sᴜɢᴀʀ sᴛᴏʀᴍ | ✓

34

Isla had brought Zeke to help her and Primo. Amara wanted to refuse but with her injured wrist, her choices were limited. She walked with them as they returned to Primo's car and let him doze off in the backseat.

"Sorry. He was looking for you and I thought—"

"It's okay," Amara cut Isla's words. "Thanks a lot."

Amara pulled the keys from Primo's jeans and gave them to Zeke.

"You'll let me drive?" he asked.

She ran her teeth over her lip. She wasn't sure if getting closer to Zeke would help or not. But she nodded. "I think I need to go to the hospital."

Isla gasped from behind her. "What? Did you get hurt?"

Amara shook her head. "It's fine. We should go."

Zeke slid into the driver seat as Amara sat next to him. She glanced at the rearview to see that Primo slept soundly. The drive was quiet but of course, Zeke decided to speak because of his agenda.

"Amara..."

She pressed her head against the window. "Zeke, don't even go there."

He sighed. "You sure he won't get angry that I drove his car?"

"It's fine."

"Amara—"

"Damn you!" she spat out, glaring at him. Amara clicked her tongue at her misplaced anger. Zeke cared for his father. She couldn't begrudge him for his choices.

There was another sigh from him.

"Does he always get drunk like this?"

Amara scoffed. "Yeah. His mother's birthday... her death anniversary... every time he hears Tristesse..." She threw a furious look towards him. "Do you know why?"

"Because his mom died?"

"She died chasing your father."

Zeke was silent. His grip on the wheel tightened as the atmosphere darkened. "I don't know what to say, Amara. They made sacrifices. Mom can't even step on Spain now. And my stepfather..."

"He left his son," she supplied. It was unfair to judge him for Antonio's mistake. But Primo's pain was hers. She felt it in every fiber of her being.

"He did."

"Primo is a talented pianist, you know. Like his mother. But he quit because all he could see was his dead mom. He couldn't move on. His adopted parents had to convince him to see a grief counselor. And yet... he never went on stage again." Amara watched as Zeke's face stiffened.

"My mother..." he croaked out. "She was diagnosed with cancer eight years ago."

"W-what?"

"My real father walked out on us and I... I called Dad. I didn't know what to do."

Amara shut her eyes in frustration. The story was supposed to be black and white. It wasn't hard to choose but now... what the fuck is this?

"Maybe it's love. Or maybe it's selfishness..." Zeke continued. "But when dad thought that my mom was dying... he wanted her last moments to be with him."

"Shit." She shook her head, trying to block out his words but it was too late. Zeke's heartfelt sentiments had reached her heart.

"I know that they're crazy."

"It's madness!" Amara exclaimed. "Why does Primo have to suffer through this just because his father was crazy in love?"

"I don't have the answers, Amara. I only know that Dad can't die in peace without talking to his son." Zeke made a turn as the hospital building loomed over them. "Do you think Primo can continue like this? You even got hurt."

With his reminder, Amara's wrist began throbbing wildly. She bit her lip in confusion, irritation... anger. She didn't want to be in a position where she had to choose for Primo. But she was also worried.

Could he finally move on if his father died?

Or will he fall deeper into despair?

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

Zeke's brown eyes widened. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips before he answered. "Let them meet."

Her eyes flashed. "That means I have to lie to him."

"Please, Amara..." he pleaded. "He just needs to hear him out. He doesn't need to forgive him. And I know he will listen to you."

Amara pressed her lips tight. "I will think about it."

"I understand."

They waited for her a few minutes before her mother arrived. Amara wanted to explain why she was in the hospital in the middle of the night but her mom's silver eyes were cold and... disappointed.

She listened as her mother made arrangements for both Zeke and Primo using her father's men.

After that, she followed the older woman inside the hospital. The doctor accommodated them without further ado. She was certain that Callista Genovese's presence had something to do with it.

"Thankfully, it's a mild sprain. No tears in the ligaments." The doctor began listing remedies as she scratched at her bandaged hand. It was uncomfortable. "Please follow my directions and it can heal within a week. Understand?"

Amara nodded despite the dejected cloud around her. She heard her mother asked more questions before they left the hospital. She slid into her mom's car, bracing herself for her sermon.

"This is ridiculous, Amara!"

She sighed. "It was an accident."

"Really?" Disbelief was written all over her mother's pretty face. "And not because you were trying to take care of Primo again?"

"Mom—"

"No. Enough, young lady." She waved a finger, shaking her head. "We let you be engaged to him. You said this will make you happy but was that a lie? Why are you getting hurt then?"

"But Mom—"

"Not even a mosquito can bite you! What do you think your father will do once—"

"Mom! Please! Don't tell him!" she begged. "This was an accident, I swear!"

"An accident that ruins your future?What if you can't play music again?" she scoffed. "No, Amara. I don't think Primo is good for you."

"But Mom...." Amara let her tears fall as a choking sound erupted from her throat. "I love him!"

Her mother's gray eyes blinked a few times before a resigned sigh exited her mouth. She mumbled softly. "Of all the things you could inherit from your father... it had to be loyalty. Is this my karma?"

"Mom?"

"Whatever, princess. But please understand that this is serious... if he hurts you again..."

The warning was distinct that Amara swallowed hard. She understood her mother... This was the woman who would never take shit from anyone. The kind of woman she wanted to become.

"Mom... I promise. This won't happen again. And if it did... I'll leave him."