Page 64 of Burdens
“No, I still do,” she answered, still not taking the mug from me.
When she looked up at me with a puzzled look on her face, I asked, “Then what is it?” It was quiet between us for a moment as we both looked at each other, my eyes roaming her face, trying to read her.
She shook her head and finally grabbed it from my hand, her fingers brushing against mine in the process. She took a sip before muttering, “Thanks.”
After that, she grabbed a half of the breakfast sandwich she’d made and with her mug in hand, she headed for the courtyard. “Eat, we have to leave soon to meet with Nassim,” she instructed before pushing the iron door open and walking outside.
I hesitated on following her but knew that she’d most likely just walk back inside if I did. So instead, I poured myself some tea and rested against the edge of the counter to eat.
As I did, I caught a glimpse of her through the small window over the fridge. Amalia sat in one of the chairs around the mosaic outdoor table there, propping her foot onto the seat, something she always did when she ate. She took bite after bite of her sandwich, sipping her coffee every once in a while.
Watching her do something so mundane reminded me of the week we’d spent together at my apartment before everything changed and I ended up ruining the best thing in my life.
Recruits always got a week off in the middle of their training to rest before the more intense second part of their year. So a few days before they were set to leave, I’d pulled Amalia into my office to both steal a kiss and ask her if she’d want to stay behind with me.
I’d been contemplating asking her for a few weeks, but I’d been too nervous to—something that had never happened to me before. I’d kept telling myself that she might have a family she’d want to spend time with instead of me and I could’ve used thetime off to see my mother who’d been asking me to visit every time we spoke on the phone.
But I’d wanted to be selfish for once and have Amalia all to myself.
I’d been tired of the stolen kisses and lingering glances across crowded rooms. I’d wanted more. Wanted her in my space, in my bed, and just with me for longer than a few fleeting minutes before someone noticed we were both gone.
When she’d agreed, I’d never felt more relieved to hear a “yes” coming from someone’s lips.
She’d shown up on my doorstep on Sunday night and for the rest of our time together, I’d discover her, what she did and didn’t like, what made her tick, what made her laugh. I’d spent hours exploring every inch of her body and she’d done the same with mine.
It had been the most blissful week of my life and in that time, I’d realized I’d never really known what true happiness felt like until Amalia had come into my life.
I’d always felt like my heart couldn’t welcome the feeling, that it’d been wired in a way that all it could harbor was hollowness and occasional fleeting moments where I thought I should be happy but couldn’t feel it.
All of that had changed the moment she landed herself there and reengineered it in a way where Icouldexperience it.
When she smiled at me, I felt the warm embrace enveloping my skin. And with her laughter came the fluttering feeling in your chest when everything just seemed to fall into place.
Amalia had made me feel seen. She’d made me feel alive.
But it had been beyond just how she’d made me feel. I’d also started to be happy with who I was, despite my past. My mother had always told me that who I was wasn’t tied to my father and what he’d done to me, but I’d never truly believed it.
I’d always told myself that she was my mother, so of course she had to say that.
But the way Amalia had seen me, truly seen me, had made me realize what my mother had been trying to make me understand.
When Amalia had fallen asleep in my arms before that pivotal Saturday, the night where everything had completely changed, I’d stayed awake, my mind wandering about what-ifs.
The secrecy and sneaking around had been fun at first, but as I’d stared down at her in my arms, noting how peaceful she looked there and how at peaceI’dfelt having her against me, I’d known that Amalia wasn’t someone I was willing to live without.
Over the weeks, I’d fallen in love with her completely and intoxicatingly. She’d become my favorite person and place to be next to all wrapped into one. She left me breathless while simultaneously breathing life back into me.
I’d gone to sleep that night, dreaming of a future and hoping she’d wanted the same. Until a call woke me up the next morning and flipped my world upside down.
I never wanted what we had to end, but when the words mother, cancer, and dead kept ringing over and over in your ears, the only thing you wanted to do was find a way to make them stop.
I’d thought I’d get over it, that after a few days, the grief wouldn’t be so poignant and I’d be able to go back and tell her why I never came back with breakfast like I’d told her I would.
But the grief had swallowed me whole and drowned me until I found myself facing the edge of a cliff, wondering if having everything stop altogether would be easier than having to swim against the treacherous waters with no guarantee of making it to the other side.
It took me a long time to realize that Icoulddo this, that losing my safe haven wouldn’t be the end of me and that Iwouldbe able to see the other end, despite how hard it would be.
I’d done the work, I’d been ready to come back, but it had been too late. Amalia had already been gone and no matter how many times I’d tried to find her and reach out, I’d never been able to.
