Chapter 21 Chapter 21
Amber
Dr. Ichika’s eyes darkened with concern, but she didn’t interrupt.
“Those horrible Alphas kidnapped me,” I continued, my voice shaking. “They dragged me to an abandoned building. They… they…”
The words wouldn’t come. My throat felt like it was closing up, and my chest heaved with sobs.
“You don’t have to say it,” Dr. Ichika said softly, her voice full of understanding.
I nodded, clutching the tissue like it was a lifeline. “It was so brutal, so excruciating that I passed out. I thought I was going to die. But someone must have found me and brought me to the hospital. I don’t even know who.”
The room fell silent except for my ragged breathing. Dr. Ichika let me cry, her presence steady and comforting.
When I finally calmed down, she spoke. “Amber, what happened to you was horrific, and no one should ever have to endure what you did. But you’re still here. You survived. And that tells me just how strong you are.”
I wiped my tears, my chest still aching. “But the bond… It’s always there. I can’t escape it.”
Dr. Ichika’s gaze softened. “The bond between fated mates is unbreakable, that’s true. But that doesn’t mean you have to let it define your life. You can still move forward, Amber. You can live a full, happy life far away from Rayne. You don’t need him to survive.”
Her words were gentle but firm, and for the first time, I felt a tiny sliver of hope.
“You’re a gem, Amber,” she continued. “And one day, Rayne will realize what he’s lost. But by then, you’ll have built a life so beautiful, you won’t even need his validation.”
I wanted to believe her. I really did. But the pain and betrayal still loomed over me like a dark cloud.
“I’ll help you,” Dr. Ichika said. “Starting tomorrow, we’ll begin intensive therapy sessions. Together, we’ll work through your trauma, step by step. I’ll support you every step of the way, in any way you need.”
Her words wrapped around me like a warm embrace.
“And one more thing,” she added, her voice softening. “You’ve never had the chance to experience what it’s like to have a mother. If you’ll let me, I’d be honored to be that for you.”
Her words hit me like a tidal wave, and I broke down again, this time in gratitude. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Thank you so much.”
She opened her arms, and I didn’t hesitate. I threw myself into her embrace, clinging to her like a lifeline.
After a while, she pulled back, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “Now, let’s do something fun. How about we make lunch together?”
I blinked, surprised by the sudden change in tone. “Lunch?”
“Yes. I was thinking ramen. Ever made it from scratch?”
I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. “No, but I’d like to try.”
“Then let’s get started,” she said, standing and holding out her hand.
I smiled and took her hand. Meeting her has been the best that's happened to me.
Dr. Ichika led me into the kitchen, which was just as beautiful as the rest of her home. Marble countertops gleamed under the warm light, and the cabinets were painted in a soft cream color. Everything smelled faintly of herbs and spices, and the space felt inviting, like it was meant to be filled with laughter and life.
“Okay,” she said, rolling up her sleeves. “We’re going to make Ichiran ramen. It’s my specialty.”
I tilted my head. “Ichiran? I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never had it before.”
“You’re in for a treat,” she said with a grin, pulling out ingredients from the fridge. “We’re making it from scratch, so you’ll learn all the secrets.”
Her enthusiasm was contagious, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a flicker of excitement. I watched as she laid everything out: fresh noodles, pork belly, green onions, eggs, and a variety of sauces and spices I couldn’t begin to name.
“Do I get a specific job?” I asked, stepping closer to the counter.
“You do,” she said, handing me a knife. “You’re in charge of chopping the green onions. Think you can handle that?”
I nodded, feeling oddly proud to be trusted with something so simple. “I think I can manage.”
As I carefully chopped the green onions, Dr. Ichika began preparing the broth. The rich aroma of simmering pork bones, garlic, and spices filled the kitchen, making my stomach growl loudly.
She laughed, glancing over her shoulder. “Someone’s hungry!”
I felt my cheeks heat up. “I can’t help it. It smells amazing.”
“Just wait until you taste it,” she teased, stirring the pot.
We worked side by side, and for the first time in a while, I didn’t feel like I was walking on eggshells. Dr. Ichika’s calm, nurturing presence made everything feel lighter, easier. She hummed softly as she worked, explaining each step as if I were a student in a cooking class.
“When I was younger, my husband and I used to go out for ramen all the time,” she said, cracking an egg into a pot of boiling water. “He’s the reason I learned to make it. He said homemade ramen was the key to his heart.”
I smiled, curious. “Where is he now?”
“On a business trip,” she replied. “He’s always traveling for work, but he makes up for it when he’s home. He’s the sweetest man.” Her eyes softened, and I could see how much she loved him.
The conversation drifted to other topics as we worked. She told me funny stories about her husband’s failed attempts at cooking, her own journey to becoming a doctor, and even her secret love for cheesy romantic comedies.
By the time we finished, I was laughing so hard I had to hold onto the counter for support. It was the kind of laughter that left you breathless, the kind I hadn’t felt in years.
We sat down at the table with steaming bowls of ramen, and I took my first bite. The flavors exploded in my mouth—savory, rich, and just the right amount of spice.
“This is amazing,” I said, my eyes wide.
Dr. Ichika beamed. “I told you. Nothing beats homemade ramen.”
As we ate, I couldn’t help but watch her. She was everything I wanted to be—strong, kind, and endlessly compassionate. She had this warmth about her that made people feel safe, like they belonged.
In that moment, I made a silent promise to myself.
I would fight. Not just for myself, but for the tiny life growing inside me. For the future I still had ahead of me.
I would fight through the darkness, through the fear and the pain, until I was strong enough to stand on my own two feet. I wanted to be like Dr. Ichika—someone who helped others, who made a difference.
Someday, I would save lives.
And as I took another bite of ramen, the thought began to solidify. Irma nudged me in support and I knew instantly that I could make it possible.