“You’re the smartest young woman I know, Amara. And all those things you think I gave up, I didn’t give them up. I just replaced them with something that was far more important—much too invaluable to me—and that has always been you. You’ll see when you have your own kids one day.” She paused to dry her eyes and sniffle back the tears that wouldn’t stop coming. “When you have a child, you learn what love really is, and that all those sacrifices you make for them aren’t sacrifices at all—they’re blessings in disguise. You were always enough for me. Your father was always enough for me. Our life was enough for me. And the house, the cars, the extras—I would have given all of it up to keep you out of danger and your father from his… afflictions.”
“Yet you want me to have all these extra things that I really don’t need,” Amara argued quietly.
“Please promise me that you’ll try. That you’ll at least take the heirlooms and some money, and the goddamn papers out of that safe. Please, Amara. For your future, your children, and your life.”
What was one last promise? In that moment, Amara would have given her mother anything she would have asked for.
“I promise,” she whispered, and her mother squeezed her hand. There was a knock on the door shortly after, and Anna’s brother, Vlady, walked in looking like he hadn’t slept in days. He was a short man—short and thin—but every time Amara saw him lately, he looked ill. His too-short, brown shirt hung loosely from his shoulders, and his cream pants looked like they were borrowed.
“I got here as fast as I could,” he said, strolling toward the bed.
“You’re fine,” Anna said. “I was waiting for you.”
“Please don’t say that,” Vlady said in a choked sob.
Amara looked between them for a moment. “I’m going to get coffee. You want, Uncle V?” When he shook his head to decline, Amara walked out toward the visitor’s area. Her father was in the hallway, headed toward her mother’s room. He looked terrible, his face bruised and swollen. His clothes were in disarray, and Amara wondered if it had been Colin’s doing or if her uncle Vlady had gotten to him as well. She didn’t want him there. She didn’t want to look at him or acknowledge him. The only thing she wanted to do was spit in his face, just as he’d done to her earlier. Old wounds surfaced as she looked at him, and she felt nothing but disgust. Amara thought of her mother—of her words and the condition she was in—and took a breath, closing the distance to her father. Colin stood from where he’d been seated along the wall, his large frame looking like an arch angel as he walked toward her.
“If you want to see her,” Amara said quietly to her father, “… you can. I’ll tell Vlady not to cause trouble.” She noticed the deflated breath he took, and the way his shoulders shook as he covered his face with his hands. For a moment, she wanted to reach out to him—to console the man who’d once comforted her. But the moment was fleeting. The bad memories replaced the good ones a long time ago.
She stood off to the side, thankful Colin had made his way to her by the time her father brushed past her and went down the hall to see her mother.
“How’s she doing?” Colin asked, escorting her to the waiting area. He sat down and pulled her to his lap, cradling her like a child.
“Not good,” she whispered as she blinked back tears. “I just… I mean, I’ve had so much time to prepare, you know?” Her voice broke.
“But it’s still hard,” Colin offered, stroking her hair and pulling her face to his neck. “I wish I could help.”
“You help too much,” she said, shaking her head against him. Colin chuckled lightly.
“Only when I can and when I want to.” He lifted his head so that she could look at him. “Always when it comes to you.”
Amara felt his words, but was too defeated to react to them, so she looked away. “She’s my constant. She’s the only person who’s never judged me.”
“What am I?” he asked, the tips of his fingers smoothing the tears on her cheeks. “I’m always here. I won’t judge you. I’m sorry that I ever did.”
She pushed herself against him and nodded slowly. “I have to go back in.”
“I’ll be here,” he said, holding her face when she tried to look away. “I’ll be here,” he repeated and kissed the bridge of her nose.
Amara stood and walked back over to the room. Vlady knelt on the floor in front of the room, his head buried between his legs.
“I don’t know what we’ll do without her,” he cried into his lap. “What will we do?”
She had no answers to that, no words of consolation to offer. Amara was the one losing a mother, and as much as Vlady thought of Anna as his mother, she wasn’t. Amara stood there a moment longer, staring at the man who’d helped her when she decided she wanted to go to the city for school and convinced her parents to let her work for him. She bowed her head and prayed they would all find peace once this was over, and then she turned and opened the door. Amara was quiet as she walked in, not letting the door make a sound as it closed behind her. She stood beside it as her father openly wept as he clutched her mother’s arm. It was something she didn’t understand, and wouldn’t for years to come. How somebody can claim they love another unconditionally and then betray them later? But if Anna held a grudge, she didn’t show it. She seemed glad to have Amir there despite the wrong he’d done, and Amara wasn’t going to intervene—not today. She stayed silent and listened to him talk about their life together, the way they met when they were just kids, the tiny shack they lived in, how he would have done anything just to see her smile. Amara wanted to yell at him, but the smile on her mother’s face was just…so sweet.
Tears formed in Amara’s eyes as she watched that smile she’d probably never see again. That thought hurt the most.
“Amara, come,” her mother called. Despite her reservations, Amara walked to the bed and stood on the opposite side of her father. “You look so beautiful,” she said as she touched Amara’s dress.
“Thank you.”
“Were you in the same gala as your father?” she asked, her voice weak and rough. A part of Amara figured Anna knew the answer to the question, but she played along anyway.
“Yes,” she said, looking at her mother’s frail hand. She couldn’t bear to look at anything else.
“I’ve done things, horrible things,” Amir said, his voice gruff. “Neither of you have to forgive me. I’ve…” He shook his head, pressing it on the bed. “I’m so sorry.”
Anna patted him on the top of his head, stroking his silky black hair as she comforted him. Amara wasn’t inclined to forgive him just yet, if at all, so she stayed silent. Vlady walked in shortly after and gave them a distasteful look, which Amara knew was aimed at Amir. Vlady kept his mouth shut as he walked over to Amara and placed his arm over her shoulder.
“My family,” Anna said in a whisper. She kept fighting the oxygen mask on her face, trying to readjust it so that she could speak, though her voice was hoarse and worn down. “This is how everybody should go, surrounded by those who care about them most. I know you’re sad, but please, be happy, I will not suffer, and I’ll be with you in spirit.” Her hand squeezed Amara’s. “I will always be here. Always. I love you, Amir—love of my life—and I forgive you for everything. You gave me the one thing I value more than everything.” Anna raised her tear-stricken eyes to Amara. “You gave me light when you gave me our daughter. And Mara, my beautiful khorshid, you gave me life when I thought we were doomed. I will forever be grateful for you. For your laugh when you woke up, your cries in the middle of the night, the endless hours of cheerleading, the late night pickups at parties, the headaches over boys. You have never failed me, even when I yelled—even when I got so angry I couldn’t bear to talk to you—you never failed me, and I hope I never failed you.”
Amara leaned down and placed her head on her mother’s shoulder to try to contain her sobs, but they broke through nonetheless. “I love you, I love you,” she kept saying, her words echoing one another. Don’t leav
e me, don’t leave me, she wanted to yell. I’m not ready. She cried as her mother addressed Vlady and asked him to take care of his niece, and shook when both he and her father promised they would. It’s hard to lose your best friend, but when your best friend is your mother, the blow of the loss worsens. Although she was grief-stricken almost beyond bearing, Amara held her mother’s hand and looked into her eyes as they began to droop closed. She wanted to reach in them and beg the light not to vanish. She rocked beside her instead, pressing her face to the back of the hand that fed her, bathed her, changed her, and reprimanded her… and wept. Amara wept loudly until the machines signaled that Anna was no more, then the sobs got louder, drowning out the alarm on the machine.
THE WEIGHT OF losing her mother was unbearable. Amara kept replaying everything in her head—her words, her touch, her smile. Philip was long gone when they finally left the hospital, but Amara knew he’d be back. She was grateful he’d given her this time to spend with her mother, because she knew he could have forced her to leave. Colin carried Amara outside and put her in the back of a cab. He held her the whole way home as if he was afraid she was going to break without him, and she may have. When they arrived at her apartment, Colin undressed Amara and bathed her tenderly, pausing only to hold her and let her cry into his shoulder. You’re going to be okay, he kept saying, I’ve got you. He later dressed her and put her to bed as gently as if she were a frightened child, staying with her until she fell asleep. He tiptoed out of the room and poured himself a drink, settling down to watch over Amara.
Amara awoke with a headache. She groaned as she rubbed her heavily puffed eyelids, and looked around the still-dark room, unable to find the source of what woke her. Sitting up she listened for noise and heard it right away. It was coming from the kitchen. She went to the bathroom quickly before following the clatter of pots and pans followed by cursing and stood by the entryway to watch Colin as he fidgeted with the stove. He was wearing lounge pants and no shirt—his favorite thing to wear around the house. His brown hair was a mess, making him that much more adorably delectable.
“Hey,” Amara said, smiling when Colin snapped his head up and registered her presence. He put the pan in his hand down slowly and walked over to her until he was so close she had to crane her neck to look at his face. His eyes were somber as he brought his hands up to cup her face and stroke her cheeks softly. Colin didn’t ask her how she was feeling, he just let his hand wrap to the back of her neck and pulled her to him.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, kissing the top of her head.
Amara breathed in and out, tears springing from her eyes as she wrapped her own arms around his body. As upset as she was, Amara was glad to have her Colin back. They stood quietly as she cried. Even though she knew it was only a matter of time before Philip came around again, Amara didn’t know how she was going to cope with not having her mom to look after.
“What am I going to do today?” she said against his chest. “I have nothing to do.”
“You have a lot to do,” Colin said, stroking her back.
Amara dropped her arms and wiped her face as she looked at him, then wiped his chest, which was glistening from her tears. The last thing she wanted to think about were funeral arrangements. Even though there would be no ceremony, she had to pick a casket and her mom’s clothing. Amara was sure her uncle Vlady would want to at least say a few words as the casket was buried, but she didn’t think she would be able to speak.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, grabbing her arm and leading her to the barstools in the kitchen.
“Funeral arrangements.”
“Want me to take care of everything?”
“I should do it.”
“We’ll do it together.”
Amara nodded, not trusting her voice to thank him.
“Anything you need, Mara,” he said, hugging her to him again. “Anything. You just ask, okay?”
She nodded again.
Colin went back to his pans, deciding on one for eggs and another for bacon. Amara watched as he diced onions and tomatoes to stir into the eggs. He kept going back and forth between the fridge, counter and stove. It was the longest egg and bacon making process she’d ever witnessed, but she wasn’t complaining. He stopped to look at her often, his eyes smiling as he mixed a glass of chocolate milk for her, knowing it was her favorite.
“You think Philip is going to come by today?” she asked as she sipped on her milk.
“He’d better not.”
“I should just call him… I mean, I should just get it over with.”
“Mara, your mother just died, I think whatever Philip needs you to do can wait.”
She sighed. “I don’t think I want to be there.”
“Where?” he asked frowning.
“The funeral…the viewing…whatever it is my uncle is going to try to make us do.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to see her like that. I want to remember her with that light in her eyes, the laughter in her voice, not…. not just lying there. Dead.”
“I didn’t want to go to my dad’s,” Colin said, placing his arms on the counter and reaching for her hands. “But I figured I would regret it later. The burial was fast—like four days after he died—which is… I don’t know, it felt fast. And I didn’t see the point. He would have hated the whole thing, but I still forced myself to go. You don’t want to miss something like this and regret it later.”
“I guess, you’re right,” she said quietly.
“Why don’t we go and get the bad stuff out of the way early and then we can do something a little more uplifting?”
“Like what?”
Colin grinned at her, the twinkle in his eye causing a dip in her stomach. “We can go get married.”
Amara laughed. “Really, Colin?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head with a small laugh. “I figured if anything would make you laugh it would be that.”
“We can go to Ellis Island.”
“Really, Amara?” he mimicked with a groan. Colin hated the mere idea of doing tourist things in the city. Too many crowds. Too many annoying people. Everybody is always bumping into you and they’re not even nice about it! They smiled at their own private joke as they held hands.
“This could be us every morning,” he said.
Amara’s eyes widened as she looked behind him. “You mean you burning our eggs?”
“Shit.” He slid his hands from hers and turned around, cursing the stove, the eggs, the apartment. As he threw the eggs away he looked at her. “Change of plans. First we’re going to go eat, then we’re taking your stuff to my apartment, and after that we’ll deal with the ugliness."
“Why would we take my stuff to your place?” she asked, genuinely confused.
Colin cocked his head. “Do you really want to stay here?”
Did she? The intrusions were something she didn’t accept but had come to expect, and that was the main reason for her not wanting to stay there. Her mom was gone now. Tears pricked her eyes at that. Her mom was gone. For good.
“Hey.” He whispered the words against her temple as his arms wrapped around her. She felt so small cocooned in them. It was one of the things she loved about being with him, he was so much bigger than she and it made her feel so feminine. Colin always managed to make her feel comforted and less alone. Amara leaned into him and wiped her tears away. She was thankful, for the thousandth time, that he was with her.
“I have nobody to take care of,” she whispered against his chest. “It’s like…suddenly my life feels so meaningless.”
Colin pulled back and held her face in his hands so that she could see the honesty etched in his eyes as he spoke. “You will never be meaningless and what are you talking about? You can take care of me. I need you.” His grin made her smile. “My laundry could definitely use some help,” he added.
“Okay, I’ll pack some things,” she agreed with a laugh.
AMARA’S UNC
LE VLADY had been in contact with her about funeral arrangements, which was helpful since he had a better idea of what she needed to do. Colin’s was with her when she picked the casket her mother would be laid to rest in and helped choose the flowers that would be used over it. Amara already knew what dress her mother would want to be dressed in and took it by the funeral home, along with the jewelry and a beautiful hijab to match. It was an emotionally draining day, but having Colin beside her helped her get through it. By the end of the day, when they finally got to his apartment, Amara felt better about everything.
As Colin turned the knob on the large dark wooden door, she couldn’t help but feeling that it was a new beginning for them. Taking a deep breath and the hand he was offering her, she stepped inside and looked around. She’d been there once before, but it felt different this time. The way he watched her made her feel like he was trying to tell her something. As if he was saying, I’m inviting you in. Will you stay? Amara looked into Colin’s eyes and smiled, the first real, happy smile she’d felt on her lips in a couple of days. She hoped it conveyed what she was not quite ready to say aloud: Yes, I’ll stay. Forever, this time.
Colin pulled her into his arms and held her there for a while, softly rocking side to side as if moving to their own lullaby.
“I love the way you smell,” he murmured into her hair. “Best smell in the world.”
“Like jasmine,” she said against his chest.
“Like home,” he said, his words radiating warmth through his chest and into hers. Amara’s heart swelled, and she squeezed him tighter.
“I love you,” she said, her words so low they were almost a whisper. Colin pulled back to look at her, not bothering to hide the surprise in his face. A blush crept into her face as he stared at her. Amara’s thundering heart filled her ears as she waited for Colin’s response to her words. She realized then that, although she’d loved him for a very long time, —longer than she cared to admit—she’d only said the words to his face once before, during the heartbreaking departure in New Orleans. Memories of that trip invaded her mind, but she blinked them away, not wanting to rekindle those dreadful feelings.
The Sinner's Bargain (Contracts & Deceptions Book 2) Page 16