with this watch.”

“You mean it’s here now?” she asks.

“Yeah.” I bend down and open the drawer of the nightstand that sits beside me, then pull out the photo album. It’s very nearly small enough to fit into my pocket, and it isn’t too thick, either. The title on the front tells me that it’s been reserved for pictures of her family alone. There are only a few photos in this book. “Here it is.”

Softly, she replies, “Thanks.” I look at her face as she takes the album with one hand while she clutches the watch in her other. Amelia flips it open and glances over the first page… the only page that’s occupied, and her eyes suddenly appear soft and shiny.

“Those had better be happy tears,” I say with a hint of playfulness in my tone. A tear escapes and rolls down her left cheek, and then a few more follow. I don’t miss the embarrassed expression that comes to her face as she uses her sleeve to quickly wipe them away.

Amelia puts the watch, its case and the photo album onto my bed, then takes a quick step in my direction. She wraps her arms around my waist and hugs me tightly. “Thank you so much, Ross. This means so much to me.” I return the hug, silently praying that her closeness doesn’t make this any harder for me. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply, taking in as much as I can of the intoxicating floral scent of her long auburn hair. “Really, it’s among the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me,” she continues.

I want so desperately to just kiss her, but I can’t. Especially not after what I just told her about ‘my girlfriend.’ “You’re very welcome,” I reply. “I’m glad you like your watch, and that your album was returned to you. Hopefully we’re, um, friends again?” I ask uncomfortably. The word ‘friends’ is almost too painful for me to say when I want more. I can’t believe Amelia managed to do this to me in such a short period of time.

She releases me and steps back. “Yes, of course. I owe you an apology as well… So, I’m sorry for my bad attitude towards you… and for very nearly giving you grey hair from the start, as you so kindly put it.”

I laugh at her version of my words. “I did not say that… I said I was surprised that I hadn’t yet gone grey.”

Amelia waves my correction off. “Same difference.”

“And don’t worry,” I reply with a small smile. “I’m pretty sure I had the majority of that attitude you mentioned.” Amelia’s smile is soft as she stares into my eyes. I can’t seem to look away from hers. She reaches toward my face, but I’m unable to move. Her soulful gaze has captured me; her eyes have paralyzed me with the beauty they possess. I feel as if she’s speaking to me with her eyes, even if she doesn’t realize what she’s doing.

A brow raised, Amelia asks, “Is that a grey hair?” as she holds several strands, lifting them and bringing the ends toward her, as if she’s trying to get a better look. I laugh quietly in response to her joke, but then another moment of silence fills the room. Under certain other circumstances, I’d be content to simply stare into her eyes all day. Amelia senses the change and backs away before turning around and heading toward the door. She turns to me and, before exiting the room, says, “Ross?”

“Yeah?”

Her shoulders slowly lower, and I wonder if she realizes that her body is sending me messages. Her eyes hold a sadness that I haven’t seen in a while, but they do not tear again. Turning back toward the door, she mumbles, “Never mind,” then walks out, her head held low.