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A M A Y A

I book an Uber as soon as Kyle and Stephen leave and the ride to Carter's penthouse in an Uber is one of trepidation.

Once I reach his building, I rush to the elevators.

Typing the password takes another three minutes because my mind is a mess of worrying scenarios. I am shaking as the doors slide open into his penthouse.

The first thing I see is the couch, immediately recalling flashes of seeing Carter and Molly a few hours ago. Shaking my head off the horrid image in my head, I walk straight to where I know Carter's bedroom is.

The door is open and at first glance, I spot Dawson leaning over the bed.

I have been to Carter's bedroom only once and it is a dark space with mostly black and grey colors adorning every object. The walls are a mix of certain pastel colors which provide the only soft touch to the cave. His black stereo stands out beside his television set.

I stop at the door as Dawson presses a wet cloth over the forehead of the man lying in the king-sized bed. Carter is writhing in it, still dressed in the same clothes I saw him before, except there are wet patches all over his body. He is sweaty and shivering.

I almost stumble at the scene, my back hitting the door which makes Dawson turn to me.

He is dressed only in his shirt and a pair of trousers. The sleeves of his shirt are folded to his elbows and the look on his face is one of genuine stress. When he sees me, his visage lights up a little.

"Amaya! Thank goodness you're here!" he exclaims, walking towards me with brisk speed.

I am startled to the core when the huge man presses me to his chest, engulfing me in a hug so tight it almost churns my insides. I am squished in his hold, unable to decipher the meaning of the gesture.

"Dawson..." I gasp as he pulls away after a few seconds.

"Amaya, you gotta see him. He's a mess," he says, running a hand friskily over his face.

I look at Carter who does look extremely sick. His skin has never been this pale before. He is mumbling something in his sleep which is not clear.

I slowly move towards the bed to stop beside him. I reach a hand up, touching his forehead which is not that hot but still burning a little. Carter's body jerks up but his eyes don't open.

"Pleasebringher...back..." he mumbles.

I narrow my eyebrows, looking up at Dawson. The man looks close to crying.

"He has a fever. He'll be okay in the morning," I tell him. "You didn't have to call me for this, Dawson."

My words are harsh but I can't stop them. Carter has broken my heart enough for me to not wish to suffer more. I only wish to forget him now and keep living the life I lived with my son before he stormed in.

"Amaya..please don't go," Dawson pleads, looking dejected at my refusal to stay.

I ignore him and am about to move from the bed, when a hand grabs my wrist, causing me to trip.

"Amaya!" Carter shouts, jumping from the bed and wrapping both his arms around me.

I look at him with widened eyes, shocked by what just happened. Carter doesn't let me fall though as he holds my hands, his eyes finally open as he kneels before me.

"Carter?"

I touch his arms as he blinks at me. He is sweating all over, looking like he is in a frenzy. Panic causes my belly to flutter.

"Amaya...please...please don't go...I..." he says, his hands constantly grabbing for every part of my body he can reach. His voice is weak; his movements are feeble. "I...I didn't mean it...I didn't mean to do it...It wasn't me...please..."

"Carter..." I cup his face between my hands, trying to knock him out of the state he is in. "Carter...look at me..."

"Amaya...please...don't leave me...Please...don't leave me...please...snippy..."

His face is turning red and the more seconds pass, the hotter his body grows. Tension tightens my nerves. I glance at Dawson, my eyes begging him for help. Fogginess clouds my vision as my heart clenches. Carter has stopped talking now but his lips part every few seconds as if he is trying to talk. His body slacks, causing a small scream to erupt from my throat when he falls back with me in his arms.

"Medicines, Amaya," Dawson says. "He's not in his senses. Help me feed him the medicines. He needs them."

"Yes..."

I attempt to lift Carter with me as I stand but his weight is unbearable to me. Dawson steps in, lifting one of Carter's arms over his shoulder and pulling him up. I hold Carter's other arm, hearing him continuing to mumble stuff in his sick daze.

Carter sniffs my hair when he feels me close, which ultimately leads to his hold around my shoulder tightening.

"Am...is that you?"

His voice is gruff, a sick hollowness resonating in it. It is so weak that I feel the need to cry about his situation. I have never seen Carter this bad. He rarely ever got sick but this is the first time he is out of his mind due to something we cannot understand.

I nod without meeting his gaze as Dawson and I prop him back on the bed. Dawson helps Carter lay down while I grab the wet cloth on the bedside table. I sit by his side, one hand resting above his chest as I use the cloth to gently rub his face.

Dawson pulls the sheet back over Carter's body. He breathes hard, his fingers curled around one of my wrists.

"Amaya...you're here...please..." he whispers with his eyes closed. "...don't go, snippy."

"I'm not going anywhere, Carter," I assure him, leaning forward until my face is hovering over his while Dawson prepares his medicines. I stroke Carter's face with one hand, trying to calm him down. "Carter...you need to take the medicines, okay? Promise me you will."

"I'd do anything...Am..." he murmurs. "...anything for you..."

"Good..." I remove the sticky strands of his hair from his forehead as my eyes fill with tears. "That's my Carter."

"Always...Am..."

Dawson stands by the bed, forwarding me the glass of water and pill Carter is supposed to take. The moment those words leave Carter's mouth, however, Dawson seems to go still. His eyes land on my face as a sunken half-smile curves his lips.

We both know what happens at that moment. The big man had never been sure if I still had feelings for my ex but now he is.

Now he knows too.

I will always love Carter. No matter how far apart our hearts are.

***

Half an hour later, after forcing Carter to swallow his medicines and finally putting him to sleep, Dawson and I take our places on both sides of the bed. Dawson sits right opposite me on a chair he carried with one arm from the dining place. He has his elbows resting on his knees, watching me tend to Carter.

"Amaya," he says suddenly, causing me to lift my eyes to his face.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry if this sounds too straightforward but I need to ask-" He bites his bottom lip, staring at his lap as if hesitating. "What did you see? I know Carter was here with Molly, who very conveniently disappeared before I reached up with Carter. Did something happen? I have never seen Carter this frantic."

His question is like a needle to my skin. My hands around Carter's face move away on their own, the realization of why I didn't want to come here in the first place coming back to me. I slide a little further away from Carter. But even in his unconscious state, he feels my movement.

He grabs hold of my knee with one hand, before turning his body towards my warmth. His arms move around my waist, encasing me in a protective hold. I am stunned while Dawson quirks his lips to a smirk, amused by my reaction.

"Don't smirk like that..." I blurt out, taking offense to his reaction. "Carter's not as obsessed with me as you think he is. If that were the case, he wouldn't be getting blown by Molly Delacruz."

Dawson's eyebrows rise with the information. His body straightens in his seat as his face goes through a plethora of emotions from shocked to confused to doubtful. My jaw is fixed as I wait for him to defend Carter again just like I know he would.

"Carter would never do that!" He proves me right by his declaration.

"Doesn't change what I saw Dawson," I respond in a flat tone. "He was there and Molly was sucking him off. I ain't blind, okay? The worst part is that Carter seemed to be completely into it."

"I don't believe it."

He shakes his head, his voice carrying a surprising determination.

"More like you don't want to believe it. I have known Carter for years, Dawson. I know him better than you do."

That seems to be a blow to his ego. He gives me a threatening glare and flings himself up from his chair. With one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his chin, he moves to and fro, looking tensed by the conversation.

"No...you're wrong!" he says, stopping as he turns to face me. "I have known Carter for five years and the only woman he has ever loved is you."

"And what's the proof of that?" I can't help but grit my teeth as anger tickles my nerves. "If he loved me so much, he wouldn't have left. He left because he stopped loving me. That's the only reason that makes sense to me. He only wants to take Parker from me now and that's why he's pretending to be so into me."

"Do you even hear yourself, Amaya?" Dawson drops his hands from his hips, his eyes narrowing down upon me. "I have known Carter for five fucking years. He is like my brother. You know, in fact...he is my brother."

I blink at him, taken aback by the declaration. I have known the theory of bromance exists in real life but the way Dawson says it, with that sound of surety in his voice, makes it sound like he is stating a fact instead of just an emotional attachment.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean he is my brother, Amaya," he sighs heavily, his shoulders dropping a little. "I was adopted by his grandfather years ago when there was no known information about the whereabouts of Carter's family. I was a servant's kid when Mr. Bell took a kind look after my father, who was my only family member, died of lung disease. I was supposed to inherit Mr. Bell's property before Carter presented himself so suddenly in our lives."

The reveal lingers heavily between us. What Dawson says sounds like the truth but if that is the case, then Dawson should be anything but Carter's friend or brother. The situation between them stands more suited for animosity.

"You mean to tell me that Carter suddenly getting all of Mr. Bell's property didn't knock you off track? You think I'd believe that? No one's that saint, Dawson."

"Not everything is bound to happen like the movies, Amaya," he retorts. "You as a mature person should understand that. I had no interest in Mr. Bell's property. I'm nearly ten years older than Carter. I only wanted a place to live, an education, and a family. When Carter showed up, it was a relief for me because I was in no position to be in charge of Mr. Bell's business. I didn't have any interest in that field."

"Why should I believe you?"

He frowns at me, giving me a dirty look. I am pretty sure the tension in the room has escalated. He walks around the bed and drops back in his chair. He leans back, spreading his legs over the area between his chair and the bed.

"I don't want to argue with you, Amaya. It's clear you and I have different opinions about Carter but here's something I can be sure of..." Our gazes meet and he leans forward, a blank look over his face telling me that he is serious. "Whatever you saw between Molly and Carter was a misunderstanding and if it was really happening, then I'm pretty sure Carter didn't have a say in it."

"You mean he didn't know that he was getting a blow job?"

"No, I don't mean that but if he was getting it from Molly, then there is something else we don't know yet. Like I said before, I have never seen Carter this bad."

A bad feeling gets into my chest. Alertness roams my mind as I look at Carter's figure on the bed who is now snoring lightly. He is oblivious to our conversation, holding me tight. He was afraid that I would disappear again and the way he had been calling for me was scary.

I recall the weekend we shared - so lost in each other. After that, the fact that he would cheat on me is something that is almost too fatal to be believable. I believed it anyway. Carter never even talked about Molly. I only met her in the office and he told me clearly that he wasn't into her.

Why would he cheat on me with her then? Unless...

"You..." My throat hurts as I try to speak because the conclusion I am coming up to is chilling. "Do you mean to say he was assaulted?"

Dawson doesn't reply but his silence speaks words.

I feel myself shatter as I look at Carter. He looks so utterly fragile, so much in pain.

Fuck...I should have doubted it at least. I never even gave him a chance.

Dawson must see the inner battle I am going through because he gets up from his seat and starts to head towards the door.

"I'm going down to make sure the private elevators are secure," he says. "Once Carter is back in his senses, things will be clearer. Till then, stay with him."

When I meet his gaze, I am holding a desperate cry within me.

"Please?" he adds, giving me a barely-there smile.

I move my sight back to Carter, without replying to Dawson. I cannot speak. It is like I have lost my voice. I only want to cry.

Dawson doesn't force me to speak either. He quietly opens the door and walks out, pulling it shut behind him, and leaving me alone with Carter.

The lights in the room are dim, casting a gloomy glow upon both of us. In the dull lighting, I move closer to him, my face looming above his as a shadow.

"I'm sorry, baby..." I whisper in the silence as a teardrop slides down my cheek to brand his forehead.