Having lost the man she loved to the cold clutches of suicide, Amara's impulsive decision to join him leads her to accept the marriage proposal of a mysterious stranger she shares a drink with at a bar.
Xelan's weddings were an awful affair, with ea...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"You know, you don't need to keep watching me," Amara drawled, serving her scrambled eggs into a plate as she turned to face Daya who sat by the island, eagerly waiting for the meal Amara had prepared. She set everything on two plates, the eggs, bacon and grits, setting one plate before Daya.
"Who knows when you are going to up and run to God knows where?" she replied, inhaling the aroma before taking a bite. "God, I missed this," she moaned.
Amara rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile at Daya's reaction. It always pleased her to see the lady's glee at eating her food. "I didn't run off. I told Carlos where I was going."
Daya nodded, still not listening to what she had to say. "Then you didn't call us for an entire week. And you went and got tattoos. That's enough to warrant my reaction."
The mention of Amara's souvenir from her time spent in Sythmore made her withdraw her left hand in an unconscious effort to hide from her. "I told you, it was in the spur of the moment."
The girl took another bite of her food, shaking her fork at her. "Exactly, you can't be trusted with making clear decisions. Today, it's getting a tattoo when you have a fear of needles. The next day, you'll sell your shop, cut your hair and join a cult," she argued, a scowl plastered on her face.
Amara sighed, taking a bite out of her food. It had already been a month since she returned from her trip to 'Nevada', but Daya seemed determined to make sure she never did something so impulsive again. Granted, it was tiring but she couldn't fault the girl. Daya wasn't one for scares like that, and it was cruel of her to have disappeared after everything that had happened without so much of a text to reassure them that she was safe. If placed in that situation, Amara wasn't sure she would be any better. She sought to change the conversation, eager to get Daya's mind off it.
"Speaking of my hair, I can't be late for the hair appointment I booked."
Daya swallowed slowly, her eyes widening. "I was joking about cutting your hair."
"I'm not cutting my hair. I'm getting my hair done," Amara answered, patting her bonnet holding her hair that had been left alone for two months. She had spent hours last week, trying to figure out what she wanted to do with it, oddly thrilled with the idea of it. The last she had been hard-pressed to style her hair had been right before her wedding. Hastily loosened due to her inability to remind herself that she had been jilted on her wedding day. Her hand tightened on her fork.
Baby steps, Amara, baby steps.
She could take it one at a time, starting with her hair. Daya sighed in relief.
"Thank God, you're still here." Her face turned serious on her next words. "Have you considered what Carlos told you about..."
The slight yet obvious stiffening in Amara's posture made Daya trail off.
