Danish smiled cynically as he watched the line of visitors at the bookstore. Lovesick fans who were fascinated by the fictional characters created by Amora. Hah, they were so enthusiastic that they were willing to stand in line just to get the author's autograph. What was so special about a scribble on the first page of a novel? To Danish, it wasn't much different from something anyone could write.
Look at them. Even when some of them had to shove each other and accidentally step on one another's feet, they still wouldn't give up. They kept standing there, following the store clerk's instructions to form a neat line. See that skinny girl who'd just been carried away after fainting? Good grief, was this an autograph line or a food-assistance line?
"How good are her novels?" Danish tapped the shoulder of the girl standing at the very back of the line.
The girl gasped. Her narrow eyes lit up as she stared at Danish. As usual, Danish's sharp-featured face often left girls spellbound. "They're really good. Miss Amora knows how to draw readers into the world of her stories. You've never read her novels?"
"I don't have the taste for cheesy romances like that."
"They're not just cheesy romances." The braided girl looked excited as she continued. "This novel is also about family and friendship."
"Is that all that's special about it?"
"Of course not. The best part is that Miss Amora always knows how to create handsome characters, so we can delude ourselves into thinking they're our online husbands." The girl let out a clear, bright laugh.
Danish snorted. The author and her readers were equally crazy.
"Um ... you know?" The girl spoke again. "A handsome guy like you looks exactly like one of the characters in her novels."
Danish ran a hand through his hair, then walked away after the girl winked at him. He approached the shelf marked bestsellers and picked up a novel titled Woman and a Rose.
Danish had no interest in reading. Yet for some reason, the cover, which showed a woman's hand clutching a single rose, caught his attention. The drop of blood in her grasp seemed to carry a profound meaning. No, the cover didn't merely depict the book's contents. It was as though Amora wanted to tell the story of the wounds inside her without saying so outright.
Remember how Amora had never been afraid of death? That girl was wounded. Deeply. And she didn't know where to run. She didn't know whom to lean on. Believe him, Danish wasn't pretending to know everything, but he had seen the wounded look in Amora's eyes.
At exactly 11:00 a.m., the book-signing session ended. Danish followed Amora as she walked toward the mall's basement. Keeping several paces behind her, Danish could clearly see her checking her phone repeatedly, her steps growing more hurried. Was she meeting someone?
Danish's suspicion proved correct. A casually dressed man wearing a hat and a mask that covered part of his face stood straight beside Amora's car. Judging by his tall, sturdy build, it was definitely Doctor Andre. Yup! That secret meeting again! Good grief, what a naughty girl!
Danish hid behind a building support pillar and watched the secret lovers' every move. This time, they got into Amora's car. Who knew what they were doing in there? A minute passed, and there was still no sign of them ending their meeting. The car remained closed up.
Five minutes later, Danish began to get bored. He boldly came out of hiding and half-ran toward the car, then knocked on the window. "Miss Amora!"
The window slowly rolled halfway down, and Amora glared at Danish. "Who are you?"
"I missed the book-signing session. Can I get your autograph?" Danish held up Woman and a Rose.
"I'm in a hurry. Sorry, you should've asked for my autograph during the book signing."
"Earlier, huh? Actually, I've been waiting for someone here this whole time. I rented his apartment, but I don't have access to it yet. He has to give me a ride. Otherwise, I think uploading a few videos would be a lot of fun."
Andre, who had been silent until then, leaned forward and fixed Danish with a sharp stare. "Sorry, bro! Amora doesn't want to give you her autograph."
"Wow, is this your boyfriend?" Danish pointed at Andre with the tip of his chin. "Wait, he looks familiar."
"Okay, I'll sign it." Amora turned her gaze to Andre. "Andre, you can go home now. I'm fine."
"Are you sure? I want to take you home."
"No need. I'm fine. I'll go straight home and rest afterward."
"Okay. I'll leave after you sign the novel." Andre leaned forward and whispered in Amora's ear. "He doesn't look like a good guy."
Amora nodded. Without another word, she took the novel from Danish's hand and scrawled her signature on the first page. "You can wait for your friend by the exit. It must be awfully boring here."
"Okay, thanks." Danish took back his novel and waved before running away from Amora's car.
He didn't have to wait long at the exit before Amora's car drove past and stopped in front of him. Danish hurried inside and sat beside Amora.
"You really can't let my life be peaceful for even a second," Arabella grumbled as she stepped on the gas.
"Can't we go one day without fighting? I'm only trying to save you. You met Doctor Andre in a place like this. What if people start suspecting the two of you?"
"Every second, we're always arguing about the same thing. Please, Danish! Don't interfere in my affairs, okay? If you're willing to stop bothering me, I won't interfere with your privacy either, and you can stay in my apartment for the next month."
The offer was tempting, but it left Danish torn. What should he do? On one hand, he desperately needed a place to hide. On the other, he felt guilty about lying to Keysha. By now, Keysha should have known who her brother-in-law's mistress was.
Tell me, was hiding the truth a crime? Danish didn't condone an affair, but this time he had no other choice. It wasn't because Danish was selfish, hiding the truth to save his own life. There was one reason he wanted to remain by Amora's side. Woman and a Rose. That wound wasn't merely an illusion; it was real.
Yeah, Danish saw it clearly. Amora nimbly worked the steering wheel. The sleeves of the girl's knitted sweater were rolled up to her elbows, revealing a line of cuts on her left wrist. What had Amora gone through to hurt herself like that?
"The scar on your hand—"
"An accident when I was little," Amora cut him off in a flat voice.
"Oh ...." Danish knitted his brows. He knew Amora was lying. The long, neat scar was far too clean to be called an accident. And the flat voice that had nearly caught in her throat a few seconds ago had revealed a truth she hadn't said aloud.
"Stop asking me anything about myself."
"When I want to hope but am afraid of being disappointed, I eventually choose to get hurt."
Amora slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to an abrupt stop. She turned to Danish with a sour expression.
"I was only quoting one of the lines on the first page of your novel," Danish said. He pointed to the novel on the dashboard. "Do you always like slamming on the brakes? Hey, that's dangerous. The motorcycle behind us almost hit your car."
"Do you always like meddling in other people's privacy?"
"No. Of course, only yours. You keep secrets, and without realizing it, you've pulled me into the circle of your life. Okay, if you're uncomfortable with that, I'll slowly back off and distance myself from your private life. Yeah, even though we'll be living under the same roof, we'll be walking separate paths."
Amora didn't answer. She didn't respond with either a shake or a nod. Instead, the girl decided to pull down her sweater sleeve, covering the scar on her wrist again. Then the car started moving once more, though now the two of them sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.