CHAPTER 22
A few days passed, and Amara started indulging herself in household work.
Waking up before Rafael and making breakfast for him.
It all came naturally to her—preparing his morning coffee, ironing his clothes, arranging his lunch, preparing dinner, waiting for him in the living room of their giant apartment, and then sleeping—on different beds of course.
She was glad Rafael agreed to let her have a room to herself.
She barely got time to paint, and she was glad because every time she grabbed the brush, her hands would shake and she wouldn’t know what she’d draw. All the while, pale blue eyes haunt her now and then.
Amara moved between the kitchen counters, the clinking of utensils and the sizzling sounds from the stove pulling her out of her thoughts.
The enticing aroma of pasta began to envelop the living room, but her mind was elsewhere— lost in the abyss of memories that seemed to intertwine with the scents reminding her of the time she lived with Kaelith.
It had only been a week, and she missed him already.
As she sliced through vegetables, she pondered what he must be doing now. The pot simmered on the stove, the sauce boiling with warmth, yet Amara's heart felt a subtle chill.
She found herself whisked away with Kaelith’s thoughts—his eyes, the shared glances, the warmth of his presence. It was a bittersweet reverie that wrapped around her like a delicate mist, both comforting and haunting.
As the scent intensified, so did the echoes of memories. Amara's hands moved mechanically, guided by muscle memory, while her mind danced between past and present. The clatter of pots and pans became a dull symphony.
After an hour, she was done with pasta and just needed to assemble them on the dining table. Wiping her hands with the cloth, she grabbed the water bottle and sipped on the water while moving around to put the dishes in the dishwasher.
The serene atmosphere moved with her as she placed the water bottle in the refrigerator and started cleaning the counter, hoping this would take her mind off things.
When she was done, she looked at the time. 8:45 pm.
She frowned. Rafael usually comes by eight but he was forty-five minutes late today. He must be busy with work thinking about how he has been sleeping late for the last two or three days. He seemed stressed and bothered about something.
Amara decided to dust the couch and her room a bit. She hadn’t had time to assemble her clothes ever since she arrived in the apartment.
Her light blue floor-length chiffon dress flowed with her movements as she walked barefoot to the room. She opened the door as she walked in.
The room exuded a soft ambience just like the first time, with muted hues and gentle lighting that created an inviting serenity.
Plush, neutral-toned furnishings adorned the space with wall mirrors and hangings on the wall.
The curtains, billowed softly in the breeze, making her remember she needed to close the windows before sleeping.
Touches of soft textures, from velvety throw pillows to a cozy rug underfoot, added tactile comfort. It was a heaven.
But she couldn’t help but compare it to her room in Kaelith’s mansion.
This room was half the room she had in Kaelith’s mansion, she wasn’t choosy, but she missed that room too. The space she started to make hers. The soft scent that always lingered there — strawberries and peonies that Kaelith made sure to bring her every day even if he was busy.
She missed all that. Her heart squeezed bittersweetly as she grabbed her suitcases that were placed behind the door and with great difficulty, she placed them on the bed. “They’ re so heavy.” She complained huffing and puffing while opening them.
Her clothes were neatly folded; with several other items she didn’t think belonged to her. Frowning she pulled them out slowly and inspected them one by one.
She realized that most of them were the new dresses Kaelith got for her that she hadn’t worn yet. Pouting she placed them on the side. She was upset with him and angry too.
“I do not want these dresses… I just want…” she stilled. Want what? What did she want? Shaking her head, she grabbed the hangers from the closet and started assembling them. Many dresses caught her eye and she decided to wear them when she visited a park and grocery store.
Rafael still hadn’t taken her out yet and Amara was getting bored in the apartment. She made a mental note to ask him to take her out this Sunday. The weather was good and she wanted to explore the area.
She was setting her clothes in the closet when her eyes landed on the ruffled beige dress—the one she wore that day when Kaelith caught her dancing in the room. Her heart instantly burst into flames as her cheeks flared crimson.
The delicate blush painted the apples of her cheekbones as she fondly pressed the dress closer to her chest. The memory played like a cherished vignette in her mind—the soft notes of music, the subtle twirls, and the feeling of his heavy gaze that she still could feel as a chill ran down her spine.
Her heart fluttered at the vague memories of Kaelith' teasing smirk, a blend of amusement and affection, as he watched her dance like an Angel dancing among the flowers.
And almost instantly, her smile dropped and she pushed the dress farther into the closet out of her reach.
Huffing she closed the door of the wardrobe pressed her back against it and looked up at the ceiling.
Am I that bad? Am I that unpleasant that he didn’t even bother to say goodbye?
Amara was mad at him but more than that she was disappointed that he didn’t even gaze at her once when she left. It felt like she was looking at a different person, not the man who was always gentle with her.
She stayed like that for another moment and then let out a sigh.
So what if he didn’t say goodbye, the world was still revolving. Then why she was still hoping— no—then why was she still upset with him? She didn’t have any right to be mad at him.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself away from the wardrobe tidied the bed and changed the sheets and pillows. Her mind was occupied as her eyes moved to the empty vase beside her bed.
She wished there were peonies—what the hell, Amara?!
She scolded herself averted her eyes and moved out to the living area. She tried to keep herself busy trying hard not to think about anything that could remind her of Kaelith.
Looking at the clock, she realized it was past nine-thirty. Amara sighed and placed the food in the microwave. She’d heat it once Rafael arrived.
After making sure the apartment was clean and smelling nice, she fixed herself a cup of warm chocolate milk.
She stood by the window, the soft glow of the moon casting a gentle glow on the room.
The quiet stillness around her echoed the hollowness she felt within.
As her fingertips traced the outline of the mug, a subtle ache settled in her chest.
She sighed — the yearning for Kaelith enveloping her like a delicate veil. Memories played in her mind like a cherished melody, everything reminding her of him.
The empty spaces seemed to echo his name, and the silence held the weight of unspoken words.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she sighed once again as she gazed out the window.
Deep in her thoughts, she wondered what was she even doing with her life.
Were the moments she was living in considered as life even?
She should be happy, with a husband like Rafael who worshipped the path she walked on, with everything she needed—clothes, makeup, food, everything—then why did she feel like she had nothing? Why did this feel like she was just trying to…. survive and not live?