CHAPTER 9
The next few days blurred into one another, like watercolor strokes blending on a canvas.
Amara found peace in the simplicity of her days, losing herself in the vibrant swirls of paint she spent hours on and the comforting presence of Martha. Her emotions remained stormy, but amidst the chaos, she was slowly discovering ways to piece herself back together.
Sometimes he’d wake up and find herself in an unfamiliar room, strange and lonely. Yet, as the days passed, she started relying more on her conscience than her fears.
And strangely, whenever Kaelith was home, the nightmares were less frequent.
She’d feel someone beside her bed every night, dreamily stroking her hair, running their gentle fingers on her delicate skin.
But when she’d open her eyes, the bedside would be empty.
There would be lingering coldness left on her skin.
She’d wonder if she once again imagined things.
But the wrinkled sheets on the other side, how could she possibly imagine them? Moreover, the chilling sensations in her heart were still there.
Another day passed. Amara would paint for hours in her room, and in the afternoon, she’d join Martha. They’d spend hours chatting and making cookies, sometimes baking cake.
Amara realized she had a sweet tooth. She enjoyed sweets and the crunchiness of cookies more than the softness of cakes. She was slowly finding her likes and dislikes.
As the day descended towards the night, the evening sun casted a warm, golden glow through the window, Amara sat in her room, surrounded by canvases and paints. The room was infused with the gentle scent of acrylics.
Martha had been quietly observing Amara for a while now. With a soft smile, she broke the silence. "The way you paint is mesmerizing."
Amara paused, her brush hovering over the canvas, the tip of it dripping with deep red color.
She turned to look at Martha, a mix of surprise and gratitude in her eyes.
"You think so? I don’t even know how… I am doing this.
This seems natural… like the desire to paint is infused in my veins.
” Amara was aware she lost her memories, but there were some things that came naturally to her.
Like how she liked peonies, the sweets, desire to paint even though she didn’t know how to, her hands moved on their own.
Even the books she read, she felt like she had read them before.
There were several gaps, but memories could be forgotten but the habits could not.
Martha nodded earnestly, her eyes fixated on the canvas as she spoke. "Absolutely. Your brush strokes are like a dance, a beautiful blend of colors and emotions." Martha watched the way Amara paint. The painting was still half-down, but Martha could tell what she was painting.
Rafael’s portrait.
Amara's cheeks flushed with a hint of modesty, but she couldn't help but be touched by Martha's compliment. "Thank you. I guess it’s my way of coping with all that's missing in my life.” She slowly and carefully stroked the brush across the edges blurring out the imperfections.
Martha's gaze remained gentle and understanding as she peeled apples. “Well, you’ll find yourself soon."
Amara returned to her canvas with renewed inspiration. As she continued to paint, the room filled with the rhythmic melody of brush against canvas.
As the days passed, the days became shorter, and the frigid nights grew longer.
Sleep became evasive, and Amara would often find herself tangled in the sheets, her restless thoughts.
She yearned for the peaceful embrace of sleep but sleep was nowhere near.
The nightmares were frequent, and so were the haunting flashbacks with them.
Amara wondered if her past was as horrifying as those nightmares.
But she tried to feign ignorance. Whatever the past was, she couldn’t possibly change it, but she could change her present.
Now that she was getting better, the doctor advised the use of crutches. She was slowly getting back on her feet. Though she still felt ache in her legs, but she pushed herself move.
At this moment, Amara was in the kitchen clutching onto the counter as she breathed deeply. Martha stood on other side near the couch, looking at her with encouraging eyes and worried expressions.
Amara took a deep breath before letting go of the counter, she counted to three, before lifting her trembling leg and placing it on the ground. She took another breathless breath before she was pushing her feet against the floor, and taking unsteady but confident steps forward.
Martha couldn't contain her excitement as she watched Amara walk from the kitchen to the sofa on her own feet, without crutches, though the steps were slow and painful.
"Come on! Come on! Come on! YAY!!" Martha cheered, clapping her hands with enthusiasm. “I’m tired.” Amara groaned slipping down on the sofa.
Her face was red, and her breaths coming as pants.
Her legs aching but the pain was sweet and victorious.
Martha quickly had her a glass of water, and a bowl of fruits she decorated with chocolate syrup.
Martha grabbed the smaller bowl for her herself and sat next to Amara.
“Is Kaelith home?” Amara asked munching on the apples. She tried not to sound like she missed him. But Martha read through her.
She shook her head.
“No, Mr. Luca left earlier this morning.” Leaving early and coming back late. Amara wondered if she did something wrong for him to not show his face to her.
Amara sighed. What did it feel like he was ignoring her? Or was he seriously busy? It had been several days since she had breakfast with him. Sighing to herself, she tried not to think about him, but the more she tried, the more it became harder for her do so.
Finishing the fruits, she sat on the ground with Martha on the couch as the latter braided Amara’ s hair in French tails. Amara grabbed the remote and turned on the television.
“I feel bored in here,” Amara said flipping through channels. Martha sighed. This mansion was huge and with only two of them alone, it was lonelier than usual as the winter approach. The guards usually stay outdoors.
A sudden the thought crossed Martha’s head. “How about we go shopping?”
Amara stilled, and processed. Outside? Outside! She beamed with excitement turning around so sharply Martha was afraid if she broke her neck. Her eyes gleaming like child’s.
“We can?!” Amara gasped.
Martha shrugged her shoulders. “I mean, kind of. I also need to buy some groceries, what day?” Amara hesitated for a second before nodding with a wide smile. “Sounds fun.”
"Come on, let me help you." Amara grinned. Martha brought her bag from the kitchen and helped Amara to the car outside. The driver was a young man in his early twenties as he bowed respectfully.
Her heart pounded loudly at the sudden rush of adrenaline.
It was the first time she was going out after more than a week.
The car roared as the driver drove off towards the city.
For several minutes, the road was surrounding by thick forest, but as the fields started crossing, the view changed from green to tall buildings.
The city was an hour's drive by car. There were several awe-striking sights Amara was occupied with. Fancy cars and beautiful buildings. The moment they pulled up in front of the convenience store, Amara remained seated inside the car while Martha shopped. She promised they’d visit the ice cream parlor after this.
Amara was so excited that she couldn’t’ t contain herself from jumping up and down.
Unable to remain shut, she asked the driver.
“What is you name?” The driver hesitated. But when Amara gave him a eye smile, he melted.
“Kai, Mrs. Luca.”
“Call me Amara, I’ll feel much comfortable.” Amara smiled and Kai was awe-struck for a whole second. It was his first time seeing young mistress of the house, wife of Rafael Luca, and he realized all the things he heard about her did not do her justice.
She was much more beautiful than those rumors and kind also. Just like an Angel descended from heaven, so angelic and bewitching. Kai’s cheeks flushed as he realized he had been thinking inappropriately for his Master’s wife and averted his eyes.
Martha came back in a while. And the Kai drove them to the nearest ice cream parlor.
"Where are we?" Amara looked around with a curious gaze at the small entrance of the shop. The neon sign over the entrance was glowing with several rainbow-colored lights.
"You said you wanted ice cream." Martha chuckled staying close to Amara’s side as they both entered without the driver.
The sudden soft music blared in her ears, and several people crowded the area.
A large table and counter at one end while the other were filled with bakery goods.
The expensive and sweet aroma gripped her hard.
It was her first time visiting such a place.
"What do you want, child?" Martha asked, Amara twisted her mouth and scratched the back of her neck unsure of what she wanted. Chocolate? Strawberry?
"Vanilla..." Martha placed the order and both of them sat on the two-seated table. Amara liked how the atmosphere seemed. So calm and bustling.
"It’s nice in here." Amara looked around. Martha nodded.
"We can come back here again if you want.” Amara gasped dramatically placing her hand over her chest.
"We can?” Martha rolled her eyes.
"Of course, we can.” Sometimes Martha thought Amara was just a child in an adult’s body. Adorable and irresistibly cute. They spend half an hour in there, trying new ice creams and chatting.
Martha suddenly glanced at her watch.
“We need to hurry; I need to cook dinner for Mr. Luca.” Martha frowned.
"Dinner? Is he coming home early?" Now it was Amara’s turn to feign negligence.
Kaelith hadn't tried to talk to her since that moment.
She had barely seen him during meal times.
It wasn't like she wanted to see him; it was weird to not see him.
Did it make any sense? She flustered over her thoughts.
"Yeah, he said he will come soon today." Martha nodded. Amara pouted wanting spend to more time in here as her doe eyes glanced around for the last time before Martha helped her stand. “But don’t be sad, we’ll come again.”
As soon as both of them stepped out, the driver opened the door. But before Amara could sit, a chilling voice stopped her.
"Amara," she stopped shortly when she heard someone calling. Her heartbeat racing at the familiar tone. Turning around she met the dark grey eyes—cold and fuming. Amara wondered if she was imagining him. What was he doing here?
Kaelith represented the very devil that she usually sees in her nightmares as he took a step forward, and then another.
He stood there with a storm brewing in his gaze. His jaw clenched tightly as he took another step, the tension radiating off him. He had an aura of suppressed anger, and it was clear that he was anything but pleased to see Amara.
"Kaelith..." Amara's voice quivered as she whispered his name, her body trembling with a mix of fear and shock. Her gaze was fixed on Kaelith, and the sight of his dark, intense eyes made her heart race even faster.
What she couldn’t understand was why he was looking so disheveled with his hair messy and tie hanging loosely on his neck. The upper buttons of his shirt opened while his jaw ticked.