Missing Her

In the middle of my journey back to the mansion, I clean up the tears that flood my eyes, trying to remove the remnants of my imperfection and failure, especially when I have to show my family that I wasn't affected by the result.

However, my tears were like an open faucet. The more I wiped them off, the heavier the weight I felt inside me. It's burning me inside out. Failing on something wasn't supposed to be my cup of tea, but it happened.

Never in my life have I failed to achieve something. Winning the election was as easy as counting from one to three for me. But how on earth did it happen? I spent billions of dollars on the campaign.

To make sure our lineup could win at all costs. It just fucking happened, and I didn't get the chance to wear a life vest or bulletproof.

My entire body is sinking into the bottom of the ocean. And I was supposed to get Veronica's support, to comfort me in times of crisis, but she didn't.

"Get me the most expensive bottle of wine, quick!" I furiously ordered the security guards as soon as I reached the mansion. Then I walked inside the house to search for my parents' whereabouts.

I checked them in the lounge, living area, kitchen, everywhere, and even in the chamber's room. However, I couldn't trace even their shadows as if their existence in the mansion disappeared like thin air.

"Have you seen my parents?" I asked the female maiden who approached me carrying the bottle of wine. Then I snatched the bottle from her, opened it, and gulped.

"I don't know about the details, Mr. dela Vega, but I heard from the security guards that your parents bolted to the COMELEC's Office (Commission on Election) to know what exactly happened at the election," she replied as she avoided making eye-to-eye contact with me.

"Get out of my face!" I yelled at her, and she immediately followed my instructions without asking further questions.

A part of me wanted to smash the bottle to the floor to let out my burning dismay, disappointment, and disgrace befallen the family. My smart brain when it comes to decision-making becomes dull and helpless.

Everyone was not in this fucking humongous house. I felt empty - abandoned by everyone who I needed to comfort me. So I went to the room, locked myself, and sat in the corner while gulping the bottle of wine.

Then I burst into tears again when I couldn't believe failing the election certainly hit me. "Yvanna, get me something to eat!" I yelled after emptying two bottles of vodka and one bottle of wine.

"Are you deaf?" I continued and was holding the bottle still. "I said, give me a goddamn something to eat you useless, daughter of a slave!"

Too much anger and frustration swallowed me in whole and have had enough. So I smashed the bottle of wine to the floor, across from the door. The bottle once landed on the surface of the tiled floor shattered into hundreds of tiny and sharp shards.

For God's sake, I even forgot the only person who supported me with all my endeavors already left the mansion for good because I chose my ex over her.

"Goddamn it, Norman!" I gritted my teeth while looking at the rest of the empty bottles on the floor, and I noticed that the room had started spinning.

I am supposed to be a light drinker. My body can only hold at least two or three glasses of wine. But it turned out that I just emptied three bottles instead of glasses.

Then I scooped the rest of the bottles and smashed them on the same spot as the first one. "Do you still expect Yvanna would come back into your life, huh? You cheated on her, have you forgotten, you filthy son of a bitch!"

I was about to smash all the photo frames from the closet, my photos with Yvanna, along with our son, but to my surprise, someone was standing in the corner, trembling in fear, while looking at me.

He even wet his shorts with his urine. Despite the distance between us, I could sense every fiber of his well-being trembles. The sound of his heartbeats racing faster even reached my ears.

The continuous pouring of tears in Noah's eyes squeezed off my heart so badly - it was killing me. And the sounds of his silence while standing in the corner fixing his scared eyes at me was deafening.

I don't for how long he had been in the room with me when I didn't even notice him coming inside. Perhaps he was waiting for his mother to arrive.

"Son, No-noah, please, don't be scared of me, honey. It's me, Daddy," I slowly lifted my feet and walked in the middle of the shards toward him, even ignoring the fact that I was walking barefoot, and my feet started to bleed.

"I hate you, daddy! You're a monster! You cheated on Mom, you filthy son of a...!" Noah cut off his words as I held onto his shoulder and scanned every corner of his body to check if he was hurt after I smashed the bottles.

He kept screaming his mother's name over and over again, and punching my chest, trying to remove my hands off him. But as soon as he notices my grip loosens up, he pushes me harder and runs out of the room.

A part of me wanted to chase him outside, to explain to him that every word that came out of his useless dad's mouth was nothing but a lie.

Unfortunately, before I could reach the doorway, my helpless body plummeted to the floor, and woke up at seven in the morning the next day when one of the housemaids knocked on the door.

In the middle of our meal, I could not help but stealth a glance at Noah who fixes his undivided attention to the food across from him. He was in his uncluttered school uniform. Right. I didn't have the slightest idea about his grade now.

Don't even know what is the name of his school, his schedule, or who are his teachers. I am the worst Dad ever written in the history of humankind, there's no question on that note.

A part of me wanted to talk to him, but I got scared that once I said something in the middle of our meal, Mom and Dad would confront me about losing the election.

Speaking of my parents, they also focused on the food in front of them, with several long curved lines written all over their foreheads. I even lost count of how many times Dad heaved a sigh the second we all settled in the dining area.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to school today, kiddo?" Noah's nanny who was seated next to him broke the silence at the dining area as she continued filling my son's mouth with food.

Noah nodded hesitantly without even lifting his eyes to the person next to him. "Do you want me to give you a ride to your school, honey?" I asked with an eager smile on my face, trying to make it up with my son.

But to everyone's surprise, Noah departs from his seat and rushes back to his room. Overwhelming guilt ran down my spine when everything is fucking fault he couldn't make eye-to-eye contact with anyone in the dining area.

I could not believe this was the price of betraying Yvanna because of me being heartless and inconsiderate. She was the only one who took good care of our son. Sad to say, I took her out of his life without even thinking about his needs.

Because I'm a fucking whore with a whore ex-girlfriend who only wants money and power from me and my family. Now that I failed the election, she broke up with me.

"What else could I say?" Mom spoke out. "Your son inherited his evil mom's attitude. Such an evil mom who forgot to bring her son with her..."

"Enough of that, Mom," I begged her instead of a yell. I was supposed to yell at her but I couldn't. "I'll talk to him after work."

After the meal, I went straight to the office, knowing I had a shit of workloads waiting for me after spending my entire grumping week with the useless campaign.

I even put on sunglasses and a cap on me to avoid making eye-to-eye contact or being recognized by anyone in the building, especially the employees.

Luckily, no one got the chance to recognize me as I marched to my office. In the middle of my work, Yvanna's disappearance started to bother me, not because she had the car I supposed to gift Veronica, but because, something deep inside me, missed her.

For God's sake, I even forgot to change my computer screen. Her smiling face and expressive eyes were teasing me. That everything that happened to me appears to be karma - for betraying her - for ruining her life.

On top of that, for choosing a liberated woman instead of her, my lovely, caring, and supportive wife. So I started reaching out to her friends instead of lessening my workload.

"This is Norman, Yvanna's husband. Umm --" I cleared my throat before I continued, "Do you have any idea about my wife's whereabouts?"

The man on the other line of the phone was none other than Justine, Yvanna's best friend. He was the last person on my list who might know about my wife.