Chapter 160: Chapter 160
The park was quiet. Really quiet, with the kind of silence that hummed like a song. It was worth the time Amara had carved out of her busy day. Everything was worth the long walk here.
The evening breeze brushed her hair back as if it too respected her peace. Everything about the park, the rustle of leaves, the fading chatter of children, and the sight of the sky bruising into night fueled her productivity. It made her sharper. It made her more herself.
She smiled at the stray dog sniffing around her shoes. It tilted its head when she smiled, and barked softly, as if smiling back. Without hesitation, she bent down, broke off the last bite of her donut, and fed it to him. The dog’s tail wagged. Amara smiled one last time before standing up.
"Amara, right?"
The voice cut through her stillness. Amara froze halfway up, then deliberately sat back down, crossing her legs as though she had nowhere better to be. Slowly, she tilted her chin up.
A woman stood right before her. Her red lipstick smeared too bold, with a black scarf knotted dramatically, and her sunglasses so oversized they swallowed half her face.
Amara’s frown appeared instantly, uninvited. Something about this woman’s presence screamed off. The wrong perfume, the wrong smile, and the wrong everything. The woman was tall, but not taller than her.
"Do you want something?" Amara asked curtly. There was no patience in her for strangers, and no appetite for fake niceties. She’d rather give warmth to stray animals.
The woman hummed, tilting her head. "I see now." The words were muttered under her breath, like she was confirming something to herself.
Amara arched her brow. She heard it. She heard every syllable the woman said, but refused to indulge.
"I’m Theresa."
The name slid into Amara’s chest like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake. And suddenly, everything made sense. The lipstick. The scarf. The sunglasses. The offness. Also, the boldness.
"Oh," Amara exhaled, leaning back with a sigh of understanding. "So you’re Theresa."
The woman’s lips curved, smug.
Amara didn’t return it. "Theresa who?" she countered. "You can’t just parade yourself around, dropping one name like a celebrity, and expect me to know you. Especially with that face buried under all that nonsense."
Her long hair whipped across her cheek as the wind picked up, but her expression didn’t flinch. Her expression remained sharp and straight.
Theresa peeled off her sunglasses with slow deliberation, forcing a smile that carried no warmth. "You know me. Don’t pretend otherwise. Celeste must have mentioned me. Someone must have."
She sounded like someone mentioning her would be equivalent to winning world record breaking trophies.
Amara’s lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile. It was a smirk dripping with dismissal. "Oh, I know of you," she said softly. "You’re the ex. That’s all there is to know about you. Don’t twist it into more than it is. You’re not history, Theresa. You’re just a footnote. And not even an interesting one. She never really mentioned you as someone relevant, though."
Theresa’s jaw tightened, the smile cracking like cheap glass. "You have a sharp tongue."
"And you have an inflated ego," Amara shot back, her tone light but her eyes cutting. "Thinking you matter simply because you once shared his bed. That doesn’t make you relevant. That makes you recycled. Also, why are you here?"
Amara drew in a deep breath, and with deliberate care, she patted the head of the dog, circling her leg again, and smiled at it. When she raised her face back to Theresa, every trace of warmth was gone.
Theresa’s nostrils flared, her chest rising like she was holding back a scream. "Careful."
"Why?" Amara asked calmly, resting her chin in her hand. "Are you going to run back to Dominic and cry about it? Oh, wait..." she paused, dragging her gaze up and down Theresa like she was measuring her and finding her small. "...he doesn’t even care enough to chase you, does he? That’s why you’re bitter."
The words struck. Amara saw it, and smiled softly. She saw the way Theresa flinched before smoothing her expression over again. Theresa was a practiced woman, but not practiced enough to fool her.
Theresa leaned in, her voice low, and dripping venom. "And what about your precious Celeste, hm? That saint of yours?" Her smile curved cruelly. "Running after uncle and nephew. What does that make her if not—"
She didn’t finish.
Amara moved first. Without hesitation, and without any thought, she acted. The half-empty bottle of water sitting by her side was in her hand, tilted, and the remaining contents were poured straight onto Theresa’s face in one swift motion.
She emptied half the bottle on Theresa’s face.
Cold water dripped down Theresa’s cheekbones, ruined her powder, and smudged her lipstick into something clownish.
Amara leaned back, and scoffed. Her voice was calm as steel, with her voice clean when her lips parted. "Don’t you ever put your filthy mouth on her name."
Theresa froze. For one sharp second, her whole body went still. Then, like a switch, she recovered. Her hand came up fast. Too fast, and she slapped Amara across the face.
The slap was hard. Extremely hard. Her knuckles ring left a small cut at the side of Amara’s cheek. Blood immediately marked that spot.
The sound cracked through the quiet park.
Amara’s head jerked, her cheek stinging, but her hand was already moving. Her palm connected with Theresa’s face in a brutal backhanded slap that echoed louder than the first.
The sharp intake of breath from the dog nearby was the only witness to the war that had just begun.
Theresa’s eyes flared with fury. Amara’s blazed with fire.
Theresa staggered back a step, her scarf sliding off her shoulder like it too rejected her. The red smear of her lipstick bled across her chin, matching the livid flush in her cheeks.
Her chest heaved, but Amara didn’t move. She stayed seated, one hand brushing her jaw where the sting still lingered, and her eyes locked on Theresa with a predator’s calm.
Amara leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her stare unrelenting. "If you think you can crawl back into Dominic’s orbit by throwing dirt at Celeste, you’ve miscalculated. She isn’t the type you can touch, Theresa." She eyed her. "Which is more than I can say for you."
That landed. Amara saw the twitch in Theresa’s jaw, and the way her throat bobbed like she was choking back words she couldn’t swallow cleanly.
For the first time, Theresa’s confidence faltered visibly. Her eyes flickered, just for a second, before she masked it again.
Theresa snatched up her scarf, knotted it back around her neck with shaking hands, and shoved her sunglasses onto her face. She turned sharply on her heel, her boots crunching against the gravel path.
The dog barked once, chasing after her shadow until she snapped her fingers and hissed at it. The animal stopped, ears folding back, then padded back to Amara with a whine.
Amara stroked its head again. She did it so gently and calmly, until the dog relaxed. Her other hand was still pressed lightly against her stinging cheek. She exhaled slowly, her pulse gradually steadying.
Elias watched all that unfolded. Reluctantly, he pulled his face cap forward, threw his hoodie over his head, and walked away from the tree he sat behind.