Chapter 13

AMARA'S POV*****

“Where is she now?” I said. “I'm on my way.”

“Ma'am.”

“Please calm down. You don't need to come tonight. She's stable,” she assured me.

“She's resting. She needs the rest. I’m monitoring her closely.”

My cheek was wet. I didn't realize I was crying.

“Please watch her. I'll be there tomorrow. Please,” I sobbed.

“It's fine. She's okay. Try to rest.”

“Thank you.” I ended the call.

Here I was, laughing , sunbathing, pretending life was soft, while my mother lay in a hospital bed. I'd forgotten how fragile everything was. How easily this world reminded me where I belonged.

This isn't my life. 

Dorian touching me like that… then acting like it meant nothing. Like I was nothing.

The tears came freely now. I didn't fight them. I was also tired of being strong. So tired of holding everything together. I couldn't lose my mom. I couldn't.

I curled into myself on the bed, pressing a cloth to my mouth, swallowing the sounds that wanted to escape.

Even at this moment, I couldn't help but want Dorian's presence. “I wish he was here,” I murmured.

Then I drifted off.

—----

I heard a loud knock on my door. 

“Amara! Open up,” the voice said.

I groaned, rolling over and falling asleep again.

“Amara! Amara! Wake up.”

Then I felt someone shaking me.

I blinked slowly. I squinted my eyes at the sunlight, trying to make out the faces. A face hovered over mine– too close. It looked like Dorian.

“Dorian? I asked. “Am I seeing things now? Okay… yeah. I've officially lost it.”

He didn't disappear. I wasn't fully awake. I think I'm dreaming. I might as well say my piece while at it.

“You're heartless,” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep and tears. 

“You did those things to me and just ignored me,” I started crying again.

Then I heard a laugh. I opened my eyes fully. Dorian was standing there. In flesh. What! I wasn't dreaming. This is bad. I wished the ground could swallow me. I sat upright.

Isabel stood there, hand over mouth, clearly trying not to laugh but failing miserably.

“Amara, that was quite the show,” she laughed loud.

Dorian stood there clearly upset. Like I had wounded him. Guilt and regret was written all over his face. 

I felt embarrassed 

“We were so worried about you,” Isabel said. “ We kept calling you but you didn't answer. Dorian had to find a spare key to open it even though he wanted to break down the door so badly.”

Anyways I'll leave you two. She turned and left. Her footsteps faded. Then silence.

Dorian stood there looking at me. Studying me.

“Your eyes are swollen,” he said. “Did you cry?”

I looked away. Staring at the window.

“I'm fine.”

Are you sure?

“Yes.”

He didn't move. He stayed rooted in the spot. I hoped he'd talk about yesterday. Or anything but he kept staring at me.

“If that's all, I'd like some time alone.”

I laid back down. “And I have an urgent business I need to take care of at home. So I'd appreciate it if we left now.”

He looked at the ceiling then me, like he's holding himself from saying something.

“Sure, I'll be waiting downstairs,” he turned to leave but then paused at the door. “Take your time.”

I held my tears back. No, I won't cry. Not again. This was meant to be a job. I shouldn't get attached to him. Our worlds are too different. 

I went into the bathroom to shower. Dressed up and went downstairs. He was already waiting in the car.

“I hope we get to do this again.” Isabel said. “ I had a great time.”

“Me too.”

“Amara, you're always welcome here. It's your home too,” Marcus said.

He reminded me of my father. I missed him so much.

“Thank you, Marcus.”

“Bye Isabel.”

I climbed into the car and we drove off.

I didn't try to make conversation this time. I stayed quiet, looking out the window. I'm so worried about my mom. I hope she's okay. It's my fault. I should have been there, instead I was here–

“I'll be travelling to Paris tomorrow.” Dorian said, interrupting my thought.

“For a business deal. I'll be there for a week.”

I didn't look at him. I didn't answer him but I felt a pang of hurt in me. I felt sad. So I don't get to see him for a week. It's good. It's a good thing. It will help me get over whatever I feel for him. At least I hoped I would.

I was too lost in my thoughts to remember he was still there. He didn't say a word after that.

We arrived at my house. But he didn't unlock the door. I finally looked at him with questioning eyes. Our eyes met for the first time that day.

“It wasn't a mistake,” he said. “I don't regret it.”

My heart rate picked up. I had so many questions to ask him but I was too shocked to remember any. 

He unlocked the door. I guess that was my sign to leave. And I got out of the car. He drove away.

I stood there for a moment replaying his words over and over.

Maybe I judged him too fast.

I was excited. Maybe he isn't such a bad person after all.