He stared at her. So that’s it. You’ve moved on. She leaned closer. Her voice icy.
I’ve been moved on. I only stayed because of one thing. TZ filled Michael’s eyes.
Then why don’t you just leave? Because I want everything that comes with this marriage.
The house, the cars, the luxury. And if you’re not careful, you’ll lose it all.
She laughed cruy. You what can you do from that wheelchie? Threaten me with your pity.
Michael turned away, completely broken. Outside the room, Amara had heard part of the argument.
Her chest felt heavy. She returned to the kitchen and sat quietly wiping her eyes.
She didn’t understand why, but Michael’s pain felt personal. The next day, Ruth called for her.
Take this dress to the dry cleaners and come straight back, she said sharply. And don’t try anything funny.
Yes, ma. Amara replied. On her way back, Amora stopped at a small pharmacy to buy antiseptic for a cut on her hand.
While waiting in line, she overheard two women talking. Did you see Mrs. Williams at the club again last night?
One asked. Yes, the other replied. And she came with that tall man. What’s his name?
Derek. The one with the tattoo. But she’s married. The first woman said they say her husband can’t walk.
What she supposed to do? Amore’s heart sank. So it was true. Back at the mansion, she served Michael his lunch.
He barely touched it. So would you like something else? She asked. He shook his head.
My appetite is gone. She sat across from him carefully. So life doesn’t end in a wheelchair.
He looked at her. How do you stay so hopeful, Amara? I’ve lost everything before, she replied softly.
My parents, my home, my dignity. But every day I’m alive is a chance to start again.
Michael sighed. You’re stronger than you look. And you’re more than your legs, sir, she said gently.
You still have your brain, your heart, your voice. Use them. That night, Michael couldn’t sleep.
