Just a Matter of Time

Elisha

It's been a week since dinner with Amara and her family. She hasn't called much or bothered me, and I've found myself wondering if she was doing alright. She didn't seem herself that night, but maybe it was just the stress of her wedding weighing on her.

Tapping away at my desk in the hospital, I glanced at the clock. My shift was almost over, but I couldn't focus. The thought of her gnawed at the back of my mind. I opened my phone, staring at her contact card. Maybe I should call and check in?

I hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Amara was strong, independent—if something was wrong, surely she would've said something by now. But then again, there was that look in her eyes at dinner, the way her smile didn't quite reach the surface. I sighed, slipping my phone back into my pocket. Maybe later, I told myself, though the unease stayed with me.

The rest of my shift dragged on as I went through the motions, but Amara remained in the back of my thoughts. By the time I finished my rounds, the sun had long set. Still, I hadn't heard from her, and I hadn't made the call either.

As I clocked out, I thought about dialing her again, but exhaustion weighed me down. I'll call her tomorrow, I thought, pushing the hospital doors open into the cool night air. For now, all I wanted was to get home and rest.

When I finally reached my apartment, I noticed a familiar figure sitting outside my door. Amara, was sitting there with her arms wrapped around her knees, staring off into the distance.

I approached slowly, "Amara?" I called confused.

She looked up, her face a mix of frustration and relief. "Oh, look who finally decided to show up," she said with attitude. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."

I sarcastically responded, trying to ease the tension. "Forgot about you?"

She rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "I've been locked out of my apartment for hours, my phone's dead, and I had to wait here because someone was too busy saving lives or whatever."

I raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Wow, I didn't realize my job was an inconvenience."

"Don't make me more mad," she said, crossing her arms.

I unlocked the door and motioned for her to come inside. "Alright, alright. I apologize that your royal highness has been left out in the cold."

Amara shook her head, chuckling despite her irritation. "You know, sometimes I wonder how you managed to turn out to be so obnoxious."

I guided her inside, and she immediately rushed over to the nearest outlet, pulling out my charger and plugging her phone in with a sense of urgency.

"So," I said, trying to break the ice as I watched her fidget with her phone, "how exactly did you get locked out?"

Amara looked up, her face momentarily betraying a hint of discomfort. "Oh, just a series of unfortunate events. I came home, found the door locked, and realized I'd left my keys inside."

"Why didn't you go downstairs for help?"  I said, noting that she seemed to be avoiding eye contact.

She shrugged, trying to sound casual. "I didn't think to. I guess I was just... caught off guard."

I could tell there was something off about her response. "You seem a bit on edge. Is there something you're not telling me?"

She hesitated, then let out a sigh. "It's just been a rough week, okay? Between dealing with the lockout and everything else going on, I didn't know where to turn."

I could see that there was more to it, but I decided not to push too hard. "Alright," I muttered, trying to keep my cool.

"I'm quite hungry. What do you have?" she asked, standing up quickly and rushing to my kitchen before I could respond.

I groaned, following her as she started opening cabinets and poking around. "It's not much," she shouted, her head practically buried in my fridge.

I walked over and gently closed the fridge door, cutting off her search. "Can we maybe not turn this into you looking through my fridge?"

She gave me an innocent look, like she hadn't just ransacked half my kitchen. "What? I'm hungry, Elisha."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Alright, I get that. But can you just... stop tearing through my place for five minutes?"

"Fine, fine," she muttered, backing away from the fridge. But instead of sitting down, she wandered into the hallway, her eyes landing on my half-open bedroom door.

Before I could stop her, she dashed inside. "Amara!" I groaned, chasing after her.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she reached my nightstand. Her eyes widened, and I knew instantly what she'd found. Sitting there, framed and untouched, was an old photo of us from our high school graduation—the two of us grinning, arms around each other, looking like we didn't have a care in the world.

"Oh my God," she whispered, picking up the picture. "You still have this?"

I felt my face flush with embarrassment. "It's not— I just never got around to putting it away."

She turned to me with a sly smile. "Uh-huh. Sure. You keep a photo of us on your nightstand and it's 'just because you never got around to it?'"

I scratched the back of my head, struggling to come up with a good excuse. "Look, it's not a big deal. It's just a picture."

Amara, clearly amused, sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding the photo. "It's kind of sweet, you know. You, keeping memories like this."

I groaned, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "Alright, can we please move on from this? I don't want to get all sentimental over some old photo."

But she wasn't letting it go. "So, you miss the good ol' days, huh? When things were simpler?" She looked at me with those eyes, the ones that always saw right through me.

"Amara, stop," I said, my voice sharper than I intended.

Her smile faded, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something—maybe hurt, maybe regret—but she quickly masked it with her usual sarcasm. "Can't a girl be curious?"

"Curious about what? My fridge? My old photos?" I crossed my arms, frustrated.

"I'm hungry. Let's head to store for dinner" she demanded pushing past me as she grabbed my car keys and walked out.