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chapter four : the clash

Amelia's Pov

A driver had suddenly changed lane, causing the abrupt stop.

"I am sorry, ma'am. I apologize for my mistake," she said with a shaky and breathless tone, tightening her grip on the steering wheel till her knuckles turned white.

"It is fine, Caren. Let's continue with our journey,"

I said to her, rubbing her right hand that was gripping the wheel.

"Yes, ma'am,"

she muttered, turning on the ignition to continue the drive.

I settled back into my seat as Caren continued the journey to whatever jewelry store she had in mind.

Before I could wander more into any thoughts, we arrived there.

Caren proceeded into the parking lot while I inhaled and exhaled.

She parked in one of the empty spots, and I got down from the car.

The weather was cloudy, mirroring my chaotic thoughts, the weight of the grey heaving down on my shoulder.

The air carried a sweet smell of baked pastries—a fleeting comfort in the midst of my numbness.

Everywhere was surrounded with overlapping voices and horns that made my mind foggy.

"It is this way, ma'am." Caren tugged at my sleeves, and I came to the realization that I was walking off.

I followed behind her, letting her lead me like I had allowed Devon to do all these years, and I felt my legs wobble at the sight of the big signboard of the jewelry store.

My mind nitpicking and stretching my fear,

"What am I going to buy?"

"What if I pick the wrong piece?"

"What if I offend Devon more than I already have?"

"What if...?"

"Ma'am, be careful!" I heard Caren screech, saving me from colliding into a mother and child.

"I am so sorry, miss, I apologize,"

Caren said hurriedly to the woman, who had an incredulous stare on her flushed face.

"YOU BETTER HOLD THIS BLIND BAT! YOU DO NOT WANT HER RUNNING INTO THE STREETS!"

the woman jeered and hissed, pulling her daughter, who was fondling with a bag of chips, away.

I continued to stare at the girl who looked so carefree even though her mother was pulling her.

I unconsciously rubbed my belly, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"Will Devon change towards me if I keep the baby?"

I stood there, staring at the back of the woman and her child with questions in my mind.

I felt a gentle tug on my sleeve, and Caren's voice brought me back,

"Ma'am, are you okay?"

I nodded, trying to compose myself. But inside, I was crumbling. I didn't know what I was doing here, or what I was looking for.

The woman's words kept echoing in my mind, "You better hold this blind bat..."

Am I a blind bat, stumbling through life, not knowing what I wanted?

Or was I just trying to make the best out of a bad marriage?

I rubbed my belly, feeling a mix of emotions.

Am I ready for this?

Am I ready to be a mom?

Will I survive this?

I feel like I am losing myself in the process. Devon, the baby, the jewelry store... it is so overwhelming. I do not know what I want, or what I need.

I just know that I am tired, so tired of walking on eggshells in my marriage.

"Ma'am, we should go in,"

Caren said with her voice gentle and soothing, leading me towards the store. I followed, like a robot, not thinking about what I am doing.

The guard at the door swung the door open even before Caren could reach for it, and we walked into the store, nodding at the guard simultaneously.

Bright lights displayed jewelry on silk scarves. A few scattered sequins and semi-precious stones lay around on polishing cloths for the view of buyers.

I looked around to see popular jewelry brands on long counters in gleaming glass display cases.

People were pointing at pieces of their choice with sales associates at their beck and call, reviewing the qualities of each piece.

Soothing background music played, but not loud enough to tune out the horns of cars in the traffic that was beginning to build up outside,

or the chatter of the till tape spitting out of the debit machine, and click-clacks of heels against the resin- tile.

The smell of air freshener, ammonia, and perfume lingered in the atmosphere, and I struggled to pull a full breath.

I continued to move around, my eyes scanning from one piece to another, when one of the many clicks of heels got oddly closer to me.

"You are welcome to Satire, ma'am. How can I help you?"

the lady asked with a sweet smile on her face, and I began to wonder if it was a marketing strategy or if she was just being friendly.

"I am in search of a rare piece for my mother-in-law," I answered with my eyes wandering to a flower decor in the corner of the store.

"Mrs...." she said, staring at me pointedly to complete it.

"Just Amelia. Amelia, Mrs. Amelia," I rambled to her. She nodded at me, and I felt a sudden tightness in my chest.

The wheel in my mind began to spin and my worries began to creep in ,

What if Devon finds out I did not introduce myself with his name?

My lips trembled, and my palm became sweaty. I reached for Caren, who was standing behind me.

And my legs suddenly wobbled.

"Ma'am! Mrs. Amelia!" the two of them called out at once.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" Caren asked, rubbing my back.

"Should I get you water, Mrs. Amelia?" the clerk asked, crinkling her brows.

"That won't be necessary, thank you. I am okay," I answered, adjusting my clothes.

I rubbed my sweaty palm against my skirt, blinking and trying to refocus ,when a loud voice suddenly sliced through my fogged mind

"WELL, WELL, WELL." I heard a loud and familiar voice speak, accompanied by loud claps and clicks of heels.

"Who would have thought that I will be graced with the presence of the Kolak's princess? I would have brought the media."

She spoke as she came to a stop in front of me with her minions cackling behind.

"I will do well to send you a copy of my schedule, Miss Mercedez," I answered, moving away from her sight and smell of her invasive chanel no 5.

"Does Devon know that you are here?" she whispered as she followed me.

"Yes, he does," I answered her almost immediately.

"What is he even doing with a pathetic girl like you?" she spoke again, getting under my skin this time around.

"Same thing he is doing with a girl like you," I muttered, clenching my hands.

"And what is wrong with a girl like me?" she asked, twirling around with her hands spread out showing off the limited edition dress she was wearing.

"I KNOW YOU HATE ME, AMELIA! YOU HATE THE FACT THAT YOUR MAN LEAVES YOU ALONE TO SPEND TIME WITH ME!"

She sneered, her voice a volume higher, with a sickening grin plastered on her face.

I looked around to notice that a few people were already focusing and closing in on us. Their whispers grew and I felt my skin crawl

My breath turned heavy, and I began to feel small, My vision tunneled and my stomach dipped.

"WHY DON'T YOU RUN TO DADDY DEAREST LIKE ALWAYS?"

She cackled, clapping her hands.

I clenched my hand, feeling the burn of tears in my eyes, and I caved in fighting the nausea that rose in my belly as I took to my heels and ran, bumping into people around me.