Iris"Don't look at me like that. I mean it," he said. "I still love you." Suddenly, I found myself chuckling. I was definitely being pranked. The sheer humor was underhanded, perhaps much needed, and, if anything, low but understandable. After all, it would seem Dave was still very interested in pranking me. "Funny," I said, catching my breath as finally my mind was taken off the attempted kidnap. "I'm not lying. I'm not joking. I'm not trying to be funny." Dave grabbed me roughly by the arm. In that moment, I felt the same feeling of revulsion, almost as though Dave stunk. He stung to the point where my body recoiled, and I had no choice but to scoot further into the bed. "Don't touch me," I said, holding up a hand. "You've lost your right," I said. "Long ago, you lost that right. If I need to remind you of why and how you lost it, then you're an even bigger idiot than I thought." "I'm not an idiot," he stated harshly. "Is it wrong for a man to change his mind?" His
Orchard I didn't know why my mind kept going back to Iris. But it did. If not for Richard in front of me constantly reminding me of stuff, I would’ve, of course, forgotten. But I did, didn't I? Or was it yesterday? "Focus," Robert snapped his fingers in front of me. "Your nice little weekend getaway cost us too much." "What now?" "Sozo," Robert replied. "Some idiot is causing some trouble. I don’t know who. Looks like Russians for some lotteries and—" Suddenly, it hit me at that point. There was a Russian at my mom's party. Did that have anything to do with it? "Can I take a break?" "No," Richard and Robert answered at the same time. "Do you two have a strange fetish for watching me work myself to death?" Richard raised his eyebrows. "You’re not dead, and you’re not going to die. At least not unless you’re Hades yourself. Well, last time I checked, you’re not it, Golden Boy." Just as I was about to hit him with a retort, a phone call snapped me out of it—from an u
IrisI sat still in front of my mirror, staring at my reflection. My breath, strangely enough, came out in short pants as though I had been running for my life—but I had, in my dreams, that is. I had been running from him, eager to get away—Dave, that is. Granted, it was quite satisfactory seeing him get beat up like that, but the way he crawled across the battlefield, reaching for me, was a little too much. My husband, however, had been as comforting as possible, pulling me into a hug and keeping me still through the night with my head placed on his chest, listening to his heartbeat until I was lulled by it to sleep. "Work today?" I heard him ask someone behind me. My eyes finally went out of focus, away from my reflection, and found him standing in front of the long floor-to-ceiling window with his arms folded across his chest. "No. Today is…" I turned away from him and looked down at the top of my vanity. Somehow, my words felt caught in my throat as an inexplicable feeling
IrisThis was the last place I wanted to be, especially after the events of the past few days, but I needed to pay my respect. Being normal of a graveyard, there wasn’t much activity. But I found a familiar car just as he reached the parking lot. Then again, it could also just be my mind playing tricks on me, but I waved it off. The closer I got to Mom’s grave, the more I felt a rather impending feeling, something strange was going to happen. As if the thing with Dave wasn’t bad enough, whatever fate was about to throw at me again, I didn’t think I was much ready for it. I reached Mom’s grave and nearly screamed out loud. Of course, I mean, everything wasn’t fine. It wasn’t just the flowers, though. The entire place had been unearthed, looked on, touched. In fact, the only problem had arrived in the person in front of it. It was the hunched figure of my own father. “What are you doing here?” I asked, too angry to hide my disdain. He stood, glaring. “I wouldn’t see you in
Iris "You see, your grandfather on your mother’s side died young, but not before making my marriage to your mother a pain every step of the way. When we started the company, he didn’t see us as those who cared much. In fact, he didn’t. She begged him for support, but he gave nothing, so we had to look for money on our own to start. "She would be the one talking to people because, Lord knows, I was bad at that. But she was pleasant, you know. You have the same smile," he said suddenly, catching me off guard. "She could convince anyone to do anything, and so she was the one mostly going out, looking for investors. We made quite a team," he said. "Until, you know, the decline started, and everything seemed as though it was all rubbish." He stayed silent suddenly, breathing in and out heavily. This is my moment, I thought. I needed to tell him about Dave. "Dad," I said, calling him what I used to way back when I was younger and when our relationship was less rocky. "Dave," I said
Iris My dad placed a hand on my leg, squeezing—a strange kind of contact, I decided. When was the last time he ever touched me? When was the last time I felt the warmth of his hand or the worry in his voice? "I'll be fine," I said. "You know what? Just… let's drop it," I added, using the opportunity to wiggle myself out of his grasp. At that instance, my phone buzzed. Reacting to the activity, my hand dove into my bag, and I pulled it out. It was my mother-in-law. "Iris," she wrote. "I found this really funny article online, and a few of my friends were talking about it the other day, you know, about your mother. I believe Chameleia was her name or something like that? Yeah, they mentioned how she was quite popular... I know this might sound weird—I mean, she was your mom—but they say your mom was sort of like a prostitute. I just wanted to confirm and tell them off, you know, tell them that it wasn’t true. But I already did! I already told them it was impossible, someone like
Tiffany I watched Dave. Not because I was beginning to quite enjoy stalking, but just watching him, and I knew that he was hiding something. They say every woman knows when a man is doing something like that, and I was no stranger to this. After all, I had been on the receiving end. "Let’s just try one more time," I told myself as I crawled into bed beside him and reached him. "Not right now," he said, confirming my suspicions. Until now, he was practically hanging off the edge. I wanted to spite him just a little bit. I felt like it, and he would deserve it in some ways. But somehow, even as I watched him shift within me, I told myself to just let it go. I hugged myself into a ball. It was a strange thing, I thought. Admitting it was even stranger. But my sister didn’t even really get the nicest things, men included. If not for me, Dave would still be with her. And probably, if you thought about it really deeply, if not for me, in the next few months, Orchard would still be
Tiffany’s POVI decided to spend my afternoon at the mall, hoping to treat myself after a long and stressful week. Shopping always helped to clear my head. The hustle and bustle of the stores, the colorful displays, the feeling of new things in my hands, it always brought me joy.As I wandered through the aisles, my eyes landed on something stunning: a beautiful, leather designer handbag. I couldn’t stop staring at it. Just as I was about to pick it up, I realized someone else had beaten me to it.A woman, probably around my age, held the bag in her hands. She examined it, running her fingers over the material. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. That bag had my name written all over it.But instead of walking away, I decided to strike up a conversation. Maybe she’d put it down, and I could swoop in.“That’s such a gorgeous bag,” I said with a smile, stepping closer to her.The woman looked up at me, her expression polite but distant. “It really is,” she replied.“I was just
OrchardIris made the most adorable pregnant woman ever. Maybe it was just my sentiment—I would always believe that. Maybe it was still my sentiment to want her to have another baby just because she made the most adorable pregnant woman ever. And perhaps those sentiments couldn’t be shared with her. But when it always came down to the delivery room, I found myself pacing. "It’s a normal reaction," the nurses said. "It’s normal," they said eventually. "Why don’t you come hold her hand?" the half-face-covered nurse stretched out a hand. "Are you okay?" I whispered in her ear. "Oh yeah, I’m amazing," she mumbled. "But sure, if we want to make this mountain out of a molehill, we can. Besides, I already requested an epidural," she rolled her eyes at me. "Maybe you’re just being dramatic," she waved me off. Maybe I was. Maybe I was just shy. After all, it wasn’t every day a man got to witness this perfect being born. "Okay, I feel something," she gripped my hand. The secon
Orchard Nothing, except the mild silence of the humidifier beside my bed, the steady beeping of the heart monitor, and, of course, the gentle hum of the air conditioner, filled the room. Aside from having to convince my wife—well, I wasn’t sure what we were now, but we surely were something—convincing her to go home, take a shower, get dressed, and look prettier the day after was more than enough. The same could apply to Mom. Partly, it was because of the text message I had received from Dad. “Is it all right if I come see you?” he had texted earlier. “Me telling you no isn’t going to change your mind, so why bother?” I texted back. And, as they say, speak of the devil, and he shall appear. An hour later, Dad walked into my hospital room as though he owned the place—which was mildly accurate. He was one of those with the largest holdings in the hospital. Or, well, he had some of the largest holdings in the hospital. While he didn’t own it specifically, neither did I, but he d
IrisHarold couldn’t be fast enough. Or maybe it was the fact that the speed limit was simply too slow, and Harold was dancing just at the edge. Either way, I kept pounding my heel against the floor of the car while biting my lips, and it seemed the buildings were moving apart too slowly. “I’m going as fast as I can, Mrs. Hector,” Harold said, and turned towards the rearview mirror, his eyes darting towards me. “I’m driving as fast as I can,” he said again, his eyes meeting mine this time. “We’ll be there soon.” His eyes crinkled at the edges, smiling at me. He offered little comfort, I thought to myself, as my face strangely cracked into a small smile. “Thank you,” I said, letting out a huff of air and pulling my fingers together, trying to calm them from the shaking earlier. Who’d have thought talking to the stepmother who effectively bullied you your whole life would cause some form of shakiness? Eventually, we reached the hospital in one piece—mostly. I bolted straight u
IrisPerhaps it was not just me but the entire court, but everyone seemed to let out a breath of relief. I caught sight of Karen sitting somewhere at the back of the room.Simply, I got sight of her because I was jittery, my eyes darting all over the place.Perhaps I was so eager to keep my eyes off Dave that I simply couldn’t look at the person—the wicked person—he had become. He was so unrecognizable.He was not the man I had known all my life; he was not the man I had fallen in love with. No. Buried far from those things were the sweet smiles he had given me when I was younger and the messages of conviction. *"You’re the only woman I could ever marry,"* he had said. Well, perhaps that part was true. I was the only one he married—but probably not the only one he could love. No. His love went to other places; his love had a knack for doing that, going to various places. But none of that mattered for the children. At least that chapter was closed. I raised my eyes to the prose
Iris’ Pov I got the call from the police station. They told me Dave wanted to see me. I didn’t want to go. After everything he’d done, why would I? But then, Orchard’s mum, Halle, said she’d come with me. I needed her support, so I agreed.When we got to the station, my hands were shaking. Halle held my arm gently, and we walked in together. They led us to the room where Dave was sitting. “Iris,” he said, “you came.”I didn’t sit down. I just looked at him, feeling all the anger rise inside me. “You better pray Orchard wakes up,” I said, “if she doesn’t, you’ll regret ever knowing me.”Dave smirked. “I don’t care what happens to me. If Orchard dies, I’m justified.”I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Justified? For what? Before I could say anything else, Halle held me.“There’s no use talking to a man like him,” he’s lost his mind. Let’s go, Iris.”Just as we turned to leave, a cop walked into the room. He had a file in his hand and a serious look on his face.“We found new evide
Iris’ PovI sat in the cold, hard chair outside the operating room, my breaths were shallow and uneven. It felt like I had been holding my breath the entire time.Orchard was in there, fighting for his life. The doctors had rushed him in as soon as we arrived at the hospital, I wanted to believe he would make it, but the blood, there had been so much blood. I couldn’t stop seeing it.My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I joined them together, pressing them tightly against my lap, trying to steady them, but it didn’t work. My clothes still smelled like blood and sweat, and I hated it.“Iris,” a soft voice said beside me.I looked up to see Orchard’s mother. I had called her as soon as I arrived. She placed a hand on my shoulder.“He’s strong,” she said, though her voice cracked. “He’s going to make it.”I nodded, but I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t find any words.The hallway was too quiet, the kind of silence that only made things worse. Every time the doors to the operating room swung open,
Dave’s PovThe sound of the gunshot still rang in my ears as I stumbled back, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The scene before me felt surreal, like something out of a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. Orchard was on the floor, blood spreading around him like a dark, growing shadow. Iris knelt beside him, screaming his name, her hands pressed desperately against his chest as if she could stop the life from slipping out of him.“Orchard! Stay with me! Please!” she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. Her voice was filled with panic, raw and heart-wrenching.And I just stood there, frozen. My hand was still gripping the gun, my knuckles white. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think. All I could do was stare at the chaos I had caused.What have I done?The question repeated over and over in my mind, but I couldn’t find an answer. I hadn’t planned for this to happen, not like this. I just wanted to scare them, to make them pay attention, to make her listen to me. But now… now it was
Iris’ Pov The gun pressed against my head was a constant reminder of how close I was to disaster. I could see the anger in Dave’s eyes, the wild, unpredictable rage that told me he wasn’t bluffing. He was mad enough to do anything. The memory of the day he shot my stepsister, suddenly hit me. The look on his face then was the same as now. No hesitation, no regret. Just pure fury.I knew better than to argue with him. If I made one wrong move, one wrong word, this could end horribly. I forced myself to take a shaky breath, trying to calm the panic that threatened to overwhelm me.“Dave,”please, let’s not do this. Name your price. Whatever you want, we’ll do it. Just… just let us go.”For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stared at me, his grip on the gun tightening and loosening, like he was considering his options.Then he laughed, a bitter, hollow sound that made my stomach twist. “Name my price?” he said mockingly. “It’s too late for that, Iris. Don’t you get it? There’s n
Iris’ Pov My body stirred, waking me from a restless dream. At first, I didn’t understand why I woke up, but then I felt a familiar discomfort in my stomach.I sighed quietly and got out of bed, careful not to wake Orchard. The room was dark, lit only by the faint light of the moon that filtered through the curtains. I paused for a moment, listening to his steady breathing, and then padded softly toward the bathroom.The bathroom tiles were cold under my bare feet, and I shivered slightly as I finished and washed my hands. I thought I would just crawl back into bed and try to sleep again, but as I stepped out of the bathroom, I realized how dry my throat felt. My mouth felt like sandpaper, and my lips were cracked.“I need some water,” I murmured to myself, my voice barely above a whisper.The thought of going downstairs in the middle of the night wasn’t appealing, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t quench my thirst. So, I turned toward the stairs, walking as quietly