Her Sweetest Mistake (Amelia) novel Chapter 93

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Best friend Dad

Daniel eventually agreed to accept George’s money. They pooled together the necessary funds and paid off the Snakesmen. However, the gang demanded double. George had stood his ground, his eyes darkening with rage and

venom.

His voice was ice–cold as he warned them, “Come back and find yourself getting whisked away into jail for the rest of your life. Trust that I have the ability to do that.”

The leader sneered but ultimately asked his gang to back off. The threat of law enforcement wasn’t worth the trouble.

A week passed.

George had tried everything to reach Cheryl. He sent texts, long, heartfelt messages, apologies, pleas. He called, left voicemails, sent emails, each one expressing his remorse and desperation to see her again. But she never replied. The silence was like a knife cut, sending a sharp pain each time.

That evening, Vanessa walked into the dimly lit living room to find her father hunched over a bottle of whiskey. The amber liquid gleamed under the soft glow of the lamp, and the room smelled of cigarette. His fingers traced the rim of the glass absentmindedly, his mind elsewhere.

“Dad,” she said cautiously, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?”

George straightened slightly, as if trying to shake off his thoughts. “Nothing,” he muttered, taking a slow sip. ” Just thinking.”

Vanessa sighed and sat beside him, folding her arms. “About Cheryl?”

His grip on the glass tightened. He didn’t respond, but his silence spoke volumes. Vanessa reached out, covering his hand with hers. “You tried your best dad and she’s alive because of you. Right now, she may be staying away but you know why. She’s hurt, Dad. You need to give her time.”

George let out a shaky breath. “I just… I need to know she’s okay. I can’t stop thinking about what could have happened if we were just a second late.” But deep down, he knew it was more than that.

“She’s strong,” Vanessa assured him. “She’ll be fine. And she’ll come around. Eventually.”

George nodded, though doubt clouded his eyes. Eventually felt too far away.

Meanwhile, Cheryl was struggling with her own fears. Ever since the kidnapping, she had been hesitant to go out, the fear of being snatched still vivid in her mind.

On this particular day, she decided to take a step forward.

Sally, her childhood friend, had invited her to lunch, and after much internal debate, Cheryl agreed. The bustling café was warm and lively, the scent of coffee and freshly baked pastries filling the air. As they sat across from each other, Sally cracked jokes, making Cheryl laugh for the first time in days. For a while, she felt at ease, the weight of her trauma momentarily lifting.

“I swear, if you keep brooding like this, you’ll turn into an old woman before thirty,” Sally teased, nudging her playfully.

Cheryl chuckled, shaking her head. “I just needed some time to breathe, you know?”

“Well, it’s good to see you out of that cave you call an apartment.”

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Cheryl rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. “I’ll be back in five,” she said, excusing herself to use the restroom. On her way back, as she turned the corner, she collided into someone. Strong hands steadied her before she could stumble.

She looked up and her breath caught in her throat.

It was him. George.

Cheryl sat at the kitchen table, pushing the food around her plate as her parents‘ hushed voices floated in from the living room. She hadn’t been trying to eavesdrop, but their anxious tones made it impossible to ignore.

“I don’t feel safe here, Daniel,” Monica said, her voice laced with worry. “We need to move. Cheryl’s been through enough, and I won’t let her live in fear any longer.”

Cheryl’s grip on her fork tightened. The thought of leaving had never truly crossed her mind, but now it was happening. And with that realization came a flood of memories, memories she had spent months trying to suppress.

The last time she had seen George was at the restaurant some days back.

His hands gripping her waist, his voice thick with desperation as he told her he was sorry. His gaze piercing through her walls, breaking down every defense she had built.

The moment he pulled her closer, his breath fanning her lips, she had almost surrendered. Almost kissed him. But then, a passerby had unknowingly interrupted the moment, pulling her back to reality. She had walked away, furious. Not just at him, but at herself for almost giving in.

And now she was leaving.

The airport was bustling with activity, but Cheryl barely noticed. Vanessa stood beside her, a sad smile on her lips as they prepared to say goodbye.

Cheryl hesitated before finally asking, “Why isn’t your dad here with you?”

Vanessa sighed. “He’s working.”

Something about the way she said it made Cheryl doubt it, but she didn’t press further. She simply nodded, forcing a smile before pulling Vanessa into a tight hug. They whispered promises to keep in touch, to visit, but deep down, Cheryl knew that distance had a way of changing things.

Four months later.

The new city had given her a fresh start. A new school, new friends, a new life. But despite all of that, she still found herself stuck to the past.

Sitting in a quiet café, Cheryl absently stirred her coffee, the warm aroma filling the air. She was lost in thought when she caught a glimpse of someone familiar at the car park.

Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair that curled slightly at the ends.

Her breath hitched. For a moment, she thought it was him. He had come all this way for her.

Her heart pounded as she watched the man turn around.

It wasn’t George.

Disappointment settled deep in her chest, an ache she hadn’t expected. She looked away quickly, feeling foolish.

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What had she been hoping for?

She shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat. It was time to move on. For real, this time.

Cheryl sat on her bed, the glow of her phone screen illuminating the dark room. Her thumb hovered over her call log, scrolling through the messages she had just sent but never received a reply to. She had expected him to reach out by now. To apologize again. To fight for her. But the silence stretched on, and it hurt more than she cared to admit.

Sighing, she tossed her phone onto the bed and flopped back against her pillows. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was stubbornness. But she had refused to make the first move. Until now.

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