Page 60 of Burdens
The stitching on the sides was frayed, the surface had various dark spots, and the glint of a spring piercing the surface showed how much this bed had been worn down with time. I’d slept on concrete floors for the last three weeks. The living room cushions would do just fine.
I found the small brass tap mounted on the wall and made my way over. There was a large blue bucket with a small pink cup inside underneath it. I opened the tap and rinsed both items before filling the bucket. The water was cold, but I didn’t have the patience to sit and wait for water to boil so I could add it to it.
While it was filling, I opened the small bin a few steps away and found towels, a bar of soap, and a few small washcloths. Walking back, I shut the water off, removed all my clothes, discarding them to the side to wash later, and grabbed a handful of water with the pink cup.
I poured the water over my head and the icy temperature sent a shockwave of shivers down my spine, amplified by the whipping wind of the night air.
Fuck, this is cold.
I kept going, focusing my attention on relishing the feel of the water on my skin after weeks without and not how cold it was. I quickly showered, using the bar of soap to wash both my hair and my skin.
Once I’d finished, I tied a towel around my waist and proceeded to wash my clothes before hanging them on one of the chairs around the table.
I doubted there was a change of clothes inside, so I just had to hope that the morning heat would dry them up by the time I woke up. I grabbed another towel from the bin and walked back inside, dried my upper body with it and locked the door behind me.
The lights were now turned off and Amalia had shut the bedroom door. I ran the towel over my head as I padded over to it. I stood in front of it and contemplated whether I should knock. She might be asleep, but I had to try again.
So after softly knocking on the door, I quietly called out her name, “Amalia? Are you up?”
No answers.
I rapped my knuckles on the wooden door again and listened for movement on the other side, with no luck. With a resigned sigh, I walked back to the living room to find that she’d left a flat bed sheet on one of the cushions.
The gesture added an ounce of hope into the well I’d been cultivating since the day I’d left.
After I finished drying myself off, I placed a towel over one of the pillows and wrapped myself into the plaid orange sheet, the other towel still wrapped around my waist.
Then I closed my eyes, hoping the accumulated exhaustion of the past few weeks would take over and lull me into a deep sleep.
But all I kept thinking about was Amalia.
CHAPTER 16
AMALIA (PRESENT)
God,he’s relentless.
One thing about him definitely hadn’t changed over the years and it was his sheer determination to get what he wanted once he’d set his mind to it.
I’d used to love that about him, but now I resented it.
I’d been trying to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, Noah’s face flashed in my mind, torturing me just a little more. And it didn’t help when his voice drifted to my ears again as he stood on the other side of the closed door.
After a fleeting pause, he finally relented, his steps drifting farther away from the door. The sound of fabric rustling briefly filled the air until it was quiet again.
I waited with bated breath, listening for signs of him coming back, but he didn’t.
A wave of conflicting emotions washed over me as a burning fire lanced my chest. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. I’d done my best not to react when the words “Omar Barrera’s my father”left his lips, but his earlier confession still made my stomach churn and my head feel light.
At first, I’d thought I must have misheard for a second time in one night because surely the man I’d fallen in love with all those years ago didn’t lie to me.
Surelythe man I loved—hadloved, I reminded myself—didn’t hide from me who he was even after he’d spent weeks learning everything about me, after I’d revealed all my scars to him, something I’d never done before.
I had shattered the walls I’d built around me my entire life to let him in and in return I’d been a fool and fallen head over heels with a lie, not even seeing it when I’d literally been trained to detect them.
With the truth now displayed in front of me, pieces of past conversations we’d had about his family were finally falling into place.
He’d been guarded when topics of our families were brought up, but he’d always spoken freely of his mother and how close they were. But I did remember how he’d immediately grown quieter at the mention of his father.
