005 — WHY IS HE HERE?!

AMANI

I can swear on the single sunflower that keeps growing atop my parents’ graves that wild banshees just held a concert in my brain.

I peel my eyes open with great effort, hissing as the blinding white lights assault my poor eyeballs. I try to lift my hand but little pin pricks of pain shoot through my entire body.

“It hurts…” I whimper helplessly.

As if on cue, the sound of shuffling feet reaches my ears and seconds later, my aunt’s face fills the peripheral of my vision.

“Amani, you’re awake! Oh, darling. I was so worried about you. What happened?”

Her worried tone snaps me to the present and I wince in pain as she helps me to a sitting position.

“Aunt… what are you doing here?”

She pulls me into a bear hug and despite the fact that my entire body is sore, I draw comfort from her warm embrace. Tears prick my eyes as I suddenly realise how much I’ve missed her.

“Aunt…”

“Hush, my darling. That’s enough.” She pulls back and gives me a wobbly smile, running her fingers over my face. “What happened to you, Amani? How did you fall down the stairs?”

Her expression suddenly becomes cold.

“Did Henry… do something to you?”

My chest constricts painfully as bits and pieces of our argument floods my memory. I shake my head and lower my face in shame.

“No, he didn’t. I actually slipped.”

Aunt Ophelia grips both my hands in hers and whispers fiercely; “are you scared of him? Is that it? You can tell me if he hurt you, Amani. I’ll deal with him.”

I look at her with tear filled eyes.

“Sometimes I wish he’d slapped me, aunt. I wish he’d physically hurt me instead. Maybe I would’ve healed faster. But the emotional pain that Henry has caused… I don’t think I’ll ever heal, aunt.”

My voice cracks at the end as tears spill down my cheeks and splatter all over my aunt’s arm. She doesn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, my baby. What has that fool done to you?”

She gives me another hug and I hold onto the material of her blouse as sobs wrack my frame.

I cry for my dead son.

I cry for my dead marriage.

I cry for my broken heart.

When there’s no more tears to cry and I’m completely empty, a doctor walks into the room.

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting.” He murmurs when he spots my red-rimmed eyes. “I’m here to check on the patient.

It takes approximately five minutes for the doctor to check my vital signs and ask a few questions. When he’s done, he turns to my aunt.

“Asides the pain and a few scratches, your niece is perfectly okay. She’ll be discharged today, but please ensure that you get her medication from the pharmacy and that she takes them.”

He’s about to leave with his nurse when I speak up;

“Nurse, have you seen my husband by any chance?” My mouth feels bitter as I say that word.

She turns and gives me a warm smile.

“Mr. Wilson left the moment he dropped you off. He said he had an important meeting to attend.”

So he abandoned me. I don’t even have the strength to act surprised.

“And Zeya? The lady who came with him.”

“Mr. Wilson asked her to go back home and take care of Miss Laura’s children.” The nurse replies swiftly.

Anger burns through my veins. Wow, Henry. Wow.

“Can I go now?” The nurse asks politely.

I nod. “Of course. My apologies for holding you up.”

When she leaves, I keep my head lowered, waiting for my aunt’s barrage of insults.

“Go ahead, aunt. Insult me all you want.” I whisper, my voice dripping with sadness. “I deserve it all. You warned me not to get married to Henry but I refused to listen. I deserve all the insults. Come on…”

Aunt Ophelia sinks into the bed beside me, wraps her arms around my shoulders and draws me close.

“The death of your son and your husband’s shitty behaviour are not your fault, my darling. I will never blame you for that.”

I blink quickly to stop the new onslaught of tears.

“But if I'd listened…”

“What is done is done. Besides, there’s another gentleman that I’d like you to meet.”

I snap away from her embrace like a biker on drugs, my eyes widening and narrowing in curiosity all at once.

“Another gentleman? Aunt…”

My curiosity morphs into suspicion when her green eyes refuse to meet mine.

“Keep an open mind, Amani, okay? He’s a good man. I’m sure… I’m sure you’ll like him.”

Okay, something is certainly wrong here. I flop down on the bed.

“Okay, then. Where is this man?”

My aunt has been trying to match me with “eligible bachelors” for as long as I can remember. I’m not even surprised.

Her eyes light with joy.

“He went over to the pharmacy to get your medication. He should be here anytime soon.”

I roll my eyes. “Aunt, you do realise that I’m not even divorced yet, right?”

She shrugs. “Amani, you're twenty five years old. Yes, you don’t need a man to complete you, but I will not let you spend another second wallowing in depression because of that bastard, Henry. Now, cheer up.”

Just as she concludes her honourable speech, a low, confident knock sounds on the door and my heartbeat accelerates for reasons I don't quite understand.

Aunt Ophelia leaps from the bed like she’s been shot.

“He’s here!”

My frown gets even deeper as I watch her pace around the room, wringing her hands nervously.

I calmly lean against my headboard. Whoever the man is, I’ll simply apologise for wasting his time and send him on his merry way.

“Come in. The door’s open.” She calls.

My bed is directly facing the door and the first thing I see when the stranger walks in are his polished, black Christian Louboutins.

Jeez, where did Aunt Ophelia find a rich dude this time?

“I’m sorry I’m late. The pharmacy is quite packed today.” His dark baritone pierces the air and all my senses immediately come alive.

My pulse pounds wildly against my throat as my eyes quickly travel up his well ironed slacks and three piece suit until I meet those familiar icy blue eyes.

For a moment, the world falls away and all I see is him. All my senses are attuned to him. I stop breathing all together.

“It can’t be.” I whisper mindlessly. “This is a dream, right?”

Standing in front of me is Bhyron Macaulay, New York City’s famous ice cold King and the man who shattered my heart to pieces when I was just eighteen.

Those cold blue eyes sweep over my frame, leaving tendrils of electricity in its wake. As usual, I can’t read him. I have no idea what he’s thinking.

As usual, he’s cold. Unreadable. Untouchable — just like six years ago.

“I don’t believe I came from Mars, Little Caramel. Don’t stare for too long. You’re starting to seem like a pervert.”

First came shock. Then comes anger.

I fist my trembling fingers underneath the sheets and open my mouth to scream at him.

Realising that it’s safer if I just scream at my aunt instead, I swivel my head in her direction.

“What the flipping hell is he doing here, aunt? Start talking, please. And this better be good.”

I watch with rising distress as Aunt Ophelia slowly edges towards the door.

“There, there. There’s no need to be violent, Amani.”

I bare my teeth at her. “That is not the answer to my question.”

She pauses at the door and gives me a nervous smile.

“Look, Bhyron just wants to speak with you. He even got your medication from the pharmacy. He’s such a nice man.”

I’m trembling with anger at this point. My aunt knows more than anyone how much this man hurt me, how shattered I was when he suddenly called off our betrothal. How could she do this to me?

“I don’t want him here. Ask him to leave.”

Without waiting for her response, I settle into the uncomfortable hospital bed and shut my eyes, hoping that my worst nightmare will be gone by the time I open them.

My brain registers the opening and closing of the door. I think I’m alone until I hear the crunching sound of a paper bag. I sit up and roll my eyes.

“Aunt, you’re so lucky you convinced him to leave. How could you…?”

The words get stuck in my throat when my eyes clash with Bhyron’s tall frame leaning against the door.

He’s still here?!

There’s a very devilish smirk on his perfect lips. Asides that, he seems completely unbothered.

I swallow thickly as I take him in. He’s changed so much from the teenager I used to know. His tall, lanky frame has developed into well toned, solid muscle. His perfectly symmetrical face has a hint of dark stubble and his once cropped hair currently falls to his shoulders in chestnut-coloured waves.

He was a handsome teenager, but as an adult, Bhyron Macaulay is gorgeous. Dangerously so.

He resembles a cross between Aquaman and my all time crush, Lee Min-Ho, thanks to his mixed Asian-American genes.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, praying my voice does not quiver.

He takes one step in my direction and my toes curl in trepidation.

“Is that how you welcome an old friend? Where are your manners, Little Caramel?”

I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. When I open them, Bhyron is staring so intently at me, I’m pretty sure he can see straight into my soul.

“Six years ago, you said that you couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with me. You said I was filthy.”

I lift a brow at him. “What changed, Bhyron? Have you suddenly developed the ability to stand filth since we last met?”

Something shifts in his eyes. Something dark.

“We’ll talk about what happened six years ago when you get better. Right now, you need to take your medication.”

“Right. The medication.” I murmur sarcastically. “How much do I owe you for that? You don’t need to stay around and pretend like you suddenly care about me. How much is your money?”

When he speaks, I can feel the subtle anger in his tone.

“You owe me twenty million dollars, Little Caramel. How about that…?”