Chapter Eighty-Nine:
TWO WEEKS LATER
Alex patted the driver who had just opened the car doors for him on the back, taking giant strides into the modeling company.
His assistant trailed behind him nervously; piles of files stacked in his hands. Some kept falling along the way, but he seemed to no longer care.
What could be more disastrous was for Alex to turn to face him, and he wasn’t behind him. Alex walked into the reception and approached the secretary’s counter.
“Hello, Dorcas. I told him to wait at the reception,” he said, glancing around.
“Where is he?”
“I can’t tell, Sir,” the secretary replied rather nervously.
“Well, he mentioned going to use the restroom,” she muttered.
Alex turned to face his assistant, whose face was completely blinded with papers from the file that had dropped out of the files.
“Can you imagine?” Alex paused upon seeing what had become of his files.
“Alvin,” he purred. “You better sort those out. Right now.”
“Yes, Sir.” he chirped and set the files on the floor, his shaky hands oiling papers and stacking them.
Alex raised his head to see the supposed employee coming towards him. He leaned in on the counter, “Is that him?” he asked the secretary.
“Yes, Sir,” the secretary replied curtly.
Alex propped his suit, stretching his hands out to the man who immediately recognized him.
“Austin, is that it?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“All right. Straight to business. You mentioned a mail was sent to the company’s complaint email address.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And you feel it’s something I have to read.” Alex reminisced about the call Austin had placed to him the previous day.
“Yes, Sir. It sounds more… personal.”
“This is funny, Austin. You know, right?” he gestured for Austin to come sit with him on the long metal bench.
“People now get desperate to message me personally that they now go as far as sending a message through our company’s complaint email.”
“Erm, Sir, I think…”
“It’s okay, Austin. Do you perhaps have the email with you?”
“Yes, Sir,” Austin said, digging his hands into his pocket immediately.
He puked out his phone and muttered, “It’s in here.”
Without Alex asking, Austin swiped and tapped on his phone’s screen and handed over the phone to Alex.
Alex stared at the phone in amusement for a while, chuckling. “I wonder who the obsessed fan is this time,” he said, reminiscing how similar events had occurred in the past.
Alex’s eyes scrutinized the mail thoroughly, and his smile slowly faded away. He turned to face Austin, his signature stern expression now vivid.
“When was this sent to the company’s email address?” he asked, his tone low and cold.
Austin instinctively stood up; his voice shaky. “Erm, it’s erred … l-last week.”
“My goodness!” Alex yelled, making Austin and Alvin judder in fear.
“How come you couldn’t inform me about this, huh?” he yanked Austin by the collar and pulled him so close that he was breathing on Austin’s face.
He realized he was wasting his time arguing with Austin, so he pushed him away and stormed out of the reception. Alvin’s flower suit, again carrying the files along with him.
Only one thing was resonating in Alex’s mind as he walked back towards the car.
“I must return to Fiona.”
Alex got home, which was just a few minutes’ drive away from his office. He wasn’t sure if he was happy or sad. The message he received changed his mood.
The smile he had on in the morning suddenly disappeared when he read the message.
The message was from Fiona. At this point, her picture came alive to him. He remembered the sweet memories they had and the wonderful experiences they shared.
He never planned to abandon her. He never thought he’d spend a day without his beautiful Fiona by his side. He never thought, he never imagined. But circumstances changed things.
He picked up his phone and dialed Austin’s number.
“Hello,” Austin’s voice came up at the other end.
“Hey Austin, who did you say sent the email”? He asked as he rolled his eyes around.
“It’s from one Fiona,” Austin replied.
“Alright,” Alex replied and ended the call before Austin could say anything.
Alex didn’t know why he called Austin. He knew very well that Fiona had sent the message. But somehow, something within him forced him to make that call.
He dropped his phone on the table noisily. More like he was absent-minded.
He went to his window and stared at nothing in particular. There were so many things racing through his mind, and he could hear the sound of his heartbeat.
Quietly, he walked towards his fridge, opened it and poured it into the glass cup. He gulped everything and placed the cup on the table.
“I must go back to Fiona,” he said as he undressed and went into the bathroom.
Alex paced up and down his room thinking hard. What had he done? How could he face her after everything? It wasn’t intentional, and no words could justify what he’d done.
He remembered the first time they met. Not the type to take a walk, but there was something so particular about that day, and he didn’t know what it was.
Lost in thoughts of what could have drawn him outside, his eyes fell on a woman.
Beauty is something that few understand, and few possess. You can do more than see it, it is felt within you. It is the expression of your soul in light.
When you see something, you find it truly beautiful. It is like the feeling of being in love; inexplicable, strong, and pure.
This was what he felt at that moment when he first saw her, but she was with a man and seemed to be struggling. He went over and waved the man off.
“Watch where you go, darling,” he said, surprised at his choice of the word of endearment.
“Never call a woman by anything other than her name. Not honey, or honey pie, or sugar, or sugar pie, or sweetie, or sweetie pie. Not baby, sweetheart, ho, bitch, and above all, most of all, beyond all else, don’t ever, ever, call her ‘darlin’,” said the beautiful woman.
“At least, tell me your name to help you. You didn’t look well from where you were with that man. You could say ‘thank you’ and not blab about me calling you ‘darlin’. It’s nothing special, I call every woman the same,” Clyde said, waiting for an apology.
“I am not every woman and from what you said, you’re a flirt and no different from the man you claimed to have saved me from. I was handling it perfectly. I am not a woman trying to impress, I am a woman trying to progress. We are very different,” she retorted.
This was the first time a woman would address him in that manner. She was beautiful, yet rude.
He was familiar with women who would die for an opportunity to just meet him and here was this lady with guts unimaginable.
He liked to think it must have been her guts that drew him to her. He had pursued her from that forward, well, until he left.
He remembered when he first heard and saw her laugh, her laughter was so free and pure, so whimsical, regardless of her adult years.
It came to his ears as a tickle and bob – and just a rough heart could do everything except participate in such liberal joy. She never let her guard down.
She knew what she wanted, and she held her ground. She was strong-willed. She wasn’t cold, she just didn’t take any crap from anyone.
She hated confrontations. She spoke up when she felt she needed to, and stayed quiet when it wasn’t worth any response.
She was old-fashioned in her thinking and prim and proper. She was a contradiction in some sense. She was a walking stanza of a poem.
A few words are shown, but deep in meaning and feeling when you analyze what you saw and heard from her. She never wanted to feel vulnerable. Never allowed herself to be.
In his thoughts, he could see her. In his soul, he feels for her. In his mind, he knows she’s always there. In reality, he knows these are just thoughts.
But in his heart, he would keep wanting her. Yes, he wanted to see, hold, and touch her, but he wasn’t ready.
The mail came at such a bad time when he hadn’t even forgiven himself for what he did to her. And the pregnancy! He had no idea.