I collapsed back onto the couch, the ache in my chest spreading through my entire body.
An hour passed, and the doctor still hadn’t arrived. I managed to grab my phone, my hands trembling as I dialed Damon’s number. It rang and rang, but he didn’t answer.
A chime interrupted the silence, and I glanced at the screen. A message from Damon.
{Try to get better, Amara. I had picked the doctor to come check up on Miranda. I don’t want to risk anything with her.}
The words blurred as tears filled my eyes. My hand fell limply to my lap, the phone slipping from my grasp. My heart felt like it had been ripped out, stomped on, and discarded.
Risk anything with her? What about me?
I stared at the door, hoping, praying he’d walk back in, that he’d realize what he was doing to me. But deep down, I knew he wouldn’t.
The room felt colder than ever as the reality of it all settled over me. I was alone.
I stared at my phone countless times, willing it to ring, to vibrate, to do something that would prove Damon cared enough to call back. With trembling hands, I took it and dialed his number again. The ringing seemed louder in the oppressive silence of the room. When it cut to voicemail, my heart sank even deeper
I needed air. Anything to escape the suffocating weight pressing down on my chest. Wrapping myself in a coat, I stepped outside, the cold biting my fevered skin.
I clung to the hope that Damon might appear, that he’d realize his mistake and come for me, like he always did in the past. But the streets were empty. Only the crunch of snow under my boots accompanied me as I shuffled weakly forward.
My vision blurred, and my steps faltered.The ground rushed toward me, but before I hit it, strong hands gripped my arms, steadying me.
“Damon?” I whispered weakly, clinging to the hope it was him.
But when I looked up, I met a pair of steel-gray eyes—not Damon’s striking cerulean ones.
“Are you okay?” The man’s voice was deep, commanding, laced with concern that resonated in my ears as my vision darkened.
I tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. My body sagged against his hold.
“Hey, stay with me!” His sharp tone demanded my attention, but I couldn’t fight it anymore. My eyelids fluttered shut, and the world faded away, leaving only the echo of his voice ringing in my ears.
- - - - -
The antiseptic scent hit me the moment my eyes fluttered open. The sterile white walls and soft hum of machines confirmed I was in a hospital. Blinking against the fluorescent light, I turned my head and froze. A slightly familiar, strikingly handsome face was watching me.
“Hey, you’re awake,” he said, his voice softer than I expected.
I swallowed, my throat dry and scratchy. “Who are you?”
His lips curled into a small smile. “I brought you here.”
My mind raced to piece together the fragments of my memory. “Oh... thanks for that.” I nodded, realizing my manners had slipped. “You are?”
“Tyler. Kennedy,” he said, tilting his head as if expecting recognition.
“Tyler Kennedy?” I repeated, squinting at him. His name tugged at a distant memory.
He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Goodness, you’ve forgotten me, Amara.”
The smile on his face sparked clarity, and my breath caught. “Tyler. You’re my brother’s friend.”
“Took you forever to remember me,” he teased. “Meanwhile, I never forgot you.”
