CHAPTER 7
"How long? How much fucking long?!" Rafael ran his hand through his hair as he paced around the room with tensed shoulders. Abigail watched him with concern. It had been two days. Two fucking days and yet no lead.
Rafael wasn’t sure what he was looking for anymore. Every lead led to dead end. Even the men he hired to investigate seemed useless. The staff didn’t know what happened that night, and the guard were scared of Rafael’s rage. This huge mansion clawing at him.
How did someone managed sneak into his goddamn house and hurt his wife?!
The guards who were supposed to protect the house at that time were quickly fired by Rafael before interrogation.
Even the CCTVs around the house were tampered with.
Either this was work of someone who was far clever to be a stranger or someone he knew.
Too well. And that thought just someone—who might be close to him—did such beastly thing to his wife, enraged him to no point of turning back.
Moreover, despite everything, he hated himself. For being such inconsiderate bastard. For being a horrible person to the only woman in this universe who loved him with everything she had—her soul, mind, and body.
Rafael used her. Used her and throw her.
Marriage. The pure bond, he insulted that holy thing. He regretted sleeping with other women despite being married to Amara. Staying nights out in hotels, barely coming home. And when he did, he’d use her to relive his stress.
And like a mad woman in love, she let him. Rafael never felt so terrible.
He was stressed and held himself responsible for everything that happened to Amara. Nothing seemed right and in this colorful world, there was only darkness surrounding him.
Amara.
Whenever he thought of her, there was a dull ache in his chest. He missed her.
He missed her more than he ever thought.
A bittersweet tug of war between his heart and mind.
He yearned for her laughter, her soft chuckle, her gaze that could even turn the darkest of the night with its alluring pull.
And at the same time, he never wanted to show her his face.
He did not deserve her. Not even her hatred.
Rafael didn’t know what changed in this small time of a week. The woman he hated, now was the one he couldn’t stop thinking about. The very thought boggled his mind.
Forget about the moon and sun, she was becoming his sky.
"Calm down, Rafael. Anger won't solve anything." Abigail mumbled. But that was far from what was going on in Rafael’s head.
"Then what? What do I do, Gail? How will I avenge her?!" Rafael slammed his fist on the table in frustration and his friend looked worriedly at him. “I cannot just sit still and let her culprit run free.”
"I understand what you’re feeling right now, but I guess you need some rest. You don’t look good to me.
" He muttered, his eyes finding Rafael’s and the latter averted them to the window.
Abigail was right, this matter was not in his hands anymore.
He did not know who was responsible for Amara’s condition, neither did he know how he was supposed to find that man.
The bruises on her body flashed before his eyes and he shut them close instantly.
And his health, he lost some much weight in just two days. Eyes sunken, and complexion paler than usual.
Kaelith. If anyone could help him, it was Kaelith. The man was adamant about taking his wife away from him. The thought left a bitter taste behind. How could Rafael be so stupid to make such a bet? Bet on what? His fucking wife? The one he did it wanted to let go of?
"I don’t have time to tend to myself." His jaw clenched, and he looked outside the window hazily. Abigail hummed.
"Then forget about Amara. Do you know how she will feel when she’ll see you? She’d probably blame herself for this like always." Abigail shrugged his shoulders.
Rafael clenched his jaw tightly. The conflicting currents of both misery and despair tortured him. His thoughts whirled like wind—his heart felt like broken and tossed shop in the shore.
Abigail sighed and approached Rafael, placing his hand on his shoulder, he said in a calmer voice.
“You should see a therapist. And for the time being, I’ll take care of your business.”
Rafael pondered. He did not want to worry Amara. Not after everything that happened. He already hurt her enough in these past two years.
Abigail insisted. “Think of Amara. Please.” Amara.
Rafael subtly nodded.
"I’ll hire someone for you then." Abigail beamed. Sucking a deep breath Rafael pushed himself off the wall and walked to the chair. His back muscles stretched with tension as he eyed and stared at Amara and his wedding photos hanging on the wall.
Amara looked happiest when she married Rafael, just because she loved him, but Rafael, on other hand looked dull and dark. One smile. If he once smiled at her, this wouldn’t had happened.
******
The garden was gigantic like a living painting. The area was filled with colorful flowers, green plants, and even some gentle butterflies or chirping birds. The tranquil and refreshing sight.
For a moment she even forgot Martha was with her and when she felt Martha placing her hand on her shoulder, Amara flinched.
"Almost forgot you were here." Amara laughed. Martha smiled back, looking down at her with a warmth. Her brown eyes squinting playfully stroking Amara’s caramel long hair twisting them in a braid.
“Of course you did, the flowers took all your interest away.” Amara nodded turning back to look at the flowers while Martha rolled the braid in low bun. Grabbing few flowers, she placed them in her hair, admiring the softness.
Martha viewed Amara as her own child even though they were just ten years apart. She reminded her of her daughter, Mira.
Amara excitedly glanced with awe.
There were roses and sunflowers and then a large section of the garden was covered in peonies.
She wondered if Kaelith specifically planted them for her to see.
The thought vanished as soon as it came.
Why would he plant them for her? And even if he did, there was no way the plants would grow in just three days.
Amara laughed at her silliness.
“They’re beautiful. Who takes care of them?” She looked up at Martha.
“I do.”
“You do?” Amara’s eyes widened in astonishment. “You have so much work. I feel back for you.” She pouted feeling bad for Martha.
“You don’t have to. Mr. Luca pays me well.” Martha wiggled her brows.
“He is kind.” Martha did not reply. She didn’t want to say Kaelith was kind he was the opposite.
But ever since Amara came here, Martha saw a change in him.
His face glowed, eyes sparkled. Even the way he talked to Amara was shocking to the staff.
His gentle voice and kind gestures were something people around him were not used to.
If anything, Kaelith was known to be a merciless and violent man.
There were many times when Martha saw him coming back home covered in blood, not his but someone else’ s.
At one time she was fed up with throwing away his bloodied shirts.
Martha wondered if Amara knew Kaelith had a full armory hidden behind his closet door, that he cleaned once in a while.
No one was allowed in his room except Martha.
And even Martha was not aware of the reason.
Was it because she had been working for more than twenty years? It could be. But Martha wasn’t sure.
"It’s perfect weather for a picnic." Amara sighed dreamily. The sun was shining brightly in a clear, blue sky. There was a gentle, warm breeze that rustled the leaves on the trees and made the air feel just right. The temperature was comfortably mild, not too hot and not too cold.
“We can arrange that.” Amara snapped her head at Martha eyes wide. She shook her hand in a panicked way.
“No! No! I was just saying,” Before Amara could complete, Martha was already sprinting to the door.
“Don’t worry! I’ll be back in ten minutes!” Amara sighed. Here she was, being a burden on people around her. She hoped Martha didn’t spend too much of her energy. She already had so much to do. Even if Kaelith was paying her well, there was only a certain limit her body could accommodate.
Amara sighed, bathing in the sunlight waiting for Martha.