Brian

I sit on the couch in Simmon’s living room. This is my first time visiting this house, and I must say Andrew Simmons leaves up to his flashy image perfectly. The living room is amazingly designed as if everything is written to be in their place, the million-dollar wooden furniture is sitting like a king on his billion-dollar home.

A boy around 5 to 10 age, I guess my brother-in-law Miles is already in the room, laying on the couch watching some cartoon on tv.

I sit on the couch quietly, far away from Miles, staring at him for a second, I can say he is too consumed in the movie to know someone else is in the same room with him. I don’t know what to say or how to have a conversation with a kid. It kicks my ass at this very moment that I never interchange with a child in a decade, or should I say ever in my life.

In my family, we are all grown-up adults. None of my siblings are kids anymore, even though the youngest of our household, Lyra, is twenty-three now.

Lyra has been the only kid I have known all my life. Even when she was a kid, I didn’t really have that much connection with her. I was busy with building our business, my studies when she was growing up; move out of the main house to my own house, so I wasn’t part of Lyra’s life. I never really needed to worry about her, as Rose was there for her. If she needed anything, she could get that timely, I guess.

we both keep ourselves out of our business for as long I can remember

We grow close once she became twenty and now Lyra is my darling sister, the only person I can talk to rather than my other siblings who are similar to my business mind personality. Lyra is one in our family who is patient with everything, it’s hard to make that girl angry.

It’s not that I hate kids, they have their known beauty I suppose which I never come across, however; I don’t think I have the patients to deal with their demand or whining. They are worse than women, or the same as women when it comes to requirement calls.

They want your unconditional attention; you need to be calm, patient, caring, loving with them in a way that is overwhelming for me. I don’t have tolerance, not even for a kid.

Just imagine, one baby is crying from bottom of his heart while you are trying your best to make him quiet, you are giving all your old college effort, still, the little pea on your arm is not paying a bit of attention to your hard work doing whatever he wants. Oh god, thinking about this I am having a mental breakdown.

I have no attachment with kids. When the doctor told my dada I can’t become a father, I was there. I felt bad for myself, then I stopped thinking about this, and honestly, in some way, I think it’s a blessing, I would be a terrible father, I am having a hell of a lot of fun in this life; I don’t need unwanted shit in my life. Not now, not anywhere near in the future.

Domestic bliss is not my cup of tea, this marriage will be a mistake I am still rigid on that.

I lift my head and find one more creature is sitting beside Miles; she looks like a human being to me, however, her hawk eyes, the hard way she is staring at me raise questions on my mind of her identity. Miles starts following the girl. Both of them have a serious expression that I see on my board of directors face on the weekly meeting while voting in an argument or taking a million-dollar business decision.

They drag together their brows; the eyes are small as if considering something if that’s worth or not, noses are wrinkled, pouty lips, these two are judging me hard.

The new one in this group is a teenager, so I am guessing Hazel Simmons, well; she looks a lot more different from her sister. I never met her much, maybe one or two, as she doesn’t attend much of our social gatherings, but I can tell just by taking a glance at this girl she is a rebel maybe her messy dark blond bun is the reason for her warrior type look that gives me the rebel expression. She is nothing like her sister, sweet Inessa, whom I have seen all these years.

Hazel and Miles are sitting on the couch side by side, crossed legs and arms are around their midriff, both of them are staring at me as if I am a joker, or they are trying to figure out what the hell I am. This is the most uncomfortable waiting in my life. I try to focus on tv but that cartoon is not my thing. I can’t even understand this boy who is singing with a guitar most of the time.

“You are going to marry Inessa?” Hazel asks me in her husky voice. The awkward silence finally breaks down, but it becomes more ghastly. I’m soothed somehow, however, her sudden out-of-blue question throws me out of the window.

“What?” the boy Miles shouts beside his sister. In a blink of an eye, he starts wailing.

This whole situation surprises me to a new level. I am a confident man, know my next move even before I inhale oxygen in my lung, but at this moment I know nothing at this moment. What should I do? Dumbfounded, I sit on the couch when Miles howling with the loudest sound I have ever heard, and Hazel rolls her eyes at me with a thousand different questions on her tongue.

My brain is calculating the current disastrous situation. I need to say something, at the same time I have to be very careful with my words, it’s rare I talk to children, they are not messed up like we adults; they don’t need the rudeness or the coldness that I use with people who are the most complicated creature every single way. Bloody damn, humans are the most dangerous animal.

“What is going on?”

As soon as Inessa comes to the room, she looks at me, then at her siblings. Her face is blank as the white paper. She reads the room quietly while taking a seat beside her brother on the couch; she kisses her crying brother’s forehead, whispers something to his ears, pats his head, wipes his tears. Miles, his head on Inessa’s chest after calming down.

“Brian makes Miles cry,” Hazel announces to Inessa.

WTF, she is the one responsible for this whole drama that is taking place; she is the one who asked that stupid question that freaks their ten-year-old brother out. Now all the blame is on me when I didn’t even open my mouth.

Hazel and I will not match up well. I know nothing about Inessa yet, but her family is already getting on my nerves.

“Hazel,” Inessa calls her name in a threatening tone, as she knows her younger sister is messing around.

She murmurs something in her brother’s ear and that makes her brother stop crying; he wraps his little arms around her while keeping his head on her chest.

Sometime later we both sit in my car as I fly this wheel as fast as I can. The cumbersome air between us is making everything way more difficult for me. I don’t know how my relationship with Inessa will turn out, but I pledge I am not going anywhere near Simmons again in this life.

The younger generation of Simmons, especially Hazel she is the one I am most afraid of. I am sure North Korean leader Kim Jong-un is easier to deal with than this teenage girl.

I open the door of Inessa’s side; she climbs out of the car like a princess. Her elegance is something that I never witnessed before, the radiant beauty of her personality lights up the entire place as she steps on this corridor.

I didn’t get the chance to look at her in her house as the chaos was taking place. This time I take my time to see her under the gleams. She is wearing a red gown; the neckline is low, too low, everyone will have a glance of her creamy white cleavage.

I don’t like this dress. She looks spectacular with her golden hair down, the lipstick that makes her full lips kissable, her high cheekbones, large green eyes, hands down makes the most magnificent woman of Chicago.

She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. The thought of other people seeing her makes my blood torrid. The gentle touch of makeup highlights her features more exquisitely.

Tonight, I have the most glamorous woman by my side. From now on, she will be present until I fucking die.