Chapter 152 – Amara POV
Lunch With Arya
"Amara, you're here!" Arya beamed, pulling me into a hug the second I stepped into her house.
Her arms were warm, her house smelled like freshly baked pastries and lavender oil, and the entire space felt like a big, soft hug. That's the best thing about Arya—she always made you feel like coming over was the best part of her day.
"You look beautiful," she said, closing the door behind me.
"You say that every time," I laughed.
"Because it's always true." She winked and led me toward the kitchen. "Come in. Damon's out with Liam, so it's just us girls. I made spaghetti and meatballs, grilled buffalo wings, and those soft rolls you like."
"Ooh, you spoil me."
"Someone has to," she teased, nudging me gently.
But as soon as the scent of the food hit my nose, I paused. My stomach flipped—and not in the good way. I blinked, swallowing hard as nausea crawled up my throat out of nowhere.
"Everything okay?" Arya asked.
"Yeah… yeah, just a little lightheaded," I mumbled, forcing a smile. "Didn't sleep well."
"Sit. I'll serve you."
I nodded and took the chair near the window. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, warm and golden, making everything feel cozy and safe. Arya chatted happily as she fixed our plates, and I tried to listen—but my stomach kept twisting like it was doing cartwheels.
She placed a steaming plate of food in front of me, and that was when I knew I couldn't do it.
"Arya," I croaked, standing up abruptly.
"Amara?"
I didn't respond. I bolted to the bathroom.
She followed quickly, concern on her face, but waited outside while I leaned over the toilet bowl, heaving up the toast and tea I'd had earlier. My whole body shook, and my eyes watered as the wave of nausea rolled over me.
When I finally finished and sat back on the cool tile floor, Arya was there, holding a cup of water and a small towel.
"Here," she whispered, crouching beside me.
"Thanks," I mumbled, wiping my mouth. "That was dramatic."
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Must be a stomach bug or something."
Arya didn't say anything right away. She just watched me with those clear, thoughtful eyes. Eyes that saw everything, even when I tried to hide it.
"You've been sick a lot lately, haven't you?"
I shrugged. "Not that much…"
"Ethan told me you haven't had much of an appetite. But last week, you came over and practically devoured three croissants in one sitting."
I chuckled weakly. "Okay, that one's fair."
"Amara," she said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder, "you've been tired, nauseous, moody, and eating like a teenage boy during growth spurts."
I blinked.
"You sure it's not something more than a bug?"
My laugh came out a little too loud. "What are you saying? That I'm… pregnant?" I shook my head. "No way. That's not it."
She tilted her head. "You sound sure."
"I mean… I don't know." I frowned. "We've been careful. I've just been stressed, I guess."
Arya didn't push. She never did. She just nodded and helped me up.
"Let's just say," she said gently as we washed our hands together, "that maybe you should take a test. Just to be sure."
I gave her a tired smile. "Maybe."
After a few minutes of fresh air and sips of water, I felt better. Arya insisted I lie on the couch while she cleaned up the kitchen and brought me some crackers.
As I nibbled on them, my mind wandered.
Could it be…?
No. No, it didn't feel like that. I didn't feel pregnant. Just… weird. Off-balance. A little tired. Maybe a little emotional—but that could just be hormones. Right?
I closed my eyes and sighed.
When Arya came back, she didn't bring it up again. Instead, she talked about Liam's obsession with space, how he wanted to build a rocket out of cereal boxes. We laughed, and I let the conversation pull me back into normalcy.
But her words lingered long after I got home.
Could it be?