In Love With My Good-looking Mystery Boss

Liam's POV I jerked awake suddenly, and sat up on my bed. I had definitely heard a crying child's noise, but surprisingly, the whole mansion was eerily quiet. The strong smell of garlic hit my nostrils and disappeared as soon as it came, but not without churning my stomach. "Was that a dream again?" I asked no one in particular. My eyes darted towards Chad's wallpaper lying on my dresser. Chad, my only son. It was the only physical picture I had of him, and he looked so happy in that picture, as if he had never cried once. There was so much movement in my house, yet I could vividly hear the thump-thump-thump in my chest. My heart was skipping beats again, maybe about eight beats this time, for the umpteenth time after Chad left my life. "Da.mmit!” I cussed under my breath, as I pulled out my box of medicine from a section of my chest drawer. I stared at the pamphlet on the medicine as if I were seeing it for the first time. 'Two pills, twice a day, don't take on an empty stomach.' I then shut my eyes and swallowed five. It was barely 5.30 in the morning- way too early to get dressed for work, but I could not fall back asleep either. Actually, I usually did not resume work until the sun was almost down. But in cases where I had to air a show very early in the morning, I made sure to have slept over in my office the night before. Because, not once, not twice did the sun sizzle my skin when I went under it. It was very strange but I concluded that it was some sort of allergy, so I tried as much as possible to stay indoors until the sun was down. Or very mild. "You must stay here, Liam. Until sundown. No matter what is going on outside, don't step out. Okay? I'll be back by sundown, I need to find out whether we can live here," I remembered someone saying those words to me when I was much younger. Only I don't remember who. Maybe it was my father. Or my mother whom I don't remember. But I also remembered faintly that, that day I had stubbornly disobeyed them-went out and got burnt. The burn was so bad that I wouldn't let anything touch me. So, I fell ill soon after. I was Irritable and nude for a few days. But surprisingly, the illness did not last. I got better again, but didn't try stepping out while the sun was up because I had learnt my lesson. The pain I went through was excruciating. That's why, growing up, I had one big dream: watch sunrise everyday with my lover by my side. Somehow I was optimistic it would happen one day. Even if I had to wear a padded overall. But, if you ask me now, I am not any closer to that big dream of mine. For a fact, my allergy to sunlight got worse as time went on. So much that I felt stupid for initially hoping I could actualize my dream of watching the sunrise with my lover. There is no lover, and there's no way in hell I could sit and watch the sun rise. Except I wanted death. Thankfully, it was winter, so we hardly had scorching sunlight. It was always windy or snowy. Or just an healthy interchange of warm and cold. But never hot. But I knew that it was only a matter of time before winter passed. “Life sucks,” I mumbled as I rolled up my pajamas to check for the scar on my arms...scars from that day, when I was told that the sun was not my friend, and yet I went in it. But, there was no scar. As I stared at my smooth arm, a memory flashed through my head: "I wish you died that day, instead of him. I wish he killed you first. You don't deserve a life. I should burn you." A woman's voice, and then the sound of a little boy's cries reverberating through the silent night. It was the same nightmare I had every night. You see, I could get that memory just by staring long enough at the spot where I got those burns that got me bedridden for two days. The memory was usually very short and so, it vanished seconds later. But, whose cries were those? Who's that woman? Why does she keep appearing in my dreams? Did that memory belong to me? I stared at my smooth arm again and wondered, 'where the hell did the burns go?' Burns don't vanish without leaving behind scars. Especially not second degree burns. As I stared, my hands formed into a fist and I just wanted to punch something. But, I didn't. Instead, I fetched a bunch of keys in my chest drawer, slammed the door behind me and went down the stairways that led to my basement. You see, only a few people knew that I had a basement, or that I did hide someone there. But no one knew why I did it, and no one dared ask. As soon as I unbarred the doors of my basement, I looked back to check if the coast was clear, then I went in quickly and stopped before another barred door. "You are here," His weak but gruff voice mumbled. He was sitting on the bare cold floor and leaning against the door. His eyes were dead, and he looked like he's only got three minutes left on earth. That's how he's looked for as long as I remember, so I couldn't care less. "I see you have chosen death," I said to him, "You have decided to take the answers I need to your grave." He grumbled for a moment, coughed up a bloody glob of phlegm and whispered, "The truth will kill you, Liam." I clenched my fists, my anger simmering like the dimly lit furnace in the extreme of my basement, "Listen, I don't need you to protect me. I want that truth!" The smell of mildew and decay filled my nostrils as I glared at my father. We stood amidst the dusty remnants of our hidden past like this everytime, while I asked him the same questions, and he gave me the same responses. This man was nothing but a stranger to me. What did he do to me? How could I not remember anything? 'I am an adult. What could possibly be worse than living in ignorance and loneliness, hiding a huge secret? The truth can't be any worse than this shitty life I've got,"I spat, my voice echoing off the cold concrete walls. 'You never care about what I want or need. It's always about you. You think you are protecting me, but you're obviously just protecting yourself.' My father's expression remained impassive, 'Liam, you will understand much later that, this is for your own good.' I took a step closer, my heart racing as I asked the one question whose answer I know, would kill me, "Did you...err...did you kill my mother, too?" I couldn't wait for him to answer, as I added, "She is the woman haunting my dreams, right?" I yelled, "Right?" again but his straightforward response sent me spiralling backwards. Never would I have expected that response from him.