The Beauty in Eternity

Chapter 106.

Amara's POV:

The first day was a total blur.

I went to work, I did my job, I went home.

It was the first day that I hadn't had contact with Mason since Italy. Not one text, not one phone call. I was sure the day would be hell, that I'd spend it driving myself crazy. But in all honesty, I don't remember it much at all. Like I was drifting through a dream, or some sort of alternate reality.

Day number two, though, was horrible.

Every part of me wanted to call and check on him. He hadn't text, he hadn't called, he hadn't apologised.

Not that I expected him to, in such a state. But Mason hurt me, and he hadn't apologised. Nor had he attempted to. If he even raises his voice, or uses the wrong tone, he feels guilty for a week. So why doesn't he care now?

I wonder if I judged it all wrong. If somehow, I missed something, and no matter how much we love each other we just aren't supposed to make it. But I can't believe that, not when being with him feels so right. Felt, so right.

I felt like a ghost, drifting around this place. Constantly terrified that one of my patients would wear his face, after six bottles of whisky to drown out his problems. But maybe he didn't care enough to drown himself in alcohol for me, not now.

"Woods," Julie calls me over. "What's going on with you today?"

"I just don't feel well." I say, totally unprepared to even scrape the surface of what's going on. Especially with my boss.

"Contagious?"

"No."

"Go splash some cold water on your face, get yourself together." she orders, taking the charts from my hands.

I stand over the sink, cupping the cold water in my hands as I let it wash over my face. I look up at myself in the mirror. My eyes are dark, still slightly bloodshot. I didn't sleep last night. I look drained, empty. It reminds me of the day I moved house. The day I looked at the person in the mirror, without recognising who she was. Begging her to remove the piece of him from around her neck.

I reach under my scrubs, and pull out the locket. I stare at it and my whole body feels as though it constricts at the sight, the words scribed on the front making me feel sick to my stomach.

I take a deep breath in, tucking it away. I have a job to do, patients to see.

I smile at myself in the mirror, the expression contradicting every part of me.

Just... breathe.

—————

Day number three.

The worst yet.

I wake up with a pit in my stomach, and I walk around work with that same pit eating away at me. Becoming deeper and deeper by the hour. A pit that's so deep, I can't focus on anything at all.

I try to convince myself that it's the worst simply because it's the third. The third day with no contact, and I'm not used to it. But today, something was different. And I know it. I feel it in every inch of my body.

I pull out my phone, and against everyone's better judgement—including my own... I text him.

*Mason, just send me a message to let me know that you're okay. Please.*