CHAPTER TWO- One Bad Night

Amara's POV

The cab came to a crawling halt in front of a bar where there were neon lights flashing over the door.

When he has a bad day, he said, then this place makes him forget a bit.

I stared at the building. I did not know whether anything would put me out of mind of today, but I had nowhere to go. I put a hand into my purse to get some money, although my hands were trembling so much that I nearly dropped it.

"How much is--"

With a little wave, he broke in upon me. "Don't worry about it. You've had enough for one day. Just take care of yourself."

For a moment, I couldn't speak.

Thank you, I said, just barely able to keep my voice in check.

He nodded and drove off. I made a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and walked in.

The music hit me immediately. Loud. Heavy. Individuals dancing as though it were none of their business. Mixed laughter and the clink of glasses. Everyone was free in a manner that I was envious of. My entire day was ruined, and these individuals were leading their better lives.

I walked straight to the bar. I did not even take time to sit down. I simply drew out a few dollar bills and put them on the counter.

"Shots," I said.

The bartender looked at me and then at the money, and never asked even a single question. He poured a shot. I took it. He poured another. I drank that too.

The alcohol burned, but it was nothing compared with all the rest.

The third one made me shut my eyes, and the picture of my boss bending over me came to my mind.

Spend some nights with me, and I will make you a promotion.

The revulsion that I felt came back.

Then I recalled my mother, who was lying back home and was waiting to be given some medicine which I could not afford.

Then in the bed of my fiancé, my sister.

Then my father said to me to share a man as we were toys on the same shelf.

I swallowed another shot.

I do not know how long it took before somebody sat next to me. I didn't look up until he spoke.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

His voice was low and quiet, not obtrusive. His tone was neither pity nor reproach, but curiosity, as he would fain have known.

I gave a feeble laugh, which seemed rather a breath. "I was cheated on."

He didn't flinch. "I'm sorry."

At last, I turned my head and looked at him. I could not see very clearly, and he appeared stable, almost too stable in comparison with my trembling.

Be honest, I said, and my words were somewhat slurred. "Am I ugly?"

He shook his head. "No. Not at all."

It was not the words--men can lie easily, but his voice was without hesitation. I had almost forgotten about the pain in my chest.

We started talking. I don't remember everything. I told him what I should not have told him. He posed some questions and did little listening. He didn't judge me. He did not inform me that I was overreacting. I wasn't used to that.

The room started to lean at some point. My legs were weak when I attempted to stand to balance myself. He caught me by the arm, and I fell.

"You're too drunk," he said. "You shouldn't be here alone."

I am all right, I said, though the words were not easy to say.

No, you are not, he said, shaking his head. "Come on."

He got me on my feet, and I did not struggle with him this time. My head was heavy, my chest pained, and I wanted all that spinning to cease- even the thoughts in my mind.

We walked upstairs to a room. It looked simple but clean. He placed me on the bed, and there was a time when he maintained some distance, as though he was giving me breathing room. Then I leaned over him, first without considering. Or maybe it was alcohol, or maybe it was loneliness, or maybe it was all that made me today. But one moment led to another.

A kiss.

A touch.

Clothes falling to the floor.

Heat. Desperation. Mess.

It occurred in a rush and at the same time sluggishly. I didn't think. I didn't plan. I simply gave myself a chance to sink into something that was not pain.

By the time it was finished, I was there in a half-closed state of exhaustion. The stranger slept next to me.

Then my phone buzzed.

I closed my eyes gradually and had to bring myself to sit up. I grabbed the phone.

Mom Calling...

My heart contracted at once.

"Mom..." I whispered.

I pressed the answer button--

The call ended. The screen went black.

"No... no, please--Mom?" I replied, although I knew she could not hear me.

The panic hit instantly.

I leaped out of bed, almost falling over to take off my clothes.

I hurriedly descended the staircase and ran outdoors. I hailed a taxi in desperation.

As I came home and opened the door, my heart sank.

The son of my neighbor was standing inside.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice shaking.

“Aunt Amara... your mom fainted. We rushed her to the hospital."

I didn't even answer him. I swung round and ran out of the door so quickly that I almost slipped. I stopped another taxi and informed the driver of the name of the hospital.

It was too white when I entered the hospital. Too familiar. I'd been here too many times. I have noticed a nurse who knew me well.

"Amara? Come with me," she said.

I walked along a silent passage with her. Each step turned my stomach.

My mother was lying in bed when we entered the room, and I could not tell whether she was sleeping or unconscious. There was a doctor standing next to her, glancing at the chart he was holding.

He raised his eyes when I entered.

His eyes were somewhat softened, but his voice was grave.

"I have bad news."