She blinked slowly, as light bounced off her opening eyes, the pungent smell of antiseptic flooding her nose. Something was off.
The ceiling was white, the curtains were too, and the insane beeping of a machine rang in her ears.
She closed her eyes with a sigh, and slowly, the events of the previous night began filling the blank pages of her mind. She bit her lip hard.
The door slid open, and she heard the familiar overly feminine gasp.
“Oh, Amelia, you’re awake,” Isabel exclaimed softly, walking towards her with a tray of fruits, her eyes full of concern, “Why were you driving at such crazy speed? If not for Fred, the police would have been here the minute you…” Isabel went on, spinning out words like a web.
If it were before, Amelia would have laughed, pleased to see Isabel, but right now, her chest was burning, her expression tight, as Isabel's words continued to drone through her ear endlessly.
Finally, Isabel sighed, “So how do you feel, Amy? Things could have been much worse,” She took Amelia's hand in hers.
“I’m fine,” Amelia sat up with Isabel's help, her head swimming with a rising throb.
Isabel continued, “You’ll be discharged soon. Please be more careful. You'll break Fred to pieces if something happens to you.”
Amelia looked at Isabel's warm face, her gaze fierce. ‘Liar’ she wanted to spit at Isabel, but she bit back her words, and did the hardest thing ever—forcing a smile on her face.
~
The sun was disappearing down the horizon when Amelia stepped down from Fred's car, Isabel rushing to hold her arms, so she could walk.
“Careful,” Fred said, taking her hand.
Pretense at it's highest level of mastering. They'd been fussing over her nonstop, since she'd left the hospital.
“Do you want me to stay the night? So you can get enough rest?” Isabel asked, wiping sweat off Amelia's brow, and Amelia felt sick to the core, disgust seizing her insides in a clamp-like grip.
But they didn't stop. The two of them kept up their act of pretense throughout that night, and even over the next few days.
Isabel dropped in every single day to check on her, often staying till late in the night, but Amelia was waiting—waiting for their anniversary, waiting for the excuses.
“Happy anniversary, baby!” Fred shouted to her as soon as she opened her eyes on the D-day of their sixth wedding anniversary.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes, “Thank you,”
“Here,” Fred crossed the room to get a rose, but knocked over his open suitcase half-filled with folded clothes.
“Baby? Are you going somewhere?”
“Yes, sweetheart. Something came up at headquarters. Very urgent.”
And here the excuse was, standing unbelievably before her.
“But it’s our anniversary, and you promised to make up for the other years you were away.”
She'd believed him when he said that, and for some reason, she hoped that what she heard that day was false. That nothing would come between them, that… perhaps she was hearing things.
Fred sighed, packing more clothes into his bag.
“Why are you being difficult right now? Don't be like that. I’ll get you a nice gift on my way back, and we can celebrate this next time, okay? I have to be at the office headquarters before evening.”
Amelia's lips parted to speak, but his phone rang.
He spoke, “Yes, I’m almost done. I’ll handle the business perfectly. You can count on me.”
Amelia struggled to believe he was saying the truth but she knew he wasn’t. The call was probably one of his ways to fool her just like other years.
“I’ll be back before you know it, dear. Come and see me off,” He said, leaning in to hug her. Amelia swallowed the rising lump in her throat, hating how her eyes burned, but she struggled.
She mustn’t let him see her tears.
This year’s trip was different; there was no Isabel joining him for the trip. They didn't pack together as usual.
Could he be saying the truth? Perhaps she really misunderstood that night?
“Hey, Fred!” Isabel’s sweet voice rang out.
Amelia looked up and saw Isabel walking into the house, wearing only a cropped t-shirt and baggy jeans—casual, but astonishingly beautiful.
A cake was in her hands, “Fred and Amy; congratulations to you two on your wedding anniversary,” she continued, her smile burning bright.
“Thank you,” they replied almost simultaneously.
“Fred? What's with the traveling bags?”
Isabel asked.
“Something came up at headquarters; I have to be there.”
“No, that’s not nice, I was looking forward to a very interesting party today. What’s going to happen to the cake?”
“We’ll keep it in the fridge. Perhaps, celebrate it when I return,” Fred answered.
As they spoke, Amelia watched them, slightly confused. That day, she clearly heard them saying they would leave for France or Dubai together…
Wait. Was she mistaken, or was this another one of their tricks?
