I went home straight home afterwards, intending to finish up whatever I can there. I have two options left on how to win tomorrow, however, I would have to wait to get the results of the two ways and there’s no better place for me to go and wait, than at home. I would lose my mind if I go back to work, especially not after I had told Amy I am going home. Regardless, she knows the importance of the task I gave her, which is one of the ways I am waiting for.
The other being Crystal, but she’s a card I’m not willing to use so soon. It will too much of a hassle, the Amy matter seems easier to handle, and will require less of me doing something that will be considered illegal, and let’s be honest, I don’t like having blood on my hands-figuratively of course.
So, rather than going down that lane, I will focus on waiting for the first option. I’m good at waiting anyways.
Upon stepping foot in my apartment, I found myself stopping-the feeling of the air in the place have changed. It is hard to point a finger at, but there’s feeling one gets that when, let’s say you keep something of yours in one place, but someone moves it to another. The moment you see it though, you will know it has been shifted.
That’s the kind of feeling I have, only this time, there’s nothing of mine that has been changed, just the air in the place feels different. Taking off my shoes by the entrance, I carefully slipped into the awaiting flip flops there before making my way in, alert on whether something, or someone will jump out of nowhere.
My alertness though toned down a notch when I stepped foot in the living room, and was welcomed by the sight of someone I wasn’t exactly expecting to see here at this moment. He had his full attention on the TV ahead, as the News caster rambled on about the prices of apartments whatsoever and weirdly enough, he had his attention on it as well, unmoving.
I could tell it was him from his side view though, if not for his Personal Assistant standing beside him stiffly, arms crossed in front of him with a tablet in his hold.
“Dad?” I called out, my shoulders slumping as I approached them.
Both my father and his personal assistant looked up at the same time-my father’s lips slanted into a welcoming smile instantly. “Vivien!” He extended his hand out to me, and without a second though, I took it and leaned down to give him a small embrace. “You are back early,” He commented, “thought you would stay up late at the company again.” I knew what he wanted to add, but didn’t. He thought I would bury myself at work figuring out a way to win the shareholders’ on my side considering what is going to happen tomorrow. He need not say it, I understand.
“Hello, Anderson.” I offered the silver haired man, my father’s assistant and honestly closest friend a small smile and a nod of acknowledgement before settling down beside my father.
“Lady Vivien.” Anderson offered me a small nod back, accompanied with that warm, fatherly smile of his which makes the corner of his eyes crinkle. “Delighted to meet your acquaintance again.” He said, as if he did not practically watch me grow being my father’s assistant for nearly thirty years-or so I have heard.
Safe to say though, he is a second father to me, for he has been there for me as much as my father has-only, he remained formal no matter the situation no matter how many times I tried to get him to soften up.
“Good to see you too, old man.” I resorted to saying, earning myself the tiniest, upper curl of his lips-the most he can offer one before he looked away, focusing back on the TV though I doubt he gives a flying shit about it.
With our conversation having come to an end, I shifted my attention back to my father. “Dad,” I called out, facing him completely. “Why are you here?”
His lips parted, as he gave me an incredulous look. “What? Am I not welcomed into my own daughter’s home?” He feigned a look of being hurt, his hand going to the spot where his heart is. “That hurts me, right here.”
I was quick to shake my head, because even though I know he’s feigning it, the last thing I want to do is upset him, especially not in his condition. “No, no, no. Of course, not. You’re always welcomed.”
His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Or do you have a man tucked away in here whom you do not want me to know of?”
I pressed my lips together, waving it off. “Definitely not.” I gave him a deadpanned look. “And do not joke about you being hurt like that. Speaking of which, when last did you see your doctor?”
He hummed, leaning back on the couch, his gaze still on me. “I see you’ve forgotten our deal with how you’re asking me that.”
I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes as I threw my head back. “Seriously, dad?” I pinned him down with a look. “We are not having this conversation now.”
“Fine by me.” He shrugged. “Then, we are not having the conversation about my dying heart as well.” He shifted his gaze from me to the TV, feigning the look of being unbothered but I knew better.
I scoffed under my breath, staring at him incredulously. Remind me again whether my father is a five-year-old? Because he has the stubbornness of one. “Dad!” I exclaimed, but he didn’t even bat an eye lid in my direction. I released a huffed breath, “How can you even compare the two, especially with your heart condition?”
He flicked his gaze to mine, his determination hard to miss. “What’s wrong with comparing my death to asking you to find someone to settle down with?” He asked, as if it’s the most rational thing. “All I want, if for you to find someone so that even when I’m gone, you will not be alone with the wolves.”
“Don’t say that,” I was quick to stop him, my eyes narrowed. “You’d live a hundred years more if you just agree to get the heart surgery!” We’ve been on this for months, and I still cannot believe how much more stubborn this old man could get when we are talking about his health-a matter of life or death. “You only have a month more to the deadline the doctor gave for the transplant. Will you really throw your life away over me not getting married?”
“Yes.” He answered without so much as a second thought, or batting an eye lid.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.