Amaliah's opportunity for a discussion with Caesar was thwarted when Mark Robles, the office gossip, informed her of Caesar's one-week trip to Belize. She hadn't asked him, but he had willingly offered the information when she accidentally mentioned going up to the executive floor to see Caesar.If she were someone else, she knew he would have bombarded her with questions until he was satisfied."Why do you want to see Mr. Masterson?" Mark questioned, his raised eyebrow nearly vanishing into his hairline. "You two are seeing each other, aren't you?"Despite knowing his tactlessness and lack of a filter between his brain and mouth, she still felt offended by his assumption. She was starting to show, and office rumors were circulating about the real identity of the biological father of her baby. She knew the entire situation originated with Mark as the source, yet she hadn't bothered confronting him as she deemed it a waste of time. After all, he would only twist her words when recount
Amaliah clenched her hands, her fingers digging into her palms as the elevator ascended rather slowly to the rooftop. She was content with the slow pace, as it gave her time to think. She didn't want whatever was happening with Caesar to turn into something more than friendship. She knew that Rafael would be sorely disappointed with her for even talking to Caesar, let alone considering becoming his friend. However, even if Rafael were still alive and she had learned of his infidelity as she now knew, he wouldn't have been in a position to dictate whom she could befriend.She couldn't tell him about it either, as that would be like admitting she'd been thinking about it a lot, and he would definitely tease her. Before she could change her mind and press another button, the elevator arrived at the rooftop. The doors swished open, forcing her to step out, and then they closed behind her. Caesar stood there with his hands in his pockets, staring at the vast sky. He must have sensed her
As they walked back to their office, Mark stated, "I don't know if it is just me, but I think the boss didn't like your presentation, Amaliah. Did something happen between the two of you?"Feigning ignorance, Amaliah replied, "Something like what?""Did you have a falling out of sorts?" Mark inquired with a frown."We were never..." Amaliah paused, catching herself just in time as she wondered why she had been about to explain whatever had happened in the conference room. "It wasn't just me. He was clearly in a bad mood." She responded."Uh huh," Mark nodded, looking unconvinced."Ms. Rivers?" Francine Rodriguez, their boss, called from behind them.Mark and Amaliah both turned around to look at her. Francine had an indescribable expression on her face that didn't bode well for Amaliah. Whatever had happened in the conference room wasn't Amaliah's fault but Caesar's. He had interrupted her halfway through her presentation and called on Mark to continue with it. The presentation she h
Caesar felt like a complete failure as he watched Amaliah sleep. It was his fault she was lying there, and the weight of guilt pressed heavily on him. He doubted he could ever forgive himself for hurting her so deeply. He had to admit, she had been right all along. He had convinced himself that he could handle her rejection, but the reality had hit him far harder than he expected. Even Anastasia's indifference, the way she treated him like he wasn’t worth her time, hadn’t stung as much as this.He reminded himself that Amaliah still belonged to someone else—her late husband. Despite the man being gone, her love for him lingered, and Caesar knew he could never force her to feel the same way about him. She was carrying her husband’s babies, a constant reminder that Caesar had no place in her heart or her future.He paced the room, his eyes never leaving her face as he anxiously waited for the doctor. The pain etched on her face when he’d first brought her in had disappeared, replaced b
"For dust we are, and unto dust, we shall return. May the soul of our dearly departed brother, son, father and friend rest in peace.” The priest’s voice reverberated in the otherwise quiet cemetery. Amaliah’s gray eyes were glazed over; raw, dull and full of grief. She was in shock, and she would’ve collapsed on the floor and rolled into the freshly dug grave if it was not for her mother’s firm grip on her arm and her friend's support on her other side. She reached up and ran her hands through her loose ponytail, raking her fingers over her scalp. She didn't care if she bled, all she wanted was the pain and relief that came with doing that. The scrunchie she had put in place to hold her hair came off, and her lush brown hair cascaded down her shoulders. Her limbs were stiff and her legs threatened to give way under her. A dizzying feeling washed over her and bile rose in her throat. The coffin was lowered into the open grave, and Amaliah started to tremble. The priest grabbed a
Amaliah's friend, Sheila Brown was perched on the kitchen counter eating from a bag of chips and chatting with Amaliah when the latter's phone rang. “Hello, am I onto Amaliah Rivers?” a gruff voice spoke up on the other end the instant Amaliah picked up the phone. “Yes, this is Amaliah Rivers speaking. Who is asking?” She placed her cellphone between her ear and her shoulder and continued to chop carrots for the salad she was making. “This is Ted Williams. I'll go straight to the point ma'am. I work for a loan shark, and we deal with loans and investments. Your now-deceased husband, Rafael Rivers took up a loan of $350,000 with an interest of $150,000 to be paid back after five months. All attempts to get across to him have been futile, and after making our findings, we heard that he was buried three months ago. Fortunately, I was able to get your contact information from a source. So I'm calling now to know how and when you intend to make the payment." The knife clattered to th
Whenever they were asked, Rafael would say it was love at first sight. It was for him, but his wife didn’t quite agree that it was so on her part. For Amaliah, it was an intense attraction at first sight, but it wasn’t love, she was sure about it. They met on a Thursday afternoon at the beginning of the summer, after Amaliah’s shift at the coffee shop downtown. He had first caught sight of her a few days before then, but she had no idea. She had been standing in front of the coffee shop, consoling a lady whose shoulders were heaving with sobs. From their body language, he guessed they were friends, and he watched in admiration as Amaliah finally succeeded in making the crying friend smile and wipe her tears. It was a beautiful view, and he felt good watching them. Not many people could make someone smile after they just cried their eyes out. He came to the coffee shop for a few days after that, watching her until he was able to take note of when she usually got off work. On that Th
“Hey girl!” Sheila called as she let herself into the small brownstone. No one had answered the doorbell, so she guessed Amaliah was either cooking or cleaning and didn’t hear it ring. She went through the small hallway and stopped briefly in puzzlement when she noticed that everywhere was dark. The curtains were drawn and a putrid smell hit her nostrils. Clothes, toys and stuff littered every corner, and the kitchen was in worse condition. There were several pots of burnt food on the counter, dirty dishes piled high and all the cabinets were open, with the contents haphazardly fit into them, as if someone had hurriedly shoved them in. Sheila's face registered shock. Amaliah was the neatest and most organized person she had ever had the honor of knowing, so this scene in front of her eyes meant something was terribly wrong. She hurried to Amaliah’s room but didn’t find her there. “Amaliah! Where are you girl!?” Sheila called out, her voice sounding more frantic this time. Had t