CHAPTER 8
“It’s delicious,” Amara mumbled with her mouth stuffed with cheese sandwiches. The mayonnaise smeared on her lips as she moaned in bliss.
Martha smiled at her adorable reaction. She couldn't help but join in on the indulgence, grabbing a sandwich of her own and taking a bite.
Though the sandwiches Martha made were simple— cheeses and grated veggies, but as Amara munched like a child, Martha was happy just by watching her eat.
There was something about Amara that pulled Martha to her.
Like a child, innocent and naive, who would look for happiness in little-little things.
It had been only few days but Martha found herself drawing to her beauty and kindness.
Perhaps it was the way Amara's eyes sparkled when she smiled, or the warmth in her voice when she spoke.
Her smile broader when Amara went for another sandwich.
“Wow, they’re amazing!” Amara eyed the sandwiches as it was the last meal she was going to have. Martha was happy she made plenty to feed her. As she watched Amara devour the sandwiches, Martha couldn't help but feel a sense of fulfillment.
When Amara was done with most of the food smeared on her lips and jaw, Martha helped her clean and handed her a freshly squeezed orange juice. “Here, drink.” Amara happily sipped on the juice grabbing the glass with both of her hands. Her eyes sparkled with delight.
It was only eleven in the morning, and Martha was almost done with her work.
So, this relaxing hour was like bliss for her.
She casually leaned back on her hands looking up at the sky.
Amara followed her gaze and a faint smile danced on her rosy lips.
The warm sun bathed them in its golden light, casting a gentle glow on their faces.
Neither of them said anything, just surrounded by sheer tranquility and warmth. And then a thought crossed Amara’s mind. Rafael.
Her smile instantly dropped. She wondered how he was doing.
The weather air felt cold, and the tangy flavor of juice turned bitter.
She hadn’t heard from him ever since he left her.
And neither he visited her. He promised he’d visit her, then why was he here?
Did he not care for her? She was his wife, but why did she feel as if she wasn’t anything to him anymore.
The thoughts churned in Amara's mind, causing a heaviness in her chest.
It was absurd on her part to even this way, but she couldn’t help.
Martha noticed her sullen face.
“What happened?” Amara looked up, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
“Nothing.” Martha could see through the facade, her concern evident in her eyes.
“Tell me, child.” Amara hesitated, unsure if she should share. But the weight of her emotions became too much to bear, and she finally let out a long sigh before speaking.
“Do you think love exits?” Martha’s heart sank as she saw the pain in Amara’s eyes, realizing the depth of her feelings.
“Scientifically speaking, I don’t think there is anything we can call ‘love’.” Martha paused, choosing her words carefully.
Amara looked at her.
“And emotionally?” Martha sighed, her gaze fixed on Amara's troubled expression.
“Then love is everywhere. Even in the way you gaze at those flowers, the way you love the feel of breeze brushing through your hair.” Amara's eyes filled with hope as she took in Martha's words, her expression slowly easing.
“But…do you think love is…forgettable?” Martha leaned in taking Amara’s hand in hers, her voice gentle.
"No, Amara, I don’t think so. It is deeply ingrained, so deep that it flows in our veins. We do not forget it, we just…ignore it.”
“I miss Rafael.”
“I don’t think he…loves me.” Martha squeezed Amara's hand, empathy evident in her eyes.
“How were we, Martha? As a couple?” Amara's voice trembled with uncertainty as she looked at Martha with hazy eyes.
Martha gently squeezed Amara's hand in a comforting gesture. "You and Rafael," she began, her voice soft and reassuring.
"You’re like two souls dancing in the moonlight. There was a connection between you that was deep, a love that shone in your eyes whenever you looked at him."
Amara's gaze never wavered, and she nodded, absorbing Martha's words like a lifeline.
Martha continued, "But love can be complex sometimes, Amara. It can be like a river, sometimes calm and serene, and at other times turbulent and uncertain. People change; circumstances change. Sometimes, we lose sight of what brought us together in the first place."
Amara's eyes welled up with tears, and she bit her lip to stifle herself from crying.
Martha wiped away a tear that escaped and spoke softly, "It's okay to miss him, Amara. Love doesn't simply disappear. It's a part of who you are. But it's also okay to question. You deserve love, no matter where it comes from."
Amara nodded, her emotions still raw, but a glimmer of acceptance started to flicker in her eyes.
“I don’t know much. But master Rafael, he was a kind boy, beautiful smile and shining eyes…
” Martha looked in distance. “But people do change with time. He is still kind, but his smile…I think he lost it somewhere.”
Amara bit her lips. She felt a pang of sadness. “This world is cruel, I guess.” Martha nodded slowly, her eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and understanding.
“It is.” They stayed like that for a long moment. Both of them occupied with their own turmoil. Amara wondered if this was the life she had before losing her memories. She could sense a void deep within her, an emptiness that only made her more eager to get her memories back.
But a part of her—the hidden deepest part—strangely didn’t wanted to regain her memory. It was like her body’s inner voice. Trying to protect her from something. Afraid of the unknown.
The disoriented and distorted memories were like fragments of a shattered mirror of a life she couldn't piece together.
Each shard carrying a piece of a puzzle she longed to solve.
Yet, the more she tried to make sense of them, the more they slipped through her grasp, leaving her feeling drowning in a sea of anticipation.
The gaps in her mind were depths of darkness where echoes of forgotten laughter and tears should have resided.
She felt as though parts of her soul had been erased, leaving behind an emptiness that ached with every heartbeat.
It was as if someone had stolen precious moments from her, leaving only the hollow echoes of their absence.
The blurred faces that occasionally flickered in her memory were like specters, half-real and half-imagined. She reached out to them, desperate to grasp their identities, but they remained inaccessible, slipping away like ghosts into the mist.
The haunting screams sometimes piercing her mind were like shards of glass digging into her soul.
She couldn't place them, but they echoed with pain and anguish, leaving her trembling and breathless. Nightmares haunted her day and night, but she couldn’t tell them to anyone.
She thoughts if she told someone, it’s made her seem insane.
The phantom cries of a past she couldn't remember.
The unrecognizable voices inside her head, they screamed.
Amidst all this, a deep sadness settled within her, a ache for the life she couldn't recall. She yearned to discover the life she once had, but some part of her was scared. Scared what would she find there.
Fear of the unknown. It was a heart-wrenching longing, like a song half-remembered, its melody fading into the depths of her mind.