Seventy Two

Melody's POV:

"How can he do that?" Amelia exclaimed.

I looked up from my essay papers. The thought that the front door was opened and people were always passing by, was uncomfortable.

Anybody could hear us.

"I don't see a reason why he can't." I replied.

Amelia had known something was up the moment I returned from the café. She didn't press on it. Neither did I tell her. But the next morning, she had finally asked me. And I told her. I didn't see a reason why I shouldn't.

"Maybe he had lost his head or something." She muttered, biting on her nails.

I looked at her confused, before moving back to my essay. I needed to submit it by today. Which was hard since a lot of things were circling my head. A lot of questions. A lot of emotions.

"He loved you, Mel."

She genuinely seemed more sadder than me at that point.

"When I had my memory." I added.

I hated how collected I sounded. In reality, I was a mess. I didn't know what to do. I was so lost.

"But it doesn't end like that." She insisted