CHAPTER-3
1178 Words
I offer a silent prayer, trying to steady the weight pressing down on my chest. The pain is suffocating. I can only imagine how much Saphire must have hurt when she saw me with Eurika. She misunderstood what she saw, jumped to conclusions. She must have thought I had been with them both at the same time.
God knows that was never the case.
I was the victim in all of this. But even as I try to convince myself, deep down, I know I’m not entirely blameless. I may believe I was wronged, but the truth is, I was the one who brought this upon myself.
I let out a slow breath, letting my mind drift back—back to when everything was whole, before my life shattered beyond repair. So many beautiful memories flood my thoughts, all of them tied to her. Saphire. My Saphire.
Like that night, when we sat together watching a movie, her laughter filling the space between us, warm and soft, like a melody only my heart could recognize.
The memory is so vivid, so intoxicating, that I can almost feel the warmth of her body pressed against mine, hear the way she whispered my name in the dim glow of the screen. She had this way of leaning into me, as if I was the only person in her world, as if nothing else mattered but us.
A quiet chuckle escapes me as I relive the way she used to get startled by the smallest things, clutching my arm, burying her face against my shoulder.
God, she was adorable.
And I was hers.
Or at least, I thought I was.
But fate had a cruel way of rewriting our story.
Now, all I have are these memories, flickering like old film reels in my mind. And no matter how much I want to hold on to them, to her…
She’s gone.
And the weight of her absence is unbearable.
The memory of our fierce, intoxicating lovemaking pulls a slow smile from my lips, the thought alone enough to send a rush of heat through me. It was overwhelming—how vividly I could still feel her, taste her, lose myself in her. But reality is cruel. The moment I come crashing back into it, the ache I’ve been trying to suppress claws its way back to the surface.
And what stings the most? The thought that while she lingers in my mind, consuming my every waking moment, I may not even cross hers anymore.
That realization cuts deep.
This memory, this burning imprint of her, is one of the best things I have left. But I refuse to let it remain just a memory. That’s why I’m searching for her. That’s why I’m tracing every possible trail she’s left behind. I won’t accept the idea that what we had was fleeting, a dream destined to fade. No—I won’t let that be our fate.
What we had was real. And it will be real again.
The elevator doors slide open to the ground floor, and I step out without hesitation, heading straight for the exit. As I move through the corridor, employees acknowledge me with bows and quiet greetings, but I don’t spare them a glance. My mind is too cluttered, too heavy with thoughts of her, of us.
The moment I step outside, Zoren is already there waiting, standing by the sleek black limousine. Behind him, the driver keeps the car running, anticipating my arrival. But Zoren—he’s scanning my face, eyes sharp, searching. He’s trying to read me, trying to determine through sheer observation whether today has been good or bad.
This man has always looked out for me, warm and unwavering in his loyalty. Just like Jims. It makes sense—after all, they’re brothers. They know everything about my family, my history.
How could they not?
I let out a deep sigh, bracing myself.
Here it comes. Zoren’s inquisition.
Sometimes, his concern is reassuring. Other times, it’s exhausting.
"How was your day, sir?" he asks while holding the door open for me.
I slide off my white coat, hand it to him, and step inside before answering.
"Incredulous," I mutter, rubbing a hand down my face. "And like always… I feel empty."
He doesn’t reply to that. He simply folds my coat over his arm, climbs into the empty seat beside driver’s seat, and asks the dirver to start the engine.
I exhale another heavy breath.
I don’t want to go home. Not yet. I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts.
Then it hits me. My daughter. I’m supposed to visit her today. There’s no way I can skip it. I already see her only twice a week—missing even one visit is out of the question.
No matter how much I resent her mother, my daughter is innocent in all of this. I could never blame her for the mistakes I’ve made. As a father, my duty to her comes first, no matter what. That’s how the Beaurlingtons are—we take care of our own.
But as we near the end of the skyway, a different thought tugs at me.
A drink.
There’s a fine liquor bar nearby.
Maybe I need to pull over. Maybe I need something to drown out this ache, to silence the storm in my head—just for a little while.
"Take a detour to John Barleycorn’s," I command, my voice firm. "I need a drink."
At that, Zoren turns to me, frowning. His hesitation is immediate.
"Sir, aren’t you visiting your daughter?" His tone is careful, but I can hear the underlying disapproval.
I cut him a sharp look, one that should be enough to tell him not to push it. But Zoren—damn him—he always needs a verbal answer, an explanation.
"Just for an hour or two," I say.
He exhales in resignation, clearly displeased but knowing he has no say in the matter. With nothing more to add, he shifts his focus back to the road.
When we finally pull up in front of Barleycorn’s, the driver brings the car to a smooth stop. Without waiting, I step out and head straight for the entrance, my strides purposeful.
I know they’re still watching me.
They never leave me alone in places like this.
And for good reason.
I always enter as the CEO of my company… but I don’t always leave that way.
Alcohol has a way of stripping me down to something raw, something reckless. It unearths the buried instincts—the ones that make me lose sight of reason, of right and wrong. More than once, I’ve walked out of places like this with bruised knuckles and a split lip, and I never seem to learn my lesson.
But right now?
Right now, I don’t care.
This is the only place that feels fitting—the only place that matches the storm raging inside me.
So, I step inside.
And I let the darkness swallow me whole.
- Writer
