Thanking the heavens, she sighed in relief. She quietly walked to the door and slowly unlocked it. The door openedwith a creak as Amara stilled. She looked over her shoulder, but Rafael was still asleep.
She swallowed hard and slowly opened the door and locked it behind her. Her feet automatically took her to the confines of her room as she closed the door behind her and leaned her back against the door. Her knees were out as she slid down the door.
Pulling her knees closer to her chest, she rested her head against the door and let out a deep sigh. What her life had become? So painful and hopeless.
She couldn’t see the road that would take her to peace. Wherever she looked, there she found the closed doors.
Her heart clenched as she bit her cheeks to restrain herself from crying. She wished whateverwas happening right now was a part of the nightmares and not real. But the slight pain in her neck and head told her it was all too real.
This reality was inescapable.
The weight of despair settled upon my shoulders, each breath a struggle against an invisible tide of anguish. Aching echoes of a shattered heart reverberated through the soul, drowning hope in the relentless sea of sorrow. In the silence, pain spoke louder than any words, carving trenches of despair in the landscape of the spirit.
Amara held her broken heart in her hands and prayed for God to mend it.
She refused to cry. Cause crying was weak, and she didn’t want to look weak.
Gathering herself, she got up stumbled to the bathroom and removed her clothes. Running the cold shower, she stood under it and scratched her body with her nails. Rafael’s touchdisgusted her and repulsed her. She hated the feeling of his hands on her.
A shiver crawled up her spine, an involuntary recoil at the memory of him kissing her. Her skin cringed beneath the contact as if trying to escape the unpleasant sensation. His touch lingered like a stain, and her body yearned to shed the discomfort, an unsettling residue of repulsion left in its wake.
She gritted her teeth as she continuously rubbed her skin as it turned red and bloody.
She didn’t know how long she stayed there, but it didn’t matter how much longer it was, she still couldn’t erase his touch. Defeatedly, she sobbed in the shower for another hour.
When her tears ran out, she stepped out with a tired body and red-rimmed eyes.
It took everything in her to drag herself to the closet and pull out another one of the long-sleeved grey dresses. It was dull just like her life.
Amara stood before the mirror, her reflection mirroring the monotony of her life. The fabric fell around her like a cloak of routine, each fold whispering the darkness. As she buttoned up the dull sleeves, it was as if she adorned herself in the embodiment of ritual.
She gathered her hair in a bun tucking the strands away behind her hair making sure no hair was out of place. She didn’t even apply anything on her face. She didn’t have the heart to do it. She didn’t want to. Who was she trying to impress? Rafael? The man looked at her like an object.
Slowly, wearing her slippers she walked to the kitchen taking a deep breath. Fully expect to see Rafael there.
What surprised her was the note that was near the dried-out peonies. With an accelerating heart, she gripped the note and unfolded it.
‘I’ll be home late. Eat and sleep in my room.’ She read the words again and again. He left?
She swallowed hard not believing. Taking a shaky step towards his room, she opened it with her shaky hands. When she found the unmade empty bed, she almost sighed in relief.
The heaviness on her shoulders lifted slightly.
Amara made the bed and started tidying the living area. She was glad Rafael wouldn’t be home. She got herself engaged in other tasks. Yet her head was spinning with thoughts. She attempted not to let Rafael’s hurt her but they pained her more than that.
Amara felt lightheaded by the time she was done tidying the apartment. Partially because she was occupied with irrational thoughts and also because she skipped breakfast.
She took a deep breath and was about to sit on the couch when the doorbell rang.
For a moment she stilled. Who it could be? Blinking at the door for a moment, she slowly walked to the door. Holding the doorknob, she tried to hear any sound from outside.
A faint knock was heard again. Amara swallowed and twisted the knob.
As soon as she opened the door, a man was standing on the other side wearing a black suit and tattoos all over his bald skull.
Amara tensed.“Yes?”
“Come with me, Mrs. De Luca.” The man muttered without looking at her. Amara frowned. She eyed him warily keeping her hold tight on the knob.
