Tiffany I was reeling in shock. Rejection did that to me. Never had I put my hands on Dave, and yet he didn’t want me. Far be it from me, I thought to myself, to let this weigh me down. But still, it caused me to recoil in shame. I stared at myself in the mirror the morning after, and even after splashing water on my face several times and taking a hot shower, I still felt disgusting. It was as though my skin had been pried open, and I was staring at a skinless version of myself. “Damn it,” I said, biting my lip. Of course, it was nothing to be worried about, I thought. Dave had problems here and there, but never this bad. “I need to talk to someone,” I mumbled to myself as I pulled out my phone from the pocket of my bathrobe and dialed Mom’s number. “Mom,” I barked into the phone, stifling a sob that suddenly rose from within. “What is it?” As usual, her question was straight to the point. The woman could stand unshaken, never missing a beat in her emotionlessness, but she a
IrisThe morning was still and quiet, the kind of peace that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Orchard lay beside me, his broad shoulders rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His face was so calm and relaxed. Even in sleep, I was so assured he had my back.I moved as quietly as I could, slipping out from under the covers and letting my feet touch the cool wooden floor. A soft chill ran up my spine, but I didn’t mind it. The house had this way of reminding me where I was, of how different life had become since moving in with Orchard and being his wife.Reaching for my robe, I pulled it on, the silk gliding against my skin. I tied the sash loosely around my waist and walked over to the window, drawn by the faint sounds of life stirring outside. Pulling the curtain back just enough, I peered down at the street below.It was alive in that gentle, understated way mornings often are. A couple jogged by, their matching neon shoes flashing as they moved in sync. A man walked his dog,
Iris“No biggie.” That was the phrase Orchard's mom had used. It was such a phrase I would have expected coming out of the mouth of a 16- or 17-year-old or, heck, even one of my age mates—probably someone still living in the past of their teenage years. Not Orchard's mom. She had waved me off. "I barely even got attached to that vase in the first place," she said."Heaven knows how it got there. I'm guessing it was his father thinking it was a funny joke to suddenly bring it in. After all, it’s nothing but the color of puke. Honestly, it beats me as to why it's still here," she said, waving me off. "I don’t understand how Orchard can handle that puke-colored vase in his living room. But who am I anyway? It’s his house," she said. Now that one, I thought, was funny. I chuckled under my breath, somehow nervous about laughing out loud. She turned back to her son and did something that made him smile, before turning back to me and doing the same. "She thinks you’re beautiful," Orcha
IrisShe smiled, nodding at me. "It’s a company," she said. "Well, I bought it and decided that the best place to move it to was here. After looking at quite a lot of demographics, after looking at quite a lot of data, I decided here was the best bet. I’m not looking for so much," she said. "I’m not trying to make billions of dollars every year. I just want to be comfortable. And this is one of the places for that." “Yeah, only people who have so much money talk like that.” I thought to myself as Orchard’s mum spoke. Then I realized she had stopped talking and all eyes were now on me."The business, yes?" I jumped to my question. "We are an interior design company." I cocked my head to one side. "I know at least one other interior designs company," I said. "Their stocks are quite high." "Oh yes, I’m aware," she said. "But you see, we’ve already launched, and on our launch day, the other competition had their stocks blown out of the park," she said with a wide smile across her
DaveGet up and grind. No shit, that was the name of the song I was listening to. I hated it. The song at least had some important lines: Money ain't going to make itself. And so, sitting around in my house wasn’t going to make much for me. Coupled with that, I had too limited a time to cough up Ivan’s money. I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, my mind running amok as I genuinely tried to think of at least one solution. You needed money to make money, but where the fuck was I going to get money from? “Fuck,” I spat out as I drove towards Dad’s office. It was his call that woke me up. “Get over here now,” he said, and that was it. I hated it when he used that condescending tone with me, as though I was a child that needed to be told what to do. “Oh, fuck it,” I muttered as I drove into the underground parking lot of his office building. The place held too many bad memories for me, but who’s dad wasn’t a wicked piece of shit? I chuckled to myself as I stepped out of t
DaveThe Uncle Roger I remembered was big. He was larger than life. He seemed to fill up every space he walked into, which was probably why my mind believed him to be a fat man. My mind believed that he would have gorged himself on the excesses of life, spilling out in all areas, building himself on general lines. But here I was, shocked and surprised that even the mansion I had once imagined as a child was nothing more than an actual house. I hopped out of the car, clicking my tongue just slightly, feeling a little bit of disapproval rise up within me. *It’s not my money,* I told myself as I stepped further towards the house. Roger himself was seated on the front porch. The front porch was a large balcony-style area with even a small dining space, coupled with one of those benches that swung back and forth when you sat on it. I remembered sitting on those when I was a child. "The only reason why I’m looking at you here and not sending you away is because of the fond memories, b
TiffanyConversations with Mom were draining, I noticed. So draining, in fact, that instead of feeling elated and glad that someone listened to me, I felt as though so much had left my body—so much had left my mind. My mind felt raw, it felt unfiltered, it felt so strange. By the time I reached the office, I simply plopped down on one of my couches and hoped to God that my misery would soon be put out and this drawing competition would just disappear. Which I was thinking, I thought to myself as my door opened."Hey."I propped up when I heard Dave's voice."Hi," I said, raising my eyebrow in question. Dave genuinely looked as if he wanted to talk, but frankly, it was draining in itself."You're not going to believe it," he said."You are not going to believe it!" He pointed at me theatrically—typical theater kid."Then tell me so I can believe it," I said, genuinely hating that I had to play into his theatrics."I found the owner of the company," he said. "It was tough, it was hard,
IrisIt was strange being put on the spot like that. The fact that I felt her eyes boring holes into my skull, she waited with her arms folded across her chest genuinely caused heart palpitations. "Well?" she really used an eyebrow."I answer that right now, I’m afraid," I said, strangely blurting out. "But I do know I have feelings for Orchard.”"But isn't it so weird? The woman married to your son after years is unsure of whether or not she loves him 100%?" I chuckled at myself. "Feelings," Orchard's mom said. "Are fickle," she said. "Believe me, I know. I know that feelings can vary. Sometimes tricky," she said, "but I know that really will be fine. At least we're thinking of the worst possible. I'm sure you'll be hard," she said. "After all, I didn’t pick a whisk to run my own company, now did I?""Why me?" I found myself blurting out."Why not you?" she shot back at me with an ignoring smile. "I've looked into you," she said, after a short awkward silence. "Trust me, I'm not r
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