AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There’s a door just before the pile of rubble, and she opens it.Oh, I think. She’s pressed. She had figured out where the bathroom was. I smirk, finding her resourcefulness funny.
Soon, she returns. She walks back up to where I am and sits beside me. We are quiet for a moment, but then she breaks the air, concern slightly shrilling her voice.
“What if we never get out of here, Derrick?”
I wait for a moment, then I mutter, “Then archeologists will find our bones in some hundreds of years. So, we had better lay well.”
“Stop, Derrick! It’s not funny,” she cries.
“I’m sorry but even if we scream, we are not sure anyone would hear us. So let’s just be calm and think of what to do.”
“But all we’ve been doing since is lamenting, sleeping, and eating canned mackerel.”
“At least.”
“Oh, Derrick,” Amber says, her voice a soft murmur, her hands cradling her head. “I’m scared. I really am.”
Her vulnerability tugs at my heartstrings, and my protective instincts spring to life. In this confined space, there’s no room for barriers, no masks to hide behind. The vulnerability we’ve seen in each other has brought us closer.
Without hesitation, I shift closer to her. The instinct to comfort her, to make her feel safe in the midst of our shared fear, is too strong to ignore. My hands reach out, gently cupping her face, my fingers brushing against her cheeks. My touch is tender, a silent reassurance that I’m here, that she’s not alone in this.
Amber leans into my touch, her eyes searching mine for a glimpse of solace. There’s an unspoken understanding between us, a silent pact that acknowledges our fears and the deepening connection we’re forging.
My thumbs softly caress her cheeks, as if I can wipe away her worries with a simple touch. She lets out a sigh, her body relaxing against mine. There’s a hint of trust in the way she surrenders to my hold.
“Amber,” I say in a voice that’s barely a whisper, “we’re in this together. We’ll find a way out. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, it’s as if we’ve forgotten where we are the chaos outside, and the uncertainty that looms over us. In each other’s presence, we’ve found a rare island of comfort, a haven amid the turmoil.
My arms instinctively wrap around her, pulling her close, as if I can shield her from the harsh realities that have befallen us. The gentle warmth of her body against mine is a reassurance, a reminder that in this dark moment, we’re not alone.
As Amber leans into my embrace, she doesn’t put up any resistance. Her fear, her vulnerability, I feel it all come together in this simple act of seeking comfort. My arms encircle her, holding her close as she lays her head against my shoulder. On the dimly lit roof, amid the uncertain times, there’s a silent understanding that binds us.
“Thank you,” she mutters out to me.
I stroke her hair in response. I’m not sure what I’m doing, but I’m doing it.
“Do you miss your parents?” I ask.
She holds on for a while and then turns her head to mine, freeing my hand from its grip on her hair. “First of all,” she starts with a sly smirk, “I’ve never known my father, and I don’t know if my mother is worth missing.”
Our discussion meanders longer, and she goes ahead to tell me more about her mother, and the lifelong squabbles they both had been having, and how she had to keep up staying with her the whole while.
“What about your father? You say you’ve never known him?” I inquire gently, the question laced with curiosity as I regard Amber.
She takes a deep breath, her eyes focused on a distant point on the roof as if she’s recounting a story from long ago. “I’ve never met my father,” she begins, her voice steady. “In fact, I don’t even know his name. My mom, Lisa, never really talked about him.”
The weight of the unspoken mystery hangs in the air as Amber continues. “You see, my mom had a brief relationship with a man. It was one of those whirlwind romances, the kind that’s passionate but short-lived.” She offers a small, almost wistful smile as she recalls her mother’s story. “It was during a trip to Europe, I believe. From what I found out, they met, sparks flew, and before they knew it, they were caught up in something intense.”
I listen intently, caught in the narrative she’s spinning. Her words are like a tapestry, slowly weaving together the story of her existence. “She got pregnant with me during that time. And when it was over, when they had to part ways, she found herself alone, carrying a piece of that encounter with her. I still don’t know if she ever told him she was carrying me. I’m not sure what to believe. What I know is that I’ve never actually known him before.”
Amber’s gaze returns to me. “Mom returned to the States with the secret of her brief romance, and me growing inside her. She never tried to find him, never looked for him. Maybe she wanted to protect me from the complications of a relationship that had ended so suddenly. Or perhaps, she just couldn’t bear to open that chapter of her life again.”
A deep sigh escapes her, carrying the emotion of her mother’s choices. “She raised me and Jess alone. I adored her so much when I was little, but my resentment for her grew as I grew. But I’ve always wondered about my father, about who he was, what kind of person he might be.”
Amber’s words linger on the rooftop quietude. There’s a melancholic undertone to her story, a profound yearning to fill the void left by the absence of her father. The vulnerability she’s displayed in sharing this deeply personal part of her life is a testament to the bond that’s been growing between us, and I understand her very well.
“You know, I actually had a dad. I probably still do, but I never wished to have anything with him,” I blurt out.
