CHAPTER EIGHT: DARK GLASS WALLS
1997 Words
LIORAÉ
“Where the hell have you been?”
My mom entered my room and walked to the bed, making herself comfortable on it.
“I told you I did not want to meet with Evan, and since you were not going to listen to me, I took matters into my own hands,” I replied as I pressed the lipstick onto my lips gently. My hand froze mid-air.
‘Did this colour look good on me? Should I switch it up a bit?’ My mind spiralled with all the questions. At my old job, I had always worn lipstick, and now I was suddenly worried if my signature colour still fit me.
I was no fool; the way Soren looked at me told me that he didn't see me as his assistant. He wanted more, more than I wanted to give him, but I knew I shouldn't.
“Are you even listening to me?” Margaux’s voice cut off my spiralling mind. I blinked and looked at her through the mirror.
“What?” I snapped, not ready to go down whatever hole she was digging.
“Evan said you returned the ring to him,” she said, wheezing as she spoke. “Why are you hell-bent on destroying your life? Who else would marry you?”
“Why won’t they? It’s not like I am some damaged goods.”
“It seems to me that you want to remain in poverty forever. I mean, you have every opportunity to climb up, and yet you think that your pride is going to feed you?” Her question sliced.
“Did Evan tell you what he did?” I asked as I closed the lipstick and turned to her. Her face showed signs of conflict. “He didn’t?”
“Does it matter what he did? He is going to give you a good life, and that is all you need to hold onto.”
“I caught him in bed with three women on the night he proposed,” I said. Her face shifted; a frown took over, but it was soon replaced with a stern expression, like I was making a big deal out of nothing.
“He went down on one knee and asked me to marry him, and minutes later he was thrusting into some harlots, having a foursome like it was normal,” I repeated in case she had not heard or understood me the first time.
“You know men and the way they are,” she said, clearing her throat. She could barely meet my eyes. She didn't have to think to know that her words made no sense, but she was already blinded by what Evan promised.
“The way men are? HE CHEATED!”
“You call it cheating, but he was just getting everything out of his system,” she muttered, standing up. She was trying to reason with me. To make me understand why cheating was okay.
“Would you have said the same if he had walked in on me on the same night, wrapped around three men? Would you have stood up for me?”
“Lioraé, don’t be ridiculous; you do not have the power to do something like that and get away with it,” she said, and I threw my head back.
I had always known my mom to be blinded because of money, but I never thought the damage ran this deep.
“It was a mistake, and he is sorry; just accept his apology and move on with your life. You aren’t getting any younger,” she remarked.
“Mom! I would only say this once and not again because I am hoping for the sake of us all you'd get it this once.” I paused and took a deep breath before taking a step forward, closing the gap between us.
“Evan cheated on me with not one but three women, and there is no way in this world that I am ever going to forgive or go back to him. If it is about money, I will make enough to take care of myself. Camille already makes enough.”
“Aren’t you tired of living this way?” She asked, spreading her hands around, pointing to the room. I looked around at each item, something I had bought with my money. Evan had never been the man to buy things for me. What was the guarantee that when we got together, he was going to take care of me for real?
“I am not.” I shook my head and pushed past her, taking my bag and slinging it over my shoulders.
“I am trying to make sure you do not make the same mistake I made. If I had known, I would have married for money; I would have been wealthy and able to give you and your sister a life you deserve. One you don’t have to work too hard for,” she called after me as she followed closely behind.
“Mom, please stop,” I murmured, trying not to hurt her with my words.
“I would ask Evan to come over again this weekend; clear your schedule and come home.”
“I have work,” I lied. I was not supposed to work on weekends, but if I had to roam around the streets just to get out of whatever she was planning, then I would gladly do so.
“You do not have to work when you get married to Evan. He is a manager, and his salary is good enough to take care of you.”
“I won’t be coming to the dinner, and neither can I afford to quit my job,” I murmured as I remembered that twenty million was at stake.
“Lioraé, you will listen to me and you will…”
“If you want to be rich so bad, why don’t you marry him?” I had barely gotten the words out when her hand connected with my face, my face shifting from the slap, and my ears ringing in response.
I stumbled back, my hand clinging to my cheeks as my eyes stung.
“How dare you?”
“You can slap me all you want, but it is definitely not going to change the fact that I won’t be marrying Evan,” I say, my hand still pressed on my face.
“You act like you are a prude; that was why he did that. If you could only loosen up a bit, things would be good between you.”
I gasped as I realised what was going on. Evan had even come clean with her, and yet she was hounding me so much about it? Did she even, for once, care about me, or was this all about money?
“Just give the man what he wants and get this over with,” she finished, like she had said enough.
I did not say anything as I took a step back and flashed a smile at her. Arguing with her was only going to make me later than I already was. “Have you ever considered me your daughter?” I whispered as I opened the door.
I stepped out, and as I walked down the block, I was glad that I had asked the driver to wait a few houses down. Who knew how she would have reacted to seeing me get into such a luxury car? She might even forget Evan altogether. Maybe I should use it to my advantage.
I sighed and shook my head because I knew it was wrong, no matter how I tried to spin it. I slipped into the car as my phone vibrated with a message.
I realised that I hadn't blocked Evan since that night. It was the first time he had reached out to me since the night of the incident. His pride was making him do these things, the thought that I was going to depend on him my entire life and all of it.
I heard you got the job at my company; I shall come say hello
I stared at the message, contemplating. If I were to text back, it would be as if I were inviting him to talk. He was really that clueless. I wonder why I stayed in a relationship with him for so long; no matter how I look at it now, he was a bad boyfriend in all ways.
I sighed as the car started and we drove towards the company. When I got up to the CEO floor, Soren was already behind the desk working. I stood staring at him from outside as he flipped through the pages of the document in his hand.
His hair that had hung over his face in a fringe this morning was now well slicked back, showcasing how beautifully crafted the top of his head was. His suit hung on the rack behind him, his shirt tailored to perfection.
My view of him was cut off by a body blocking me. When I looked up, I let out a whimpering sound at him.
“Is that the way to greet your fiancé?” he asked, and I rolled my eyes.
“Can you get out of my view?” I asked, and he turned to see Soren and then back at me.
“You are checking out your boss?” He scoffed, and I sighed. I was not ready to face his dangerous male ego. “You weren’t employed to do that, and you know it.”
“And I do not think you were employed to stand around.”
“I was at your house yesterday, but you never came home. Where were you?”
“None of your business.”
“It is every bit of my business,” he murmured and then lowered his voice. “You are my fiancée.”
“I don’t see a ring on here,” I muttered, raising my finger to his face as I began to move things on my desk that were already perfectly fine.
“I will drop off the ring at your house tonight so…”
“Don’t,” I stopped him, and his eyes narrowed. “I already told you that I am not going to marry you and that should be enough for you.”
“What? Do you think you can…?”
“Do you want me to tell everyone here what you have done?” I cut him off, and his smug expression fell. “Then get out!”
He opened his mouth to speak, but the voice that came out didn't belong to him; it was low and dangerous. Soren. We both looked up.
“Alcott, my office.”
I scrambled to my feet and took up the tablet on the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work, and I suggest that you do the same,” I murmured.
“And you?” Soren narrowed his eyes at Evan, who straightened from the hunched-over position he had assumed over my desk earlier.
“Evan Mercer, manager at PR.” Evan’s face stretched with a smile as he tried to reach for a handshake. Soren stared at his hand before looking at me.
“Aren’t you here to work?” he remarked coldly, and I almost snickered at how quickly his hand fell to the side and his face fell into a frown.
“I…I… I am, sir,” he stuttered and hurried off before Soren could say something else.
He turned and held the office door open for me to get in. The door closed, and the clear glass walls shut with blinds, leaving us in the dark room.
“What was that?” he asked, standing so dangerously close to me that my body was shaking with pleasure.
- Writer
