I THOUGHT I HAD HIM

1321 Words
LOLA It had been about 10 minutes since both men left. Even Eddy had forgotten his search for me. As I stood there, in front of the mirror, for another 5 minutes, I couldn't believe that all was well despite having murmured it severally to my mirror image. It wasn't. Trouble was looming and it was obvious. By the time I gathered enough courage to slip back into my default expression for the public and the cameras - happily married, living a life that should easily be every woman's dream, I finally walked out of the privacy of the restroom. Past the twin paintings, past the changing room, into the whirlwind of my fate under whose weight I was crumbling, with a smile on my face, of course. For the rest of the event, I didn't see Eddy, Fredmon or Connor. When I was tired of hanging around by myself, I went home in a cab. I had intentionally taken a long route home, through Mulloland, hoping the chilly breeze that froze my skin as I watched out the window, at the city spread beneath the bright lights, would make the burden my heart now carried lighter. My eyes rested on the unfamiliar cars parked silently in the garage, three of them. I wasn't sure of what to think until I entered the building. The aura felt different from what I was used to on evenings like this one. We definitely had visitors, but by this time of the night? I wondered, still walking farther in. The sitting room. My eyes fell on my father in-law. This would count as the fifth time I had seen him since after my wedding. I counted. Well, because keeping records strangely made me feel like I was in charge. He had aged a little from the last time I saw him, but might I say towards perfection? My father in-law was tall, silver haired, the kind of handsome that had stopped being about youth a long time ago, becoming about something else entirely - authority, power, money, mystery, name it. He was relaxed into the special sofa, the one Eddy would always sit on, with a glass containing some dark colored liquid, his glasses tipped slightly over his nose. He looked up at me causing an unfamiliar feeling to unravel in my stomach. "Lola," he called Not "Hello" or "Good evening." Like he had spoken a full sentence. "Greg," I replied in the same manner. I have always called him by his first name. He never allowed me call him anything else. "Good to see you again," he returned, his eyes lingering longer than they should. My chest tightened to the sudden surprise. Silence. Then, he continued. "A thanksgiving family tradition. Happens once every year and lasts for a week." This was the first time I was hearing that despite being married to Eddy for two years. "Eddy didn't tell you," he continued, not a question, just a silent observation that fell flat somewhere between us. I smiled. It was a better response to the words that had formed in my head. --- I headed towards the kitchen. Then I found Connor Millow in the hallway outside the kitchen, a phone pressed conveniently to his ear. I had stopped in my tracks. Connor wasn't a Langford. What was he doing here? He didn't see me on time because of the phone call, but as soon as he did, he turned, slowly pulling the phone down to his side, his expression dissolving into that warm gentleness he always looked at me with. Quickly, I bowed slightly. He bowed in response. No words. I hurried away, the dream replaying in my head. Making it to the privacy of the kitchen walls, my gaze still focused behind me, I exhaled with relief. Turning well into the kitchen space, I shuddered at the first sight that greeted me. Fredmon, shirt buttons fully undone, hair loose and rough, lots of strands falling over his face. He was sitting crossed legged on the kitchen counter while he ate a mango. I staggered backwards by a few steps. There was no need for him to hide anymore. There was no need for me to pretend I didn't know. Our gazes met and held still, like we were trying to read each other's minds. He cleared his throat, suddenly rolling his eyes. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Langford." His words stung as hard as he meant them to. "I'll explain," I said. "Do I also need to explain?" he followed. "Not at all," I dared to move closer to him. If Fredmon was here for a week too, he'd see how little I meant to the man I had left him for - I could not bear the thought of it. I turned. A cough scratched at my patched throat, reminding me of why I came to the kitchen in the first place. I rubbed my neck for relief, stifling the cough. "Your body doesn't do well dehydrated. Normal temperature water to escape coming down with a cough," I heard Fredmon say from behind me. This man knows me too well, it was scary. I turned again, but to the end of the counter, grabbed a bottle of normal temperature water and hurried out of the kitchen. In the room, Eddy lay leisurely across the bed, swiping attentively through his phone. When he noticed my presence, he turned his eyes briefly in my direction and that was it. "You didn't tell me," I started, trying my best to keep my anxious breathing under control. He turned towards me, his eyes crinkling in confusion, but that expression dissolving as fast as it came. "Oh! that? A family thanksgiving tradition. It skipped my mind," he said passively, turning away. "Having your father, brother and best friend in our house for a whole week skipped your mind?" I watched him sit up on the bed with the silent frustration of a man being bothered in his own territory, his gaze sending me an instant warning message. I retreated shamelessly. "I have something to say," my voice was calm, almost pleading. He nodded, his eyes sending a different message - he wasn't interested. "What you did today. What you always do whenever we go out. Nasty comments about my weight and treating me like dirt that wouldn't come off the sole of your shoes, can you not do it in front of your family? Please?" His gaze on my face deepened, like he was learning something new, something he was not used to. "Right?" he asked for confirmation. "Right," I replied. He didn't seem convinced. I knew I had to serve a better treat. "Just for the week, treat me like a person for a week. In return, I will attend the Mercer dinner." Justice Mercer, the kind of man that weighs the strength of your family before doing business with you. He wouldn't even read the proposal without a meeting with me. Eddy had asked me twice, and twice, I had declined. First time, because I wouldn't do Eddy any favour. Second time, curious to know if he would ask differently. I felt his eyes search mine for a hidden agenda, different from what I had made known, then when he couldn't find anything, his eyes narrowed in a way that I could see the calculation happening behind them, like he would when he looked at the market for a deal that would benefit him more. It was Eddison Langford afterall. I thought I had him. "Instead...," he inhaled deeply, his gaze dropping into the space in front of him as if finalizing his thoughts. "Instead, make Connor Millow fall in love with you," his gaze returned to my face. The room went still. "I mean, make him want you, so bad, he can't bear to hide it anymore before the end of the week."
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