CHAPTER 23
The front door creaked open, and Rafael stumbled inside, clearly intoxicated.
Abigail, followed closely behind, trying to keep him steady.
Amara was sitting on the couch, engrossed in a magazine as she looked up, concern etched on her face as she saw Rafael in such a state.
“Rafael, what happened? Are you okay?” She asked worriedly.
Rafael's speech was slurred as he tried to respond.
“I'm fine, baby. Just had a bit too much to drink.” He swayed wobbling on his feet as she quickly got up.
Abigail guided Rafael to the couch and sat him down, his gaze lingering on Amara for a moment longer than necessary. Amara felt a shiver run down her spine, a sense of discomfort settling in her gut.
She avoided his eyes. “Thanks for bringing him home, Abigail. I'll take care of him from here.” Abigail smirked, his eyes still fixed on Amara, but she quickly regained her composure.
He said licking his lips. “No problem. Always happy to help out a friend in need.”
Amara's discomfort intensified, her instincts telling her that something was off about this man. She forced a weak smile and turned her attention to Rafael, who was slumped on the couch.
She said softly. “Let's get you some water and help you lie down.”
Rafael nodded, his gaze unfocused. Amara stood up and walked towards the kitchen, hoping to put some distance between herself and Abigail. Abigail watched her intently, a predatory glint in his eyes.
Amara filled a glass with water, her mind racing with unease. She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that Abigail's gaze left behind. As she turned around, she found Abigail leaning against the kitchen counter, his posture suggestive.
Amara flinched. “Did you need something?” She asked avoiding his eyes.
He shook his head, looking her up and down.
“Just thought I'd keep you company. After all, you must be alone all day.” He said slowly taking a step in her direction, his predatory gaze scared her.
As she took an instinctive step back, he shamelessly walked forward trapping her between his body and the counter.
Amara felt her chest tightening with uneasiness as she looked around. He leaned down. “You’ re still as beautiful as I remember. So pure and innocent.” He suggestively licked his lips looking down at her.
Amara's face flushed with anger and disgust as she tried not to show it on her face.
Her voice quivered with a mix of anger and fear. She mustered all her strength and walked past him to the living room where Rafael drunkenly mumbled to himself.
Abigail followed behind her. “Do you not remember me?”
Amara stilled, the glass of water tightening in her grip as she took a deep breath calming her heart. This man scared her to the core. She carefully chose her words. “You’re Rafael’s friend.”
Abigail's smile faded, replaced by a look of anger and frustration.
He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest as he looked down at her. “Trust me, little one, I am more than a friend.”
Amara confused by his words snapped her head at him but he was already walking to the door leaving Amara standing there, shaken but relieved. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, before returning to Rafael's side.
Amara helped Rafael to his room, tucking him into bed with care.
As she sat by his side, watching over him, she couldn’t help but feel a lingering sense of unease.
Her worry for him mixes with the unsettling encounter with Abigail.
She brushed a strand of hair away from Rafael's face, her thoughts consumed by what just happened.
Amara's mind raced, contemplating whether she should tell Rafael about Abigail. She knew that she needed to protect herself but she also feared the consequences of speaking out against Abigail. Would Rafael believe her? They were best friends; would it create a problem?
Amara's heart was heavy with a mix of emotions as she tended to Rafael in his drunken state.
Concern for his health mingled with frustration and confusion over the unsettling feeling she felt whenever she thought of Abigail.
She felt his perverted gaze, but now she felt bad.
Was she reading too much into the things?
Amara stayed with Rafael the whole night. The sound of Rafael stirring in his sleep snapped Amara out of her thoughts. She leaned closer, her voice filled with concern.
She whispered lowly, “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
Rafael groaned softly, his eyes fluttering open. His gaze met Amara's, and for a moment, his confusion gave way to recognition.
He hoarsely asked in his deep voice. “Amara... What happened?”
She helped him sit, giving him the glass of water. “You came home drunk. Abigail helped bring you back, but he was a bit…strange.” She hesitated fidgeting with her fingers as Rafael drank the water.
Rafael's eyes narrowed, and a mix of concern and confusion flashed across his face. He placed the glass on the table. “You don’t have to worry about him. He’s a man I trust with my life.
” Amara took a deep breath, her voice shaky as wondered if she told Rafael what he did, would he believe her over his best friend?
She bit her tongue, deciding to not tell him anything and grabbed the medicine from the bedside table and gave it to him.
“Here, have some Advil, I’ll make hangover soup for you.”
Rafael watched her with his keen eyes. She looked exhausted and seemed like she woke up the whole night for him.
It reminded him of times when he’d come back home drunk and she would tend to him even though he always pushed her away.
But now, he liked her like this. It gave him a false hope that everything would be good in his favor.
And a part of him felt sorry for her. She deserved better, but the selfish part of him did not want her to have anyone else except him. He wanted to be the only one for her. In seven skies and depths of oceans. He wanted to be hers.
“Thank you.” He smiled gratefully at her.
Amara smiled back grabbed the glass and walked out.
Her limbs were sore. And so was her back.
But she quickly went to the kitchen and took out the vegetables and noodles.
There was leftover chicken in the fridge so she diced it nicely with vegetables and boiled the noodles in a single pot.
Adding some tofu and sesame seeds on top, she let the soup simmer while she made bread toast for him.
Her mind was completely forged with what happened last night, and she still felt shivers running down her spine thinking about that. She shook her thoughts away and focused on the task at hand.
While Amara was in the kitchen, Rafael groaned getting up from the bed.
His head throbbed. The morning light infiltrated the room, casting a harsh glow intensifying the throbbing pain behind his temples.
As he cautiously opened his closed lids once again, the room seemed to waver ever so slightly, the blankets feeling heavy.
Every movement sent discomfort through his body, as he wondered why he drank so much.
“Fuck!” Rafael grumbled. His mouth was dry, a parched sensation as if he had swallowed cotton balls. A bitter taste lingered, a cruel reminder of the party Abigail forced him into.
The dull ache in his head was exacerbated, and a wave of nausea swept over him.
He slowly got himself up and stumbled to the bathroom. The cold water washed his sleep away and cooled his head as he took off his clothes and bathed.
After fifteen minutes, he was feeling a bit better, but the throbbing sensation was too much. He brushed his teeth and changed into clean clothes. And wore his cologne.
Amara entered Rafael's room, a tray in her hands carrying a steaming bowl of hangover soup. The warm aroma of the broth filled the air, creating a comforting atmosphere. Rafael, still nursing the remnants of a hangover, looked up as she entered, his eyes squinting against the light.
She said softly. “I thought you might need something to ease the hangover of last night.” Rafael managed a smile, sitting on the bed. He watched as she gracefully walked, the way her hips moved and her eyes lowered. He felt his heart fluttering at her sight.
She placed the tray on his bedside table and perched on the edge of the bed. The gentle concern in her eyes spoke volumes as she observed his condition.
She grabbed the bowl and placed it in his hand. “I made some bread toast and chicken noodle soup.”
Rafael just couldn’t take his eyes off her, as he absent-mindedly scooped the soup almost spilling it over the sheets. “How do you know I drink chicken soup for hangover?”
He asked savoring the delicious taste. He was amazed that the taste of her cooking was still sane before she lost her memories. The same sweetness and tenderness.
Amara's expression softened, and she reached for the toast, placing it in the soup. “It just… came naturally to me. I guess, it’s saved in my memories.”
Rafael raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “I’m glad. So, I believe you also remember that you used to feed me also.”
Amara’s eyes widened. “Wh-what?”
Rafael bit his inner cheek. Of course, he was lying. He never let Amara feed him. But now he wanted her to feed him. So, he played along. “Of course, you used to feed me with your own hands. I’d appreciate it if you feed me now too.”
He pouted and Amara swallowed hard. Hesitating for a moment she glanced at him. His eyes were hopeful and his lips pulled in a pout. Unable to resist his puppy eyes, she let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, I guess.”
Amara scooped up a spoonful of the steaming broth and gently brought it to his lips. The warmth of the soup was soothing, but Rafael felt the warmth seeping through his mouth to his toes.
As she fed him with tinted cheeks and shy eyes, he admired her. So beautiful. So elegant. Just looking like an Angel.
As she continued to feed him, he continued to admire her.
Amara unconsciously raised her head and their eyes locked for a moment; a quiet intensity filled the room. Rafael completely captivated by the depth in her eyes, admired the subtle beauty that time seemed to enhance. His heart was not in his control anymore as it threatened to escape his rib cage.
Even the sky desired to come and bow at her feet, he wanted to give her such beautiful moments. He wanted to be drenched with her. Forget everything and just remember her and her.