Unbreakable Bound

The pain of regrets

*Chapter 7: The pain of regrets

I made my way to the living room, where the sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a warm glow on the furniture. I sank into the plush sofa, trying to gather my thoughts. The image of Drake’s face lingered in my mind, a sad reminder of the pain and chaos that had once engulfed our family. I couldn’t shake the feeling that his presence was still haunting me, even in his absence.

Just then, my phone buzzed again, breaking the silence. I hesitated before picking it up, my heart racing as I saw a private number flash on the screen. I took a deep breath and opened the message: "Are you okay?"

I stared at the words, a mix of confusion and apprehension washing over me. Who was this person? Why did they care? I felt a surge of irritation and curiosity. I quickly typed back, "Who is this?" but the message didn’t send; it was a private number.

Frustrated, I decided to check on Riha, hoping to find her in a better mood—the kind she always had when Sun visited. As I walked down the hallway, I could hear her soft voice coming from her room, mixed with the sound of music. I knocked gently before entering.

"Hey, Riha," I said, peeking in. She was sitting on her bed, surrounded by notebooks and sheets of music. Sun was there too, strumming his guitar softly, a smile lighting up his face as he played.

"Anna!" Riha exclaimed, her eyes cool but not sparkling. "Look what we did!" She picked up a notebook and showed me the lyrics they had been working on.

I felt a wave of pride wash over me. "These are amazing, Riha! You’re really talented."

Sun looked up, his expression warm. "She’s got a real gift. I’m just helping her chase her dream again. Maybe this could help her."

I left the room, leaving them to their creative energy. I checked my dad's room, but he was still not home. I went straight to my mom's room, which we had abandoned after her death. I grabbed her picture from the bedside table and sank to the floor, my eyes filling with tears.

"Mom, I’m scared. Will you forgive me?" I cried heavily, the weight of my emotions crashing down on me.

"Anna," my mom's voice echoed in my mind, tinged with sadness and anger. "You aren’t my child."

"Mom, I’m sorry!" I sobbed, feeling the ache of loss and regret. I could see the air carrying her away from me as I tried to hold her hand, but just then, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was a maid holding a vacuum robot cleaner.

"Miss, I want to clean the room," she said, her voice breaking the spell of my moment.

I looked at myself, my mom's picture still in my hand. Had I just dreamt about seeing her? My clothes were damp with sweat, and my eyes were swollen from tears. "So my mom wasn't here," I murmured.

"Pardon?" the maid asked, tilting her head in confusion.

"Don't worry," I replied, forcing a smile as I stood up, placing her picture back on the bedside table. I left the room, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment.

Back in my own room, I took a quick shower, letting the water wash away the remnants of my emotional turmoil. Afterward, I brought out my laptop, adorned with a Versace sticker my favorite brand. I loved the luxurious feel of their products, and it always gave me a boost of confidence, like I said earlier.

I had a meeting with our top staff at the office about our contract with the Swaiden Group. As I logged in, I felt a sense of purpose returning. We needed to discuss strategies and ideas to ensure the contract went smoothly.

As the meeting commenced, I listened intently as my colleagues shared their thoughts. Some proposed innovative ideas, while others focused on logistics and timelines. I dropped a tablet of Kopiko coffee candy into my mouth, savoring the sweet taste as I took notes.

The discussions flowed, and I felt a renewed sense of determination. This contract was crucial for our company, and I was ready to do whatever it took to make it a success. But even as I engaged with my team, the earlier message from the private number lingered in my mind, a reminder that there were still unresolved issues waiting to be addressed.

“Who could this be.?” I murmurred.

As the meeting wrapped up, I felt a mix of accomplishment and lingering anxiety.