15. The girl in yellow

A week passed and the shirt was still inside her closet. She tried to give it back to him the next morning, however, the bakery was closed. And then, a week passed just like that.

For a week, A's Bakery didn't open even for a minute. Many of their regular customers had been knocking on her shop asking about the shop across from hers. However, they quickly left as soon as they entered because of the dark aura coming from behind her.

Amara looked back and saw Vida frowning while trying to arrange some of the flowers she had brought. 

"Why does everyone think you know why they went bankrupt already?" Vida grumbled. "Couldn't they think that perhaps it was because they were gamblers and gambled all their profits and now someone was chasing them so they went on hiding?"

She chuckled, "Not everyone has a wild imagination like you, Miss Vida."

"Wild? It's not wild at all!" She walked to the display rack and searched for a vase. "You know what I felt when I first met that Azer? Like he's someone who's hiding a very huge secret!"

Amara took the mugs she created and brought them near the backdoor where the kiln was. She carefully put them aside on the table. 

"Just be careful with that man, Ara. I don't like him."

Amara nodded to herself. She felt it, too. The first time she met him was at the back of a brothel. She thought he was a customer because he looked like he was chasing someone back then.

"Oh? They're opening now?"

She quickly turned to the glass door. From the gaps in the racks, she saw someone was opening the bakery. She walked to the entrance and peeked from her glass windows.

She frowned when she saw the other guy—the one who always stood by the counter. 

But wait, why did she frown? Did she feel disappointed because it wasn't Azer? Amara turned away and convinced herself that it was because the shirt in her closet was already accumulating spiderwebs.

She continued her job, suppressing the urge to climb upstairs, get the shirt, and hurry across to the bakery to see him.

When Vida delivered her flowers to her customers after lunch, she decided to give the shirt back since it kept bugging her mind. 

She took off the apron and dressed in her usual trousers and a baggy shirt. Tying her wavy auburn hair in a ponytail, she set out and crossed the street carrying a paper bag where his shirt was.

The sign on the door remained 'closed' and hadn't flipped to 'open' yet, thus, she hesitated to enter.

She saw the same guy crouching on the corner, gathering the leftovers in a basket. Amara stood by the door for a few minutes and contemplated.

What if Azer didn't come and only that guy went back? How can she give the shirt to him? She wanted to give it back to him personally. Even if may sound weird, she couldn't understand herself, and she gave up trying to justify all her feelings.

"Do you need something?"

She blinked and saw the guy's head peeking outside the door. She was so lost in thought she didn't even hear him open the door.

Amara hesitated. But when his eyes drifted to the paper bag she was holding, she decided to just ask him.

"I'm looking for A-Azer."

She bit her lips in embarrassment after her voice stuttered. Her hands clenched the paper bag unconsciously as she waited for his answer. Just then, before the guy could answer, the door beside the counter opened and two figures stepped out.

It was the man she was looking for, escorting a beautiful lady wearing a yellow dress. They were talking as they entered. Azer held the door for her while she looked at him with a smile. 

Amara recognized the face. She was the girl she talked to during the bakery's opening day. The girl she always saw buying pastries and talking with Azer.

Her straight and long black hair was decorated with a yellow headband with a ribbon on the side, and her slender neck wore a choker that looked expensive. Her dress perfectly fit in her curvy and slim body. 

She was the complete opposite of her appearance. Her unruly hair was only adorned by a black elastic hair tie she often used in tying her curtains. Her baggy clothes and worn-out trousers were like an outfit one could see from an old man plowing the field.

She felt like a thrown-out ragged doll next to a brand-new expensive one.

"Oh, your—," The guy beside her turned around and saw them. He called out but stopped. Then, he cleared his throat and spoke again. "Ehem. This lady here is looking for you."

Azer had already set his eyes on her. Even though she felt her chest tightened, she couldn't look away. She nodded at him and showed him the paper bag.

"I came to give this back."

She held out the paper bag to the other guy as he was closer to her. The guy accepted and asked her, "Oh? What's inside?"

He tried to open it but then someone grabbed the bag before he could. Azer was already standing by her side. She flinched when he turned around and looked at her. 

Amara wanted to leave now, especially when she saw the beautiful girl whose name was still unknown look at her with interest. The smile on her pretty face disappeared. She suddenly felt uncomfortable.

She turned around saying, "Then, I'll leave now."

However, before she could walk away, her right hand was held back. She looked back and found Azer looking at the girl he came in with.

"I need to talk to her. You both should leave now," he calmly ordered.

"But Azer—"

"Leave."

His voice went colder. The girl in yellow who called out to him flinched from his tone. She frowned and walked to the door. As she walked past Amara, she looked at her sideways with a scrutinizing look that didn't escape Amara's eyes.

Amara was then reminded of the first time they met. The girl smiled at her kindly and even laughed at her remark. Now, the girl seemed like she hated her.

Who was she anyway? Does she have a relationship with Azer?

"You needn't have to give it back."

Amara heard his words and furrowed her brows. She wet her lips before she uttered words to answer.

"You told me it's so expensive that I couldn't afford it," she replied without thinking, her voice sounding accusing. She couldn't help it. If he didn't want her to give it back, then he should have told her to just throw the shirt out. Why asked her to wash it or even pay for it?

Amara looked utterly dispirited. She wanted to go back home, but Azer seemed like he wanted to say something. 

His eyes never left her. 

It used to make her uncomfortable, but after letting go of everything that was holding her back from developing her feelings for him, those eyes became a pair of beacons that always attracted her attention.

It made her flustered and self-conscious.

She averted her eyes in fear that her emotions were starting to display in them.

"I didn't say it to offend you," Azer walked closer. He stopped a step away from her, dropping his gaze on her. Then, he continued, "If you wash it, you'll end up keeping it. If it dries, you'll hang it inside your closet. And every time you get dressed, you'll see it in the corner and then you'll think of me."

Amara was stunned. What was that? What did he mean by that? He sounded like he wanted her head to be filled by only him and him alone. 

His voice sounded possessive and commanding. His eyes were like magnets, she couldn't look away. The gap between them felt like it was becoming smaller and smaller. She stood firm, although her back sweated.

"Were you upset?"

Amara blinked, and stuttered, "Wha…What?"

"After you saw me with that woman, were you upset?"

She recalled him walking in with the girl in yellow.

"Do you feel asking me who it was? Does it bother you?"

Azer inched closer. His hand caressed her face. She flinched from the sudden contact and the warmth of his hand. But she didn't hate it. She stayed frozen, listening to him while following his eyes.

When his hand reached her left temple, she snapped into that trance and quickly held his hand which was already touching her mask.

"N-No…" she muttered nervously. She knew he already saw her scar from afar, but having him see it closer made her anxious. She cupped his hand on her face and mumbled her protest.