Page 155 of Soulmateless
"Hey Amias. It's me. Glaide. I just want to make sure my friend is okay. I brought some ribs over."
Still I stay in my bed. I just want Ignatia back.
It falls silent in my bedroom. My head is on my pillow, imagining that Ignatia is beside me. I imagine her beautiful rings of fire staring back at me. My fingers remember how her waist feels and my lips yearn for her passionate kiss.
I hope she's okay…
There's another knock. I don't even lift my head. I just reach out beside me, as if Ignatia were physically there. I pretend to stroke her cheek.
"Amee!"
The sweet little voice does make me snap from my thoughts. I look over to the open door of my bedroom, listening carefully.
“Come out!"
I groan. They aren't seriously baiting me with Sabina, are they?
My bones feel heavy, as if they were carved from metal. I force myself up from bed, and drag my feet down the hallway to the living room, stopping at the front door. "I'm coming, Sourdough."
I walk to the door and open it to see not only Mother holding Sabina, but Father, Glaide and Erasmus crowding around. Just smiling, waiting to come in.
"Oh thank Cosmo, you're still alive in there!" Mother says, placing a hand on her chest. "I was beginning to worry."
"I still have those ribs, if you haven't eaten yet." Glaide adds, holding out a plastic container with dark red sauce.
I don't respond to them, but look at Sabina, who raises a brow at everyone. I smile at her. She's innocent and doesn't deserve to be here in this mess. “Sourdough," I whisper.
I reach out for her, and she stretches her arms out towards me coming to my arms. She cocks her head slightly as I bring her inside. "You look tired," she says with her famous sour pout.
I titter. "I am a little." I don't even bother to look behind me as everyone else steps through the door. “It was hard sleeping last night."
"You need to go to bed.”
"I know, but everyone is waking me up!" I give a side eye to everyone in the room.
"Really?" Sabina pouts.
"Really."
"Everyone! Stop waking Amee up!" she yells to everyone, balling up her fists.
I snicker. "You tell them, Sourdough."
"Amias, we should really address your mental health," Mother says. Creaking comes from the soft white couch on the far end of the room. "I’ve been looking at a bunch of therapists, and I thought maybe I should discuss them with you."
Ignoring her, I look to my fridge a few steps away in my open kitchen. It's in the same cream color as the cabinets. "You want some bread, Sourdough?"
"Yeah!" she exclaims.
"Alright then." Despite my heavy feet, I drag us over to the refrigerator, where I have some homemade bread slices on the shelf, ready to eat in a small container. I reach through the cold blue tinted barrier and hand her one. "Let me know what you think."
"Amias, don't ignore your mother!" Father scolds.
Sabina flinches at my Father's scolding. I sigh and look up at Father. "I don't care who you chose."
"Can you at least discuss it with her?" he growls. "She's trying to help you."
"I just think a proper diagnosis and having someone private to talk to about your feelings may help," Mother murmurs, her brows scrunching together.
