ALEX..“I’m sorry, Alex, you gave up on me first.” Sophie dashed out of the office. I strode to my desk. The hard leather backrest offered support as I sank into the black vinyl chair. Silence had always been comforting for me, but this silence provided no peace. It only made my haunting thoughts clearer and louder.Her words stirred a pain in my chest. ‘A mistress’ she was my life, my everything. But that wouldn’t matter when I’m engaged to another woman. A bitter feeling was born in my chest, and I clenched my fist as I remembered my mother’s betrayal. And then there’s my child, to whom I owe a good family. My fingers flew to my temples, massaging them as throbs traveled across my head. How could I solve this where everyone gets a happy ending?Drawing the drawer of the metal desk, I rummaged through. I sighed. I had left my drugs at my office. After a knock on the door, Mrs. Moore glided in, swaying her hips as she placed one foot after the other. She settled in the other se
The door creaked as I slipped into the workspace, and the weight of everyone's stares pressed on me as I settled in one of the chairs. Timmy’s eyes flicked back to the paper, Lucy toyed with her pen, and Mrs. Moore—Mrs. Moore's gaze bored into me, making me want to vanish.After throwing up for all eternity, I hastily prepared for work. My ankle hurts from spraining it while running down the stairs, and I had to change into flats. Thanks to all that had happened, I was thirty minutes late.My hair was tied into a low, loose bun, a few strands falling down my face. That was the best I could do with it. I haven’t even had breakfast. Mrs. Moore narrowed her eyes as she stared at me. “You’re quite early on your first day of work.”I averted my gaze as my hands played with each other. “I am sorry. I was—““I am not interested in any excuses.” Her voice deepened, her eyes darkened, and the air thickened. “I know you think you have Mr. Dawson behind you, but that doesn’t mean you can walk
Sophie . . “It’s really nothing serious; I sprained my ankle. But I’m better now,” I said, “so there’s no need to rush me to a hospital for something so trivial.” Alex folded his arm and arched a brow. “Do you think I’d rush you because of the sprain?" “Yes.” “You are right.” A one-sided smile flashed across his face. “That’s because you don’t take anything seriously until it actually becomes serious.” He inched closer. “Why would you take it seriously when it isn’t?” I pouted my lips. “So it doesn’t get serious.” He inched closer again; his eyes sparkled as he stared down at me. I averted my gaze, and I firmed myself to the floor.Alex winced as his hands flew to his temple. My heart skipped. My hands, without hesitating, reached to touch, but I stopped midway and constrained my hands in a fold. “Are you alright?” I could restrain my hands but not my voice, as it was soaked in concern. "Yeah, I am,” he responded, but his hands massaged his head. His body was tensed. Aft
Alex ..Sitting, resisting the urge to cover my nose from the fishy smell that assaulted the hotel room. The peelings of the wall and the mold that had grown on the leaking ceiling were an eyesore. My hands drummed against my thighs, and my eyes narrowed at the man that I’d been searching for. “I find it hard to believe you are the one buying the shares.” My eyes darted around the sore-looking room. “You could barely afford a comfortable hotel room.”The small room echoed with the sharp click of the lighter as Damien ignited the cigarette. The tip of the cigarette flared as he took a long drag. He exhaled a puff. A smirk stretched a corner of his lips. “This was the best hiding place, yet you found me. I’m sure you never expected to find me in such a place.” He plopped on the thin mattress supported by a chipped metal frame.I grimaced. He outsmarted me; never did I expect to find him on the outskirts of Manhattan. Damien was a man who loved luxury; if he was willing to put up with
Alex . . “Never.” I hardened my grip on her waist. “Are you scared?” Her eyes widened. “What is wrong with you? Have you gone insane?” Her throat visibly contracted. Another chuckle escaped me. She’s the second one to talk about my mental health today. “Do I look insane?” She shut her eyes. "Alex, please, don’t let them see us—me like this.” When she opened her eyes, they were rounded like a puppy. As soon as I freed her, she scurried to her seat. I strolled and settled in a seat—three seats away from her. Timmy and Lucy strolled in and settled in a seat; Timmy sat near Sophie, and I wondered, with all the free seats here, he had to pick the one next to her. Lucy sat on the other side of the desk. Mr. Moore’s eyes dance between Sophie and me. "Oh, you two are already here.” She settled in the seat next to me. She leaned in, whispering, "It seems you have had fun again today; you forgot your suit.” She stared at my suit that was next to Sophie. I turned my head, arc
Sophie . . The fluorescent light melded with a silent breeze, creating a serene environment. The office was empty; there was no Lucy to chew on her pen, no Timmy to aggressively punch his laptop keyboards, and, best of all, no Mrs. Moore's piercing gaze—just me and my laptop. This was probably the hundredth time I had yawned. Fatigue had made a home out of my bones, muscles—every cell I was made of. For the past few days, my symptoms had vanished. It was as though I had no baby in me; unknown to me, it was gathering its force to strike harder. After sipping my beverage, I placed it on the desk. Its soft thud gnawed at my ears. Although the environment was perfect, something still felt missing. A shuffled footstep swallowed the silence. I didn’t need to take my eyes off the laptop to know it was Timmy. “Good morning, Sophie.” He settled into the seat next to me, placing his bag and laptop on the desk. “Good morning,” I greeted without taking my eyes off my laptop. T
Sophie . . My eyes were fixed on the door as though I were walking into the cage of a lion—one that would pounce and feast on me to stave his starvation. Swallowing hard, I drew a long breath and knocked on the door before opening it. Alex's head was buried in his palms; his elbows leaned on the desk. “Good morning.” I settled in the seat across from him, my eyes landing on a bottle of pill on the table. I squinted my eyes in an attempt to discern what was written on it, and aside from the black ink, I couldn’t make out anything, so I shoved the thought off. Alex snatched the bottle. The pills rattled in the container as he tossed them into the drawer of his desk. “Good morning. What can I do for you?” In his voice, there was no coldness or warmth, just emptiness. Although there was no coldness in his voice, his words chilled my nerves, and an icy sensation tightened my chest. I cleared my throat quietly . “Mrs. Moore told me to show you the design for the rooms on the f
48 ALEX . . Sophie slammed the door so hard the windows trembled in their frames. An exasperated sigh escaped my throat as I craned my neck, casting my gaze on the ceiling. I dropped to the vinyl chair, one leg bent while the other stretched out beneath the desk. A throb shot through my head, but I didn’t massage it. There was no use; it only soothes it for some time, but as long as the cause was still there, it would never go away—so I felt the pain. As long as there was Mia in my life, this pain wasn’t going away. A knock came before the door opened. My P.A. walked in, holding the file requested. “Sir,” he handed it. It was the compilation of the company’s business transactions, management reports, and other business analysis documents during Damien’s father's tenure to my father’s. If I were to have the seat of the chairman of the board of directors, there were mistakes I had to avoid and strategies I needed to apply. Flipping through the pages, it felt thinner than