Chapter 164: Chapter 164
Amara shifted beneath the sheets, her body protesting about the warmth she was about to lose. She tried to roll away, but Elias’s arm was anchored firmly around her waist. His chest was pressed against her naked back, steady and solid, with his breath ghosting over the nape of her neck.
"Where do you think you’re going?" his voice was husky, and still thick with sleep.
She stilled, her lips pressing into a thin line. She could feel the strength in his hold, and the way his arm fit so easily around her, keeping her in place.
And damn it. His cologne lingered on her skin, soft and familiar, like it had sunk into her last night. She hated that she loved it.
"It’s morning," she murmured, her tone flat, anf neutral. "I need to get up."
His hold tightened slightly, pulling her closer instead of letting go. "Just a little longer," he said, his lips brushing against her hair. There was no demand in his voice. Just a quiet plea that settled too easily against her defenses.
Amara exhaled sharply, her fingers twitching against the sheets. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to melt into him like last night hadn’t happened, or like his confession hadn’t cracked something inside her.
"I need to make a call," she said, sharper this time, as if words could build the walls she desperately needed. Her hand slid down to his, prying his arm off her bare waist with deliberate force.
Elias let her, though his hand lingered a second longer than it should have before he finally released her. She could feel his eyes on her back as she sat up, pulling the sheet around her bare skin like armor.
He didn’t reach for her again. Instead, he leaned onto his elbow, watching her with a softness that only made her chest feel heavier. "You’re always running," he said quietly.
Amara’s jaw tightened. She refused to look at him. "I’m not running. I just need to make a call."
She stood, the cool air brushing over her as she moved toward her phone. Her back was rigid, her silence calculated. But even as she scrolled through her screen with stiff fingers, the ghost of his arm around her waist lingered, and she hated that she missed the weight of it already.
She walked out of the room, and stepped onto the balcony. She closed the door behind her, and stood still for a moment, accepting the after rain wind.
Then, she took in a deep breath, and dialed her mom.
The phone rang just twice, before her mum picked up.
"Mom," she called the moment the lone connected, blinking to hold back her tears. "Mom."
"What is it, baby?"
"Mom," she whispered again, clutching the phone tighter. Her voice was shaking, too close to breaking. "Mom, I... I think I fell in love with someone. And I don’t know what to do with it. It feels like too much."
There was silence on the other end. Then her mother’s voice came, soft but steady. "Okay, sweetheart." Her mother replied softly, cautiously, giving her just enough space to decide to share more.
Amara swallowed. "Don’t talk to me as your daughter right now. Talk to me as a client sitting across from you in a room. Tell me... tell me what you’d tell a client who feels exactly the way I’m about to tell you." She clenched and unbleached her fist, tapping her feet lightly on the floor, in need of more air.
"Alright, baby," her mother replied, sitting up at the other end. "Alright, baby, speak to me. You’re in love with someone, yes. Now, tell me how it makes you feel."
Amara pressed a palm to her chest, her breath uneven. "It feels loud. And also consuming. Like it’s wrapping itself around me whether I want it or not. I can’t breathe sometimes when he’s near."
Her mother’s tone stayed gentle. "Does it feel safe, Amara?"
A bitter laugh slipped out before she could stop it. "No. Its not safe. That’s the problem. It feels... dangerous. He’s dangerous. He doesn’t back down, he doesn’t let go. And when I expect him to finally leave, he stays. He stays, and it... it terrifies me."
Her throat closed, and she swiped at the sudden tears pooling in her eyes. "Mom, I don’t know what to do with someone who doesn’t give up on me. I’m not used to it."
Her mother didn’t rush her. She asked instead, "And what part of that terrifies you more? The fact that he won’t leave, or the fact that you don’t want him to?"
Amara’s lips parted. The tears slid faster now. "Both," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Mom, both." She wiped her tears with the back of her palm, and swallowed.
Her mother’s words softened, but carried weight. "Baby, sometimes love doesn’t come dressed in calm. Sometimes it comes like a storm. It comes loud, insistent, and impossible to ignore. But the storm isn’t always here to destroy you. Sometimes it’s here to tear down the walls you’ve built too high."
Amara pressed her knuckles against her mouth, fighting sobs. "What if I take this as more than what it should be, and it turns into a cage?" she asked, her words shaking with fear. "What if it’s just... a hallucination? What if I bare myself to him, tell him things I’ve never told anyone, and end up regretting it? Cause when I fight him, he still tells me I was brave."
Her mother was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke again, it was with aching gentleness. "Then you’ll know you dared. You’ll know you lived instead of hiding. Regret doesn’t come from loving, Amara. It comes from silencing yourself before you even try."
Her tears blurred everything. She wiped them furiously, shaking her head. "I don’t know, Mom. I don’t know."
Her mother’s voice lowered to almost a whisper. "Then don’t rush to know. Sit with what’s true right now. This man frightens you because he doesn’t let go. Because he mirrors parts of you you’ve buried. And maybe, just maybe... you’re afraid that this time, you won’t be the one to walk away."
Amara’s hand shook against her face. Her chest felt cracked open. Her mother words pushed her inside like waves rocking a ship.
Her mother gave her one last soft question, the one that pierced deepest. "Sweetheart... are you afraid of him? Or are you afraid of how much of yourself you’ll find if you stop fighting him?"
Amara broke then, covering her face with both hands as the sob finally tore out of her chest.