He picked up almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for her call.
“Leave, Rowan,” Amara said, her voice low but edged with frustration. “Stop following me.”
There was a pause on the other end, just long enough to make her think he might argue, but instead, Rowan’s voice came through, calm and measured. “I was just making sure you got home safely.”
For a brief moment, her hardened expression softened.
“I’m home now,” she said, her voice softening despite herself. “So leave.”
Rowan didn’t miss a beat. “Sure. But get ready by ten in the morning. I’ll pick you up.”
Amara’s jaw clenched in frustration. Why did I agree to this? She wanted to smash her head against the wall for letting herself get roped into his games. But despite the growing storm in her chest, she sighed, defeated.
“Fine,” she muttered.
The call ended, and the air around her seemed colder, heavier. She slipped her phone back into her pocket, taking a deep breath before stepping through the front door of her family’s home.
The scent of a recently finished dinner lingered in the air, comforting yet distant. Her parents, Isabelle and Vincent, were just leaving the dining room as she passed by on her way to her room. Their faces were relaxed, content, but when they saw her, Vincent’s brow furrowed slightly, as if sensing something was amiss.
Amara barely had time to acknowledge them before she heard the familiar sound of small feet rushing toward her. Vaughn bolted across the hallway, his short legs carrying him straight into her. He wrapped his tiny arms around her legs, his face pressed against her in a fierce hug.
“Mommy, where were you?” Vaughn’s voice was filled with the pure innocence of childhood, but there was a faint sadness in his tone that tugged at her heart. “I missed you so much.”
Amara bent down, scooping him into her arms, and kissed his cheek. His warmth melted away some of the ice that had formed in her
Amara smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Did you do your homework?”
Vaughn nodded eagerly. “All done, Mommy!”chest. “I missed you too, baby,” she whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “How was school today?”
Vaughn’s face brightened, the sadness quickly replaced with excitement. “It was good! The teacher taught us tables today!”
“Good boy,” she praised him, her voice soft, but her mind was already elsewhere.
As she stood with Vaughn in her arms, her mother, Isabelle, glanced at her with a knowing look, the kind only mothers seem to have. “I heard Alessandro took you out on a date tonight?” Isabelle’s tone was light, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity.
Amara shifted Vaughn in her arms, her muscles tensing at the question. Before she could respond, Vaughn looked up at her with wide eyes, his expression dulling slightly. “Really, Mommy? You went on a date?”
The innocence in his voice only made Amara’s guilt swell, a dark cloud looming over her. She kissed his forehead again, trying to mask her inner turmoil. “Yes, sweetie, I did.”
She turned to her mother, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. “Yes, Mom. Alessandro and I went out.”
Vincent, always the calm presence in the room, spoke up from the doorway, his deep voice breaking the uneasy silence. “How was it?”
Amara shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. “It went well.”
“Good,” Vincent said simply, nodding in approval, though he didn’t press further.
Isabelle wasn’t as easily satisfied. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing with concern. “You’ve been out since morning. You must be tired. Go rest, Amara.”
Amara smiled weakly, appreciating her mother’s attempt at care, but it felt hollow. The weight of the day was bearing down on her, and all she wanted was to disappear into her room and shut out the world. She nodded, placing Vaughn down gently on the floor. “Yeah, I think I will.”
But as she started to walk away, Vaughn tugged on her hand, his small voice cutting through the noise in her mind. “Mommy, can you read me a bedtime story?”
Amara’s heart softened immediately. No matter how exhausted she felt, she couldn’t deny him this. She knelt down to his level, brushing her hand through his soft hair as she smiled gently. “Sure, baby,” she said, her voice tender, though weighed down by the emotional weight of the evening. “Which story would you like to hear?”
Vaughn’s little face scrunched up in concentration as he thought about it, his tiny fingers tapping his chin in a way that reminded her of Rowan. After a few moments, his face lit up with a smile. “Jack and the Beanstalk!”
Amara chuckled softly, nodding. “Alright, Jack and the Beanstalk it is.”
She took Vaughn’s hand and led him to his room, his small feet padding across the floor as he eagerly followed. Once inside, Amara sat on the edge of his bed, helping him climb under the covers. Vaughn settled in, his eyes already full of excitement as he waited for her to begin.
Amara pulled a worn storybook from the nearby shelf, its pages slightly frayed from how often they had read it together. She opened it carefully, her fingers tracing the familiar illustrations of towering beanstalks and giants.
“Once upon a time,” Amara began, her voice soft and steady, “there was a poor boy named Jack who lived with his mother. They had nothing but a cow to their name, and one day, Jack’s mother told him to sell the cow at the market for money.”
Vaughn’s eyes were wide, hanging onto her every word as if he had never heard the story before. Amara couldn’t help but smile at his wonder, her earlier stress fading into the background, if only for a moment.
As she continued reading, the familiar rhythm of the tale soothed her, and the weight of her earlier thoughts began to lift. She described Jack’s encounter with the mysterious man who gave him the magical beans, the towering beanstalk that reached into the sky, and the terrifying giant that lived in the castle above the clouds.
“Fee-fi-fo-fum!” she said in her best giant voice, making Vaughn giggle beneath the covers. “I smell the blood of an Englishman!”
As she continued, she couldn’t help but notice how Vaughn’s eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment. His little body relaxed against the pillows, his breaths becoming softer and slower.
Amara’s voice softened even more as she neared the end of the story. “And so, Jack chopped down the beanstalk, and the giant fell to his doom. Jack and his mother were safe, and they lived happily ever after.”
She closed the book gently, placing it on the nightstand as she looked down at Vaughn. His eyes were now closed, his breathing steady and deep. He had fallen asleep, the remnants of a smile still lingering on his lips.
Amara leaned down and kissed his forehead, her heart swelling with love. “Goodnight, baby,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet room. She brushed his hair one last time before standing up and tiptoeing out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.