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Chapter Seven
Huling Na-update:
2025-02-26 13:25:47
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Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Eight
ššš„šš§šThe cab smells faintly of stale leather and cheap air freshener. I sit curled against the window as the morning fog hangs low over the streets, blurring the corners of buildings and streetlights. Tiny beads of moisture cling to the cab window, streaking slightly as the car moves. I watch them absentmindedly, my thoughts just as heavy as the damp air outside.Another day. Another appointment. Another round of cautious optimism. Another chance for disappointment to sink its teeth into me.I shouldnāt hope, but I do. Every single time.The cab jerks to a stop in front of the hospital, the familiar white building looming before me. I swallow the lump in my throat, fumbling in my purse for cash. My fingers tremble slightly as I hand the cabbie the rumpled money, my pulse thrumming in my ears."Keep the change," I mutter, pushing the door open.Cold air bites at my cheeks as I step out. The hospital doors stand just a few feet away, but I hesitate, staring up at the building lik
Huling Na-update : 2025-02-26Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Nine
ššš„šš§šI step off the bus, adjusting the strap of my purse as I start the familiar walk back to my apartment. I've only walked past a few houses when a chill suddenly creeps down my spine, having absolutely nothing to do with the cold.Iām not sure what sets me off firstāthe way the air suddenly feels heavier or the prickling sensation at the back of my neck. But the moment I stop to listen closely, I hear it.Footsteps. Slow. Careful. Too careful. Like they have purpose.My breath hitches, and my fingers tighten around the strap of my bag. It could be nothingāsomeone else walking home or going for an evening strollābut my gut tells me otherwise.Forcing my legs to keep a steady pace, I walk faster, my heart pounding with every step. The streets arenāt deserted, but theyāre quiet enough that every little noise feels amplified.I turn the corner onto my street, my building in sight. Almost there.But my heart lurches when the footsteps behind me seem to pick up speed, closing in.
Huling Na-update : 2025-02-26Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Ten
ššš„šš§šStanding before the full-length mirror in my room, I smooth my hands over the silky, cream dress Iād chosen for tonight's occasion. Soft and elegant, despite coming from a clearance rack, it fits snugly yet remains modest. Understated. And exactly what I need to blend in tonight. After that dreadful night few months ago, wearing anything remotely revealing feels impossible.My makeup is minimalālight foundation, a hint of blush, and soft nude gloss. Nothing too bold or attention-grabbing. My choice of jewelry is a pair of delicate silver earrings and a matching bracelet on my wrist. I tilt my head slightly, studying my reflection. My midnight-black hair is swept into a neat bun, with a few stray curls left to frame my face. It doesnāt exactly make me unrecognizable, but it'll have to do.Through the mirror, I spot my best friend behind me, leaning against my bedroom doorway with her arms crossed, a knowing smirk tugging on her lips. āI must say you clean up real nicely,
Huling Na-update : 2025-02-28Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Eleven
ššš„šš§šMarcosās car slows to a smooth stop in front of an estate straight out of a European aristocratās dream. Towering Corinthian columns rise along the grand faƧade, their pristine white stone carved with intricate lines and details that tell of a wealth spanning generations. A stately pediment crowns the entrance, adorned with elegant reliefs, while wrought-iron balconies curve above tall, arched windows that gleam beneath the chandelier-lit interior. The mansionās pristine symmetry, from its ornate cornices to the black mansard roof edged with decorative railings, exudes a timeless authority.At the heart of the circular driveway, a tiered marble fountain cascades in soft ripples, the sound blending with the distant hum of classical music being played inside. Sculpted hedges and ornate lampposts frame the path leading to the grand staircase, where a set of gleaming double doors await beneath an opulent glass chandelier.Against the backdrop of the dark but starry night sky,
Huling Na-update : 2025-02-28Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Twelve
ššš„šš§šItās only been a little over an hour, yet Iām already exhausted and about ready to call it a night.So far, Marcos has spent the majority of the time introducing me to peopleābusiness associates and some family friendsāall equally pretentious. Iāve smiled, nodded, and played along, enduring the faux interest in me and overly polite small talk, all while dreading the moment Iād inevitably have to meet his parents. The idea of facing them, and of being scrutinized by two of the most renowned figures in the medical world, had weighed on me the entire evening.Until I'd overheard a passing conversation, which I confirmed from Marcos himself. Apparently, his parents were out of the continent on a business assignment to Africa, which is the main reason for this dinner party since it doubles as a fund-raising event. A wave of relief had washed over me so fast I nearly sagged in place when I'd heard. There will be no awkward introductions. No icy stares. And since I'm only here f
Huling Na-update : 2025-02-28Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Thirteen
ššš„šš§šOnce inside the bathroom, I turn to the mirror, peeling his jacket off my shoulders. And then I see it.My dress.The cream-colored silk fabric has turned sheer from the spilled drink, clinging to me in a way that leaves almost nothing to the imagination.Oh my God.I slap a hand over my mouth in shock and mortification. That explains why Marcos had looked at me like that. Thatās why he'd reacted so quickly, covering me up before anyone else could see what he had.Heat flares up my neck, all the way to my ears as embarrassment fills me.Grimacing, I grab some paper towels, dabbing at the stain, but all I manage to do is make the fabric look even worse. āSeriously?ā I mutter, feeling the sting of frustrated tears prick my eyes.Gone is the satisfaction from putting Meagan in her place. This night is officially a disaster.The bathroom door swings open, and I tense, instinctively stepping toward a stall to avoid any further scrutiny. But before I can slip inside, a voice st
Huling Na-update : 2025-02-28Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Fourteen
ššš„šš§šTonight's shift is turning out to be a slow and uneventful oneājust another night of playing melodies for an audience that barely pays attention. Which I'm really thankful for because after the whirlwind of events that's become my life lately, especially with the drama at the party over the weekend, I crave some silence and normalcy, in which I'm treated as the background noise and not the centre of attention when those three enigmatic men are around. No tension. No smouldering stares or teasing winks. I can only hope that this peace lasts all night, though. But, of course, the universe is always out to give me the opposite of what I want because a few minutes later, the front doors to The Gilded Stag are pushed open and in strides a familiar figureāthe third man that makes up the trio of friends. Nathaniel Ford.Out of the three of them, Nathaniel is the only one who hasn't yet approached me or tried to talk to me. And while I would've concluded that it means that unli
Huling Na-update : 2025-02-28Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Fifteen
His smirk is the first thing I noticeālazy, cruel and mocking. Itās the same smirk he always wore when he made my life hell. The same one heād had before I finally escaped him. Escaped all of them.My pulse roars in my ears. How? Why? Of all the countries in Europe, of all the places in this city of London, what are the chances that he would visit Mayfair and walk into this particular restaurant at night when I'm on duty?I stiffen as he leans closer to his friends, muttering something while keeping his eyes locked on mine. Their laughter follows a moment later as two of them turn in my direction before letting out wolf whistles that have me flushing in embarrassment. I donāt even need to hear the words to know exactly what he said to them. I know Tyler.I grit my teeth and try to focus on the piano, but it proves to be impossible as I'm reminded of what he did to me and how I hadn't even known about it until I'd heard it from Stella that day. How he'd seen me naked, touched me and do
Huling Na-update : 2025-02-28
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Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Sixty
šš«ššš”šI sit behind the wheel, fingers drumming restlessly against the steering. For the tenth time, I check the time on the dashboard. Sheās not lateānot really. But my nerves are a different story.At her insistence, todayās outing is to be strictly casual. No romance, no pressure, no expectations. I tried to pick the most un-date-like date imaginable. So, football. The one place people shout themselves hoarse, spill overpriced beer on each other, and wear matching jerseys without anyone batting an eye.Still, even with all the effort to keep things simple, Iām nervous. Because itās her.Then, I see her car pull into the lot.She steps out, and everything slows. Sheās wearing the team jersey Iād sent herāred and white, the same as mineāpaired with light blue jeans and white sneakers. Casual. Effortless. Gorgeous.She tosses me a small smirk as she approaches. āDonāt look so surprised, doctor. I do own casual clothes.āāYouāre sure youāre not secretly trying to outshine the pla
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Fifty-Nine
šš«ššš”šHis office is still the calm, neat space I remember, though now I notice how strikingly organized it is. The books on the shelf are arranged alphabetically, a soft lavender-scented diffuser hums in the corner, and a small bonsai tree sits by the window like a gentle sentinel. Thereās not a single paper out of place, every pen lined up with precision. Itās the kind of space that mirrors Marcus himselfācomposed, measured, and quietly meticulous.He closes the door behind me and gestures to the chair opposite his desk. I sink into it wordlessly as he moves around, taking his usual seat behind the desk and resting both hands on the surface like heās bracing for something heavier than an update.āFlorence is healing faster than expected,ā he begins. His voice is calm but firm, always steady. āHer vitals are stable, her scans are clean, and sheās responding well to treatment. If everything stays on track, she could be discharged by next weekend.āI close my eyes for a brief sec
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Fifty-Seven
šš«ššš”šI linger in the hallway for a while, staring at the half-open hospital door like itās a threshold to something Iām not ready to face. Inside, Marcus still plays with Florence, their laughter carrying softly into the corridor like a warm breeze on a cold day. My hand is frozen mid-air, inches from pushing the door open, but I justā¦ canāt.Not yet.My emotions are too jumbledāgrief, gratitude, guilt, and something dangerously close to longing. Seeing him like thatāsoft and unguardedāreminded me of a version of him I hadnāt allowed myself to imagine. Itās disarming. And itās why I turn away, intending to head back toward the elevators, maybe find a quiet place to gather myself.But as I turn, I nearly collide with someone.Sheās standing silently behind meāslender, in a wrinkled blouse and jeans, her coat draped hastily over one arm. Her hair is in a messy bun, strands falling loose around her tired but softened features. I recognize her immediately: the childās mother.She
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Fifty-Seven
šš«ššš”šItās just past 10 a.m. when my personal assistant, Winifred, bursts into my office, tablet in hand, eyes gleaming with the kind of enthusiasm that usually spells either disaster or a sudden stroke of genius. I look up from the contract Iāve been revising for the last twenty minutes, one brow lifting in silent question.āYouāre going to want to see this, Miss. Hawthorne,ā she says, practically skipping to my desk.āPlease tell me thatās not another scandal brewing,ā I mutter, half-joking. After the week Iāve had, I wouldnāt be surprised if someoneās unearthed some long-forgotten college photos or declared I secretly run a cult in my spare time.āQuite the opposite actually, Boss.ā Winnie swings the tablet around so I can see the analytics dashboard. āSales are up. Way up. Nearly thirty-two percent since yesterday. Online traffic has doubled since this morning alone. Andā¦ā she swipes to another page, āā¦our social sentiment index has shifted. Positively.āI blink at the numb
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Fifty-Six
ššš«ššØš¬Saturday afternoon stretches out before me like a question I don't quite have the answer to. I'm home, sitting at the edge of the leather sofa, phone in hand, thumb hovering over Aretha's contact.Should I text her? Call her? Ask how she's holding up?The memory of last night lingers. Her trembling voice. The kiss. That look in her eyes when she pulled away. Part fear, part need. And then, nothing. Silence since.I sigh and toss the phone onto the couch beside me, running both hands down my face. She's probably overwhelmed, dealing with press vultures and her family. The last thing she needs is me barging into her peaceāor what's left of it.A ping vibrates on my phone. Itās from Cameron: "Meeting at the club. 5PM sharp. Drinks on Nathaniel. Donāt be late."I almost laugh. Nathaniel probably didnāt even agree to that.ā¢ ā¢ ā¢The gentlemanās club isnāt as rowdy as usual. Rich men in tailored suits, cigars in one hand, arrogance in the other. Gold accents glint in the dim li
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Fifty-Five
šš«ššš”šI wake up to the distinct scent of chamomile tea and the soft clinking of china. For a brief second, I think Iāve dreamt it all upāthe accident, the hospital, the motherās accusations, the kiss with Marcos. But when I open my eyes and see Mom standing at the foot of my bed, holding a tray while wearing her signature pinched expression of maternal concern, I know I didnāt.āAretha, darling,ā she says carefully, as though afraid she might shatter me if she speaks too loudly, āyou donāt have to go in today.āI sit up, blinking away the sleep from my eyes. āI do.āāYou shouldnāt.ā She sets the tray on my bedside table. āNot after everything yesterday. The media is going to be relentless. And emotionally, youāreāāāIām fine, Mom. Seriously. I appreciate your concern, though.āShe gives me a look that says sheās not convinced, but she knows me well enough not to argue. Still, she lingers while I get ready, watching me like Iām about to unravel. I offer a small smile and a kiss
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Fifty-Four
ššš«ššØš¬I stand rooted to the cold, polished hospital floor, my mind reeling as Arethaās words echo like a chime struck in the deepest part of me."I know very well what it feels like to lose a child."She says it so softly, so simply, like itās just another sentence in a long list of things that have happened to herābut it lands like a gut punch. I donāt move as she turns and walks away, her back straight, her head high, but her shouldersā¦ her shoulders tremble the slightest bit.Iāve seen death on the table. Iāve watched people code right in front of me, seen mothers scream over sons and children collapse into the arms of nurses. But this? This is different. This is the kind of pain that doesnāt bleed on the outside.The mother of the injured girl stands silently beside me, unsure nowāmaybe ashamed. Her anger drains the moment Aretha disappears around the corner. She says nothing more, just quietly returns to the waiting area, clinging to the hope I gave her minutes ago.I take
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Fifty-Three
šš«ššš”šThe hospital air is coldātoo cold. It seeps through my skin and settles deep into my bones, making me feel like Iām walking through a fog. I sit on one of the stiff plastic chairs in the waiting area, hands clasped tightly in my lap. I mustāve checked the time on my phone a hundred times in the past hour, each glance bringing no new relief.Where are they? Why hasnāt anyone come out yet?I chew on the inside of my cheek, my mind replaying the accident in a relentless loop. The sickening thud of her body brushing the jeepās front grille, the sharp scream that tore from my lips, the way Alfie clutched my hand so tightly as we rushed out of the car. That little girlāso small, so fragileājust darting across like life was a game of tag.Iāve tried to breathe. Iāve tried to pray. Nothing sticks. I feel like Iām going to break apart, right here in this freezing corridor.Then I hear footsteps. Sharp. Hasty. Unforgiving.My eyes lift just in time to see a woman charging toward me
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Fifty-Two
šš«ššš”šThe mall is buzzing with energy as Alfie and I walk hand-in-hand past the storefronts, our steps matching in rhythm. Heās practically bouncing beside me, excitement fizzing off him like a shaken soda.āI want to check out the new Nintendo games!ā he exclaims, tugging my arm like heās trying to drag me there himself.I laugh, adjusting my sunglasses as I glance around. āWeāll get there, little man. Letās start with shoes first. Youāve outgrown yoursāyour toes are probably screaming.āāMy toes are fine,ā he mutters dramatically, but he doesn't protest when I guide him into the kidsā footwear store.He slips onto a little bench as the attendant brings options in his size. I sit beside him, watching his nose wrinkle as he examines a pair of lime green sneakers.āThese are loud,ā he declares. āLike, even the birds would hear me coming.āI snort. āIsnāt that the point? So the entire house can hear when you try to sneak cookies after bedtime?āHe flashes me a mischievous grin. ā
