The Beauty in Eternity

Chapter 76.

—Two weeks later—

Amara's POV:

"Watch it!" a voice grunts as I almost walk directly into them. I look up to see a nurse with a pile of charts stacked up to her chin, a sour expression on her face.

"I'm sorry," I sigh, stepping out of the way. Get it together, Amara.

I walk inside and smile, "I can't tell you how relieved I am you changed your mind about the surgery."

"Yeah, well—you were right," she mumbles reluctantly. "I just needed to make sure my boy was okay, first. I got it in the end."

"How are you feeling? I'm sorry that this is the first time I've managed to properly visit post-op." I sigh, skimming her chart.

"It's okay, dear. I've been fine, just very tired." she flashes me a smile, pulling her covers up to her chin.

"That's totally normal, Barb," I reassure her. "Your BP is looking good and your lung function is so much better already."

"What about that raise of yours?" she questions, dabbing her forehead with a tissue.

"This is my last few days in this wing of the hospital, but I'll still be checking up on you—so you must behave." I tease, earning a laugh in return.

"What's wrong with you, dear?" she asks, sitting upright. Her eyes soften as she looks me up and down, as though she's analysing me.

"Nothing, Barb," I furrow my brow. "What do you mean?"

"You look exhausted, your eyes are bloodshot, each time you've walked by here you seemed upset, your hair is messy, you keep zoning out—and you almost knocked a nice young woman on her ass in the hallway," she chuckles, motioning for me to sit. "I'm a mother, I know when something's wrong."

"You're scarily observant." I tease, earning a knowing raised brow and a stern cross of the arms.

"It's nothing, really. Just some... drama." I clear my throat. Drama is an understatement.

"Come on, tell me," she groans, placing her hand on mine. "You're the only one that talks to me in here and I'd feel better knowing someone else has some messy shit in their life." her lips curl into a smile.

"Oh, I can definitely out-shit you with my life, Barb." I cross my legs with a smirk.

"My son was working as a male stripper when I thought he was in medical school—while my lung abscess was rupturing into my whatever cavity," she raises a smug brow. "Hit me with it."

"The dead, or so I thought, former love of my life showing up at the hospital out of the blue two weeks ago, after two and a half years of me mourning him; while, out of everyone, I had moved on with the sole person he trusted besides me—his best friend, who by the way just happened to save my life and get me through my 'loss'...trumps pole dancing son, any day." I throw my hands up and watch as her face drops.

"Well," she coughs. "Okay, you win."

I laugh as I place my head in my hands. "Not a word of this to anyone, okay?"