CHAPTER XXIII

CHAPTER XXIII

Amara had thought that the busyness of the day had done the trick, until Theo had shown up. The minute she was home, too exhausted to cook or do anything other than plonk herself in front of the TV with a show that she wasn’t really watching, her thoughts started to intrude on her again.

Why had Theo shown up today of all days? Had he seen her last night? What had Kiaria said to Alice? Would she lose her job even though she worked so hard today? God, had Alice known today? Had John said more had happened than it actually had?

She was starting to get an onset of a headache that she undoubtedly deserved, but her tastebuds craved more than water. So Amara wandered into the kitchen. She found an unopened, dusty bottle of wine that had been sitting at the back of the liquor cabinet no one in the house really used and grabbed the corkscrew. She twisted and pulled until she heard that satisfying ‘pop’ and the sweet sound of the first glug as the wine began to fill the glass. She drank it steadily, a slight dribble of red liquid escaping out the corner of her mouth in her haste, until the pangs of hunger disappeared and her head feltwoozy.

At least those damn intrusive thoughts weren’t bothering her anymore. She went to refill her glass and settled in to watch whatever mind-numbing thing was on the screen. As long as it would keep her thoughts off how good Theo had looked, smelled, felt ... that look of pity in his eyes that said he cared. She’d beenfine.

One glass turned into another, and another.

By midnight, two bottles of wine and half a bottle of whisky down, the headache had returned. Rising unsteadily to her feet, she stumbled into the small bathroom across the hallway. Opening the medicine cabinet hard enough that it thwacked her in the forehead, she stumbled backwards.

“Ow.” She rubbed at the place that was sure to bruise.

Blinking her eyes open, she began to scrounge around, looking for anything to take the edge off a headache that had just got infinitely worse.

“Paracetamol will do the trick.” She hiccupped and murmured to herself.

That was the last thing she remembered before waking up in the bright lights of a hospitalbed.

She’d never been in a hospital before, but this one didn’t seem like the ones she’d seen on TV. For starters, it seemed to be a private room, with curtains on the window to her left and against the window at the foot of her bed. There was also a chest of drawers with a vase full of sunflowers at the foot of her bed. The room smelt nice, not at all like disinfectant. The only reason she knew she was in a hospital of any kind was because she was in a gown with a plastic tag around her wrist noting her full name and the time she had been checked in: 1 a.m.

Holding the hand that was attached to that braceleted wrist was a dishevelled Theo, whose bloodshot eyes said he hadn’t slept at all. Not that Amara felt like she’d slept. Her head was heavy and groggy, her throat drier than sandpaper. Her stomach and ribs felt bruised. She felt more like she’d been beaten up rather than taken care of.

“Wh—” Amara tried to clear her throat and felt like shark skin was shredding her vocal cords. Theo lifted an ice chip to her lips, which she gratefully accepted, letting the cold water soothe her, before trying again. “Whathappened?”

Theo’s eyes glanced back down. He couldn’t even look at her.

“I know you said to not come back, but I wasn’t going to abandon you when I’d emotionally ambushed you like that. That’s on me. All this is on me. You hearme?”

“What are you talkingabout?”

His calloused thumb began stroking her own and it reminded her of hours earlier, in the café, still as equally soothing in gesture as it was irritating in texture.

“When I came by, the door was unlocked. When there was no answer, I was worried. And when I found you in the bathroom barely breathing ... I had no choice but to call the ambulance. They brought you here, pumped your stomach and are currently rehydrating you.” Theo pointed with his free hand to the IV drip on the other side of Amara’s bed that she hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh God,” Amara hung her head and tried to pull back her hand to hide her face in shame but Theo wasn’t letting go.

“It’s on me, my love, not you. Never you. I should have never left you to do thisalone.”

Amara didn’t understand what he meant, her brain still foggy. She continued to refuse to look at him until he cupped the side of her head in one of those huge hands and stroked her hair.

“It was my fault. I won’t abandon you again, ever.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she whispered as she turned her head away and fell back into a dreamless sleep.