Jungle Princess ✔

Chapter 55: Post-Pregnancy Blues

Curling up under the covers of her bed seemed like the only thing Amitola was capable of doing for the next three days after the miscarriage. According to Dr. Wilson, these things happened and she just had to accept it and move on with her life, which was particularly hard to do when Amitola didn't know what to do with her life anymore.

For some reason, Keon had stopped visiting them. Amitola wondered if he had left New York already, but she knew him too well to assume he did. Keon was lying low, waiting for the perfect time to strike back into her life again – her non-existent life.

Daniel called it the "post-pregnancy blues" and assured her she would get over it soon. But two ice cream tubs and six bags of barbeque chips later, Amitola still wasn't over it.

"I think you need human contact," Daniel suggested one night, sitting beside her on the couch. Amitola was watching a marathon of kids' shows, the only shows she was able to understand. At least they used simple words and were enlightening to watch. They reached out to an audience of young untouched hearts – an audience Amitola wasn't a part of, but longed to be.

"You are human, and I am contacting you," Amitola shot back lazily. Did she mention she was rocking the whole sweatpants, over-sized jumper, messy bun and I-haven't-showered-in-three-days look?

Daniel shook his head. "No, Amitola, I'm not talking about me. I don't count. And soon, you won't either, the way you're going. Look at you! When's the last time you took a shower, huh?"

Amitola mumbled her answer, too ashamed to say it any louder. Somehow, Daniel heard her, and began hauling her lazy butt off the couch. "You are taking a shower right now, and I am taking you out for dinner."

"I don't wanna!" Amitola protested, grabbing onto the nearest pillow and hugging it to her chest. After a tug of war that Daniel eventually won, Amitola found herself stripping down in the bathroom, sulking while she was at it. Amitola hated doing things she didn't want to do, and right now, she wasn't in the mood for a shower. She was afraid if she washed off all the dirt, all that would be left was her bare feelings and pain shining through.

"Do you feel better?" Daniel asked knowingly after she had towel-dried her hair and worn some warm decent clothes.

"Yes..." Amitola muttered sheepishly. She really did. And instead of feeling more pain, she had managed to sluice it all away down the shower drain, along with a chunk of knotted hair.

"Now come on. We are taking you out."

Twenty-five minutes later, Amitola and Daniel entered a dimly lit restaurant. There was a live band playing some soft-rock as they took their seats, scanning the menu. Daniel chatted to her over the music, claiming that this was the best place to eat a good meal and listen to some good music. Amitola particularly liked the atmosphere because it allowed her to sink into the shadows and become one with the audience, who dined and conversed amongst themselves whilst also enjoying the band.

There was a round of applause, and a waitress came to their service, asking Daniel what he would like to order. Amitola didn't care what she ate, as long as it was food. The band packed up their equipment and moved off the stage, disappearing in the back. There was a host, a short sparky man with electric blue hair and piercings on his face, who introduced the next act as a small group from the Pacific Islands, a group Amitola immediately recognized when they entered the stage.

"Please give a warm welcome to Ocean Breeze!" the host boomed into the mic before scampering off the stage at the burst of clapping. Amitola clapped too as she stared at the members who took their places. Leela wore jeans under a rose, amber and white flower sarong, and over her sweater she had a coconut bra on. As usual, she looked stunning with her long thick mane of black curls tumbling down her back and a flower tucked behind her ear. Morris wore his trademark trilby hat, sitting on a stool with his acoustic in his lap. Vince waved at the audience with a pearly grin, looking fresh in a deep blue turtleneck, his flute clutched tightly in his hand.