The Beauty in Eternity

Chapter 92.

Mason's POV:

I spend my second hour clinging to Amara's toilet. I can hear her up and around, making herself breakfast and being... functional. Fuck this. I had to close the bathroom door because the smell of her food made me want to cut out my tastebuds. I check my watch and it's 12pm. Amara was already up when I roused from my blackout on her couch over two hours ago. She was just coming out of the shower and had already tidied up—so organised.

After another twenty minutes of spooning with her bathroom sink I can finally stand up without feeling as nauseous. I fucking hate drinking. I make my way into the living room and sit down, my head is pounding.

There's a glass of water and an aspirin sitting on the table in front, thank god for Amara.

She makes her way over and takes a seat beside me, holding out a piece of dry toast. "It'll help you hold something down. You need to eat." she tells me with a raised brow.

I take it from her and eat a bite. Surprisingly, it doesn't come straight back up. "Thank you, Doctor." I tease.

She rolls her eyes before clearing her throat. "So," she shrugs. "Last night."

"I'm sorry, I don't even remember how I got into that state. I was just so fucking angry." I tell her. The thought of my piece of shit father makes me want to be sick all over again.

She nods slowly. "What do you remember, exactly?"

"The call, the first five or so drinks... I called you, I seen you at the bar... and then it goes blank." I groan. I hate that I made Amara come pick me up like that.

She nods again. "You were pretty out of it. I let you sleep here so you didn't raid the hotel minibar."

"Probably best." I laugh, and then hold my head as it aches. I need more than a fucking aspirin.

"Hey, you don't hate me—right?" she asks suddenly. My head snaps up and I look to her with a confused expression. What the fuck? It takes me a second to even comprehend what she'd asked.

"No, of course not," I furrow my brow.

"Okay." she smiles.

"I didn't say that, did I?"

"No," she chuckles. "It's just me being me."

Still no better a liar than she ever was.

"If I did anything stupid, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have drank so fucking much."

"You didn't. You passed out on the couch and I went to bed." she says.

"Good," I sigh, closing my eyes for a second to dull the ache. "Thanks for the toast."

"Your last day off?" I ask, trying to fill the weird silence that filled the room. Something is so off, and I don't have a clue what it is.

"Yeah," she nods. "I was gonna go to the diner, get some food. You could use something to line your stomach, too—if you want to come?"

"Sure. Just let me shower first, I stink."

"Yeah, you do." she swats me before disappearing into the kitchen. Maybe I was just imagining it.

Amara's POV:

I sigh to myself. I can't decide whether I'm relieved he doesn't remember, or disappointed. I don't know what good it would do either of us if he remembered last night's conversation, either way.

I take the opportunity of Mason's shower to get changed and take some time to myself. By the time he's finished, he looks at least a little more refreshed than he did.