Caught Between My Ex And The Turner Twins

7

"Why is everyone saying that you were involved in an illicit affair with me and the Turner twins?"

I heard Sam's voice loud and clear on the phone, and I could easily tell that he wasn't pleased. "And, also, since when did you stop working at Omni-Tech? I have been trying to reach your cell and it has been saying unavailable all the time. I am just here wondering where the hell you have been, and why you are avoiding me."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to respond to Sam.

"You are over reacting, Stella," Sam continued. "I don't know why you feel you have done something wrong."

"I have," I interrupted Sam. "I have committed a scandal and Ms. Deveraux caught me."

"What???"

That was the last word I heard from Sam before I cut the call. I didn't want to hear anymore words from him.

The silence in my room was deafening after I ended the call with Sam. I sat on my bed, my hands trembling, the phone still clutched tightly. How had everything unraveled so quickly? One moment, I was climbing the corporate ladder at Omni-Tech, and the next, I was a pariah, my reputation in tatters so I imagined.

And, then, just when I felt everything was moving fast, a thought came across my mind.

What if I had not done anything wrong?

What if I was just overthinking?

"Honey!" My mother came inside the room with the same genuine smile she wore on her face since the day I was her child. "What do you want for breakfast?" She asked, looking deeply into my eyes as if she was searching for answers to a question that only me could answer.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up in bed, the morning sunlight filtering through the curtains. "Good morning, Mom," I yawned, stretching my arms above my head. Her question lingered in the air, and I pondered it for a moment.

"How about pancakes?" I suggested, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It was a tradition in our house, and the thought of fluffy, golden-brown stacks drizzled with maple syrup made my stomach growl.

Mom's eyes lit up. "Pancakes it is! Blueberry or chocolate chip?" she asked, already knowing my answer. It was a game we played every weekend.

"Both," I grinned, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "And can we have some bacon too?"

She chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "Of course, sweetheart. I'll get started. Don't be too long, or your father might eat your share!" With a wink, she turned and headed towards the kitchen, her soft footsteps echoing down the hallway.

I sat there for a moment, listening to the faint clanging of pots and pans. The aroma of coffee wafted up, mingling with the sizzle of bacon. Outside, birds chirped in the maple tree by my window, heralding another beautiful day.

By the time I arrived at the dining table, I could see my father already sitting there, waiting and looking into my eyes as if there was something he wanted to say, but didn't have the courage to say to me.

"You need to return back to your job at Omni-Tech," my father informed me with an awkward smile on his face.

I froze, the fork with a piece of blueberry pancake hovering midway to my mouth. My father's words hung in the air like an unwelcome guest. The cheerful morning atmosphere dissipated, replaced by a tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"Dad, I..." I started, but the words caught in my throat. How could I explain what had happened? How could I also explain that I was overthinking stuff?

My mother, sensing the shift in mood, paused in her cooking. She turned, a spatula in one hand, concern etched on her face. "Stella, honey, what's going on?"

I took a deep breath, the aroma of pancakes and bacon now mingling with the bitter scent of reality. "I can't go back," I said softly, my eyes fixed on the swirling patterns of maple syrup on my plate. "There's been... a change in my life."

My father's brow furrowed. He was a man of few words, but when he spoke, it carried weight. "A change? Stella, you've worked too hard to let a little office gossip derail your career."

"I am just tired of everything," I said. "And, I feel like I need to rest my tired bones."

The kitchen fell silent, save for the gentle hiss of the stovetop. My mother moved to my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. Her touch was warm and comforting. "We believe you, sweetheart," she whispered, pressing a kiss to my temple.

My father nodded slowly. "Stella, you're not a child anymore. You're a strong, intelligent woman. You can't still be living with your parents."

His words stung, but they also ignited something within me. A spark of defiance, of determination. He was right. I was too old to be living with my parents.

"So, what do I do?" I asked, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand.

My father's lips curved into a small, proud smile. "You fight. You go back, hold your head high, and behave like a proper adult."

I looked at my parents' faces, saw the unwavering faith in their eyes. They believed in me, even when I struggled to believe in myself. And in that moment, I made a decision.

"Okay," I said, my voice steadier now. "I'll go back. I'll clear my name."

My mother squeezed my shoulder, her eyes glistening. "That's my girl."

As I finished my breakfast, the pancakes now cold but the warmth of my parents' support filling me, I began to plan. I would return to Omni-Tech, face Ms. Deveraux, confront Sam, and untangle this web I felt existed, but wasn't sure about how deep it was.