Chapter 18: Be with me
1071 Words
Ash sat at the edge of the bed tugging his tie as if it was a noose. His wife was lying on the bed watching him.
Don't forget to see your friend, Brooklyn. At least for Nora's school fees. ” She reminded.
Ash’s jaw tightened. His reflection glared back at him, weary but proud. He turned, kissed her forehead, and muttered, “I’ll handle it. Don’t worry yourself.”
And then he was gone, shoulders squared like a soldier, pride covering the cracks she could see clear as day. She stood in the doorway long after, watching the street swallow him. Her chest ached.
He would never go to Brooklyn. She didn't know what had transpired between them. Or his pride wouldn’t let him. But how long could pride feed a child? How long could pride pay for a brother’s bail?
The thought made her throat tighten. Something had to be done.
By midmorning, she had washed the dishes, swept the floor, and tied her wrapper tighter around her waist. She kept Nora in a neighbor's house, Mrs Mary. She never treated them like the others in the compound and she was the only person Tessa could trust. If Ash wouldn’t go to Brooklyn, she would.
Tessa stood in front of Tateen Company where Brooklyn office was located. He was the CEO. She hesitated at the entrance, smoothing her gown, suddenly hyperaware of the frayed edges.
Inside, the reception smelled of air-conditioning and polish. Her sandals clacked awkwardly on the shiny floor, drawing the receptionist’s eyes. The young woman looked her over, from headscarf which covered her packed blonde hair, to her gown, with the kind of look that said you don’t belong here.
“I’m here to see Mr. Brooklyn” she said, steadying her voice.
The receptionist pressed a button on the intercom. “Sir, there’s a woman here. Says it’s urgent.”
A crackle. Then Brooklyn's smooth voice: “Send her in.”
The doors opened, and suddenly she was in a room large enough to swallow her apartment twice over. Bookshelves lined the walls, a globe gleamed in one corner, and wide glass windows stretched behind a polished desk. Brooklyn rose from his leather chair, smiling, as though her presence amused him. His 5'1 stature wasn't helping matters cause he looked no less than a dwarf.
“Well, well. This is a surprise.” He gestured toward the chair opposite. “Please, sit.”
She perched lightly, clutching her handbag. “I’m sorry to come without notice, but it’s about Ash... and Ben… and our daughter.”
“Go on,” he said, folding his hands under his chin.
She spoke quickly, words tumbling out before she lost courage. She told him about Benjamin's case. About Nora’s school fees. About Ash working himself thin, trying to fix everything at once.
“All I’m asking,” she finished, “is a little help. Just until things settle. I know Ash won’t ask you himself, but… I thought maybe, as his friend…”
Brooklyn’s chuckled, the sound low and cutting. “Friend,” he repeated, as though tasting the word.
“Yes,” she said firmly, though unease curled in her stomach.
He leaned back, studying her. Silence stretched, broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioner. Then, slowly, he stood and walked to the window, hands sliding into his pockets.
“You know,” he said, his voice casual, “I’ve always wondered why you chose Ash.”
Her brows drew together. “What do you mean?”
He turned, and the smile on his lips wasn’t kind anymore. It was sharp, hungry. “Look at me. Look at him. I built this.” He swept an arm toward the lavish office. “And Ash? He’s still scratching at life, surviving on scraps. Yet you, beautiful, intelligent, you married him. Loyal to him.”
Her throat went dry. “Mr. Brooklyn”
“Leave him,” Brooklyn said, the words dropping heavy between them.
She blinked. “What?”
“Leave Ash,” he repeated, slower, deliberate. “Be with me. And every problem you just listed vanishes. Ben gets bail with immediate effect. Your daughter’s school fees? Paid, for the rest of her education. Rent, food, clothes, you’ll never want for anything again.”
Her stomach turned. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I’m very serious.” His eyes glinted with a darker edge. “You deserve better than a man who can't take care of his family, always begging. You deserve me.”
Her legs carried her up before she realized she’d stood. “I came here out of desperation, not stupidity. Ash is my husband.”
Brooklyn laughed, a low mocking sound. “Husband? That man looks like a beggar beside me. And yet…” He stepped closer, lowering his voice, his eyes raking over her. “He got you. That has burned me for years. Watching him flaunt a woman like you while I sat here building an empire.”
Her palms shook, but she met his eyes. “I would rather starve with Ash than sell myself to you.”
For the first time since Tessa arrived, his mask cracked. His smile vanished, his face twisting with something raw and bitter. Then, with a flick of his fingers, the door burst open. Two security men stepped in.
“Escort her out,” Brooklyn said coldly. “And make sure she never steps foot here again.”
She gasped as rough hands grabbed her arms. “Don’t touch me!” She twisted, struggling, but they dragged her down the hall, her sandals scraping against the glossy tiles. Secretaries peeked over their desks, whispers buzzing like flies.
By the time they shoved her through the front doors, her gown was disheveled, humiliation burning hotter than the midday sun. She pulled her clothing tight, chest heaving, face wet with angry tears.
People turned on the sidewalk to stare. Some whispered, some smirked. She ignored them, fighting the ache in her chest.
She stood there for a long moment, breathing hard, before lifting her chin. Her voice trembled as she whispered, “Ash, no matter how hard this gets, I’ll stand with you. Let them laugh. Let them mock. I won’t leave you.”
And with that vow burning inside her, she turned and walked away, her shadow stretching long across the concrete.
- Writer
