love came calling, twice // olly murs

12.

It was the middle of the afternoon that Wednesday and the lighting outside was perfect. It was warm, yet not too hot and Olly figured it was the perfect time to venture outside and take some of the shots he had been dreaming about since he saw Amelia planting red and yellow peonies in the garden two days earlier.

Gardening had become one of the many hobbies she had taken up. She worked from nine in the morning, planting the flowers with such delicate care, as if they were her children. He watched her for nearly half an hour from Tom's bedroom window as he shoved the broken wood of the bed frame into piles. He watched as her small hands dug the holes, cupped the flowers gently and patted the soil around them. He watched as she lovingly sprinkled water over them before standing back to inspect her work. He sighed. She had so much love to give and now that Tom was gone and revealed to be the bastard that he was, she had no one to give it to.

The flowers were lucky.

Stepping outside, he went over to the garden and knelt down in front of the garden Amelia had created, adjusting the brightness on his camera. Framing the shot, he took a picture of one particularly perfect flower and thought back to Amelia's face when Adam had inquired to why she had spent the day gardening.

"You guys are letting me stay here for free," she said quietly. "You're...just know that this is the least I can do to try and attempt to repay you."

She acted like she owed them so much. But what had they done but make her life more miserable? She would have been so much better off not knowing about Tom's betrayal. Bringing her to the house had led her to his skeletons. It had done her no good. She wasn't healing. She just broke, once and for all.

It was the opposite, really, he thought, framing another shot; they owed her. Or really, Olly owed her. Olly had been the one who had kept that information from her for so long, keeping her in the dark and allowing her to plan a wedding to a man who didn't really love her. He swallowed, the same pit in his stomach surfacing as he remembered how awful he had been. He was the one who should be doing things to repay her, things to make her whole and happy again. He was the one who had delivered the news that had broke her, after all, and she had so easily gone with it.

He thought back to their conversation in the kitchen nearly a week ago, the way she had cried and apologized. She was so backwards, he should be the one groveling for forgiveness. And he was, just in his own, different way. Part of doing so was giving her the space she needed and obviously wanted.

Jason didn't understand. He tried, so he got points for that, but in the long run it was impossible for him to really grasp what was going on and how Amelia felt about it. Then again, he knew nothing of the words Olly and Amelia had exchanged in the kitchen. So it was stupid of Jason to insinuate that Olly could wave some magic wand and get Amelia to smile again.

He thought back to the clumsy way he had dropped the cereal box at her admission that she didn't hate him. He had expected her to yell and scream, glare at him and treat him awfully after everything that had happened. However, she hadn't. She had become quiet around him, an almost pleasant disposition. He felt overwhelmed at this, knowing that the thing he had believed would cause her to hate him even more had done the opposite. He didn't know how to feel about it.

"What are you doing?" He glanced up, startled and swallowed roughly when he saw Amelia standing there, a book in her hand. She was dressed in jeans, a purple tank top and a long white cardigan. She looked tired, despite all the hours she had slept lately.

"Just taking some still-life photos," he answered quietly. "These are some gorgeous flowers you planted."

Her eyes snapped up to his profile as he raised the camera and took another snapshot. "You garden?" she asked, curious.