The Death Game

Chapter Three: Unwanted memories

The night was one of the longest I had ever endured. Sitting close to the pianist, I found solace in the music, even though I lacked the skill to play myself. The soothing melodies filled the air as people slowly danced and chatted around me. I sat alone, sipping my champagne, lost in the moment.

My tranquility shattered when I saw two figures approaching me. My world seemed to stop, and unwanted memories came flooding back, each one more painful than the last.

My brother, Everet, stood before me with a bright smile. "Mr.Harrison, this is my older sister, Valarie," Everet introduced, pointing at me. "Val, this is First Officer Ian Harrison. We met at the training academy," Everet continued, his smile unwavering, while mine felt forced and hollow.

Ian's eyes locked onto mine, his smile appearing genuine, but I knew better. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Harrison," I managed to say, my voice cold and distant.

Ian's smile widened, and his eyes sparkled with a familiarity I despised. "Likewise, Miss Pierce."

Everet's gaze flicked between us, eyebrows raised in confusion. "Do you guys know each other by any chance?"

"No," I replied curtly.

"Yes," Ian said simultaneously.

Everet's confusion deepened. "So you do know each other?"

I crossed my arms and looked at him, my expression hard. "Not anymore."

I turned and walked away, ignoring Ian's calls for me to stop. My heart pounded in my chest as I made my way to the cold garden, the air biting against my skin. I stopped abruptly when Ian caught up to me, his hand on my arm.

I slapped him hard, my hand stinging from the impact. "How dare you come into my life after all these years?" I seethed, my voice shaking with anger.

Ian looked at me, a mix of regret and confusion in his eyes. "You're still mad at me, aren't you?" he asked, his voice soft.

My disbelief turned into fury. "Mad at you?" I shouted, my voice echoing in the empty garden. "I hate your existence, Ian. I HATE your f*****g entire existence!" I pointed at him, ensuring he heard every word clearly.

Ian took a step back, his expression pained. "Valarie, I never meant to hurt you. I thought we could—"

"Thought we could what?" I interrupted, my voice trembling. "Forget everything that happened? Pretend like it didn't break me?"

He reached out, his hand hovering near mine. "I just wanted to make things right."

I pulled away, shaking my head. "Some things can't be fixed, Ian. Some wounds never heal."

The silence between us was deafening, the weight of our past hanging heavily in the air. Finally, Ian spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Valarie. For everything."

I turned away, my eyes burning with unshed tears. "Sorry doesn't change anything," I said, my voice cracking. "Just stay out of my life and out of my Brother’s too!."

Without another word, I walked away, leaving Ian standing alone in the cold garden. The night, once filled with beautiful music, now felt unbearably heavy with the weight of our shared history.

Everet was there, watching everything unfold from a distance. As I made my way to my car, his presence was a comforting yet poignant reminder of the past. Just as I reached for the door handle, I felt his hand gently touch mine.

“Wait, Val," he said, his voice thick with concern and anger. "What did he do? Just tell me, sis, and I promise I’ll make him regret it.”

His words were laced with a fierce protectiveness that made my heart ache. I turned to him, cupping his face between my hands with a gentle smile. “It’s okay, baby brother. You don’t have to do anything. I can protect myself, okay?”

Everet’s eyes burned with a mixture of frustration and determination. “But—” he began, his voice strained with the weight of his unresolved anger. Ever since our father's death, he had taken it upon himself to shield us from any harm.

“No buts, Everet,” I interrupted, my tone firm yet soothing. “I know you care about us and want to protect us. And I swear, if I ever need help, you’ll be the first person I ask, okay?”

He stood there, silent for a moment, grappling with his emotions. Then he nodded slowly, resignation and worry etched on his face. “Okay, okay. But what do I tell them if they ask why you left?”

I sighed, feeling the exhaustion of the night settle into my bones. “Just tell them I got tired, so I left,” I replied softly.

With that, I got into my car and drove off, my mind a whirl of emotions and memories. I had no destination in mind, just a need to escape. Eventually, I found myself parked in front of my restaurant, the familiar sight bringing a strange sense of comfort.

I sat in the car for a while, staring at the building. It had always been my sanctuary, a place where I could lose myself in the rhythm of cooking and the hum of the diners. Tonight, it felt different—more like a refuge from the storm that was Ian’s unexpected reappearance.

Stepping out of the car, I felt the cool night air on my skin, a welcome contrast to the heated exchange in the garden. I walked slowly to the entrance, my thoughts still tangled in the past and present.