February 1900
Once more, Amelia found herself at the Brooklyn Refuge. After everything that had happened, she needed some one to talk to. Some one who understood. Some one who'd been there every step of the way, whether she'd liked it or not. Some one who knew all the gory details of her and Rock's relationship, whether she'd wanted him to or not.
The man led Spot into the cold, bare room once more and set him down. Amelia frowned when she saw Spot. He didn't look good. He had thinned out even more than usual and had dark circles under his eyes. The man closed the door.
"You look like hell, Conlon," said Amelia.
"Too bad. I was hopin' to try out for the Brooklyn Beauty Pageant," he said.
"Well, you would've taken them by storm," said Amelia. "What's been going on?"
Spot shrugged. "Same as any other refuge in this city. The warden pockets the money the city gives to him. Gives us only what we need to survive. A couple slices of bread and all the dirty water we can drink."
Amelia felt something inside her ache for him. She hated the warden for what he did.
"You still in isolation?" Amelia asked. Spot nodded. Amelia hated to think of him in a small, windowless room in the basement.
"Ain't you gettin' married in a couple months? What are you doin' down here?"
Amelia sighed and looked out the window and the bleak view of tenements. "Rock is gone."
"What?" Spot frowned.
"He's gone," she repeated. "Apparently there's another prettier, richer girl he'd rather marry." She purposely left out that Rock also left because there was no more Wakefield money.
"He can't do that," said Spot, angry. "He can't just leave you like that. You two were engaged, there was a date and a church and everything."
Amelia shrugged. She looked down at her bare ring finger. "You can't make a man do what he doesn't want to," she said, sitting down across from him.
"After he…" Spot said, before slamming his fist on the table. "Bastard."
"Calm down, Conlon," said Amelia, turning around.
"No!" said Spot. "After what he did to you…" He sighed. "So what's gonna happen now?"
Amelia shrugged. "I'll go back on the hunt. Do what I do best – get the men to fall in love with me, and see if another one takes the bait and proposes."
"You used to be a lot happier about doin' that. What else?" asked Spot. Amelia shook her head and looked down. "Come on, I know there's something else bugging you."
"I…it's nothing," said Amelia.
"Come on."
"No."
"Why not?"
"I just can't."
Spot paused. "You're not…"
"What?"
"You know…" Spot mimed a pregnant belly.
"Oh, god, no," said Amelia. "Not…nothing like that."
"Oh, good," Spot said, trying not to show too much relief. "So what is it?"
Amelia felt tears blur her vision. "I'm ruined," she shrugged.
"No you're not," said Spot, leaning forward.
"Yeah, I am," her voice cracked. "Rock said it didn't matter if we slept together because we were going to be married anyway. But now he's gone, and the next man is going to know that he's not my first. No man is going to want a used woman." Her tears dripped down onto her dress as she tried to swallow her sobs.
"Listen to me." Spot leaned in and took her hands. "You're not ruined, okay? There's more to you than just that. The guy who gets to marry you is going to be one lucky bastard. You're generous. You're thoughtful. You're sweet when you're not sassin' me."
Amelia couldn't help but smile.
"And if they get to see the side of you that I see, they'll love you all the more," Spot finished.
She looked up at him. What is he getting at? she thought. "Thanks."
Spot nodded and leaned back.
Things were getting a little too real for her. "I have to go." Amelia stood up. She slid her hand into his. He felt a cigarette in the palm of her hand. Amelia moved to bring her hand back, but Spot was holding on. She looked up at him. They shared a tender look before Spot pulled his hand away, sliding the cigarette into his pocket.
"You're an angel," he said.
"Behave yourself, mister." She walked toward the door.
"Amelia?"
Amelia turned around. Spot stood up and walked over to her, standing very close in front of her. She could tell he wanted to say something, but was having trouble coming up with the words.
There was so much Spot wanted to say to Amelia. He'd been locked up in the refuge countless times, but no one had ever come visit him. Sure, his boys would come to bust him out, but that was it. No one had ever cared as much as she did that he was in there. Now, an upper class girl bribed the warden just to come and visit. He could do nothing for her; she didn't want anything from him. They were just…friends. That was it. They snarked at each other plenty on the outside, but when it was just them in the empty room, they both seemed a little more willing to open up. But how could he say all that to her? He tried, but all that came out was, "Thanks."
Amelia smiled, hearing the weight in his voice behind the single word. She kissed him on the cheek before walking out.
