Chapter 7: Fading Lines
1247 Words
Chapter 7: Fading Lines
Rafael stood in the doorway like he had been pulled there by the weight of something unsaid. Amara stepped back, unsure, heart pounding. The rainwater from his clothes soaked into the welcome mat, his hair clinging to his forehead. His jaw was tight, but his eyes—his eyes looked as if he’d finally decided to stop hiding.
He held out the notebook. "I saw your notebook on the street, you probably dropped them." Rafael lied.
Amara took it slowly. “Thank you. I thought I left it at Caleb's house.”
"You really go there frequently, even in an hour's drive?"
"Yes, I need to take care of my Fiancé."
Rafael looked down, before, it was him whom she had always talked about. It hurts him knowing she's with another man.
“I read the last part,” he admitted. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just… saw my name.”
Her breath caught. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I know,” he said. “But I’m glad I did.”
She looked at him then—really looked. His dark eyes weren’t cold anymore. They were tired. Raw. Like he’d been carrying something too heavy, for too long.
"Thanks for returning it to me, maybe you should go." Amara was about to close the door but Rafael held the doorknob, stopping it.
"Do you like him?" he asked.
"Who? Caleb? why did you ask?"
"I was wondering, did he like you? did he treats you well?" he asked again.
Amara looked at her notebook.
"Why do you need to write him letters? when you can just tell him?" Rafael said.
"He can't respond, he's in coma."
Rafael stunned, he didn't know that Amara was engaged to a man who is in coma.
"It was a long story, but you should go home, Rafael."
“I never wanted to hurt you, Amara,” he said.
“But you did,” she whispered.
He looked away. “I was stupid. I thought… I thought Ysabel saw me. And you were always just… this light I didn’t know how to touch.”
She stepped back, arms tightening around herself. “And now that I’m promised to someone else, I’m suddenly visible?”
“No,” Rafael said quickly. “It’s not like that. I’ve always seen you. I just didn’t think I deserved to.”
Why is he saying all this now? Amara thought. Why now, when everything is already a mess?
The silence between them stretched.
“I need time,” Amara said finally. “Everything’s too tangled.”
He nodded. “I get it. I just… needed to say it. Just so you know, I am here if ever you want to run away from your wedding with a man in bed.”
He turned and left. The rain swallowed him again.
The next day, Amara visited the Ramos home. Elena greeted her with a warm smile and ushered her inside with a motherly hand on her back.
“I was hoping we could talk,” Elena said, settling beside her with a cup of tea.
“Of course,” Amara replied, her voice soft.
Elena stirred her tea slowly. “I know this might feel sudden, but… I’d like for the wedding to happen in three months.”
Amara blinked. “Three months?”
“Yes. It would give us time to prepare, and once you’re married, you can move in. It’s easier for the doctors to consult you as his legal wife. And you’ll be here to care for him. Caleb would want that.”
Three months. That’s barely enough time to breathe, Amara thought, her mind reeling.
She smiled faintly and nodded, not trusting her voice.
Jenny stood quietly in the hallway, just out of sight, her expression unreadable. Her fingers clenched the banister.
At work, Amara’s eyes were hollow. She stared at her screen, tapping keys with no real purpose. The weight of everything was pressing hard.
During lunch break, Trixie nudged her.
“You okay?”
Amara didn’t respond.
“You need to get out of your head,” Trixie said. “Come out tonight. A couple drinks. Let’s be sad girls in a bar together.”
Amara gave a small, tired smile. “Why not.”
That night, neon lights danced along the pavement outside a tucked-away bar downtown. The warm buzz of laughter and music softened the ache in Amara’s chest. She and Trixie sat at the bar, their third shot lined up.
“To terrible decisions,” Trixie grinned.
“To barely surviving them,” Amara echoed, knocking hers back.
Amara was lighter now. Not happy, but less weighed down.
“You know,” she said, voice a little slurred, “I used to think I’d marry Rafael.”
“Girl, you’re not the only one,” Trixie said with a smirk.
“I mean—he was always there. Right next door. I used to imagine our lives… together. The balcony conversations, the lazy mornings. And now?” Amara chuckled bitterly. “Now I’m marrying a man in a coma.”
“You don’t have to,” Trixie said gently.
“I do. For my mom. For Elena. For everyone but me.”
“You sure you’re not just afraid to be selfish?”
Amara didn’t answer. She stood, wobbling slightly. “Bathroom.”
Trixie nodded. “I’ll order more drinks!”
Amara made her way through the crowd, her body swaying slightly. The lights blurred and shifted. As she rounded a corner near the restrooms, she bumped into someone.
“Whoa—careful.”
She looked up. “Jiro?”
Jiro steadied her. “Amara? You okay?”
“Fine. Just… tequila and disappointment.”
He frowned. “Where’s Rafael?”
She blinked. “Why would he be here?”
Jiro took out his phone. “Stay right here.”
Twenty minutes later, Rafael pulled up outside. He stormed in, his eyes scanning the dim bar until they landed on her. Amara was slouched beside Trixie, head leaning on her friend’s shoulder.
“She’s had a night,” Trixie said.
“I’ll take her home.”
"Why would you? She's engaged with another man, Rafael!"
"I know, but I need to at least keep her safe tonight. I'll drive her home since we're neighbors."
Trixie nodded. “She might say things. Just… be gentle.”
Rafael helped Amara up. She leaned heavily on him, murmuring something incoherent.
In the car, silence filled the space. Rain began to tap softly on the windshield.
Amara stirred. “You know…”
Rafael glanced at her. “What is it?”
“You hurt me so much… by liking my best friend…” she mumbled.
His hands tightened on the wheel.
“…because I love you,” she whispered. “But I also love her.”
Rafael looked at her, stunned. Her eyes were half-lidded, tears pooling at the edges.
“I loved her first,” she said. “Like a sister. But she got you. And I lost both.”
She slumped sideways, asleep.
Rafael drove in silence, her words repeating like echoes through his mind. He glanced at her again. Her head rested gently against the window, breath fogging the glass.
What have I done? he thought.
The road stretched ahead, wet and glistening, but all he could see was her. And the pieces of her heart he’d helped break.
- Writer
