We are back to zero point. I am back to living in my house. The doctors said it was okay to move Brianna so I brought her home with me. She needed to leave that place anyway. It holds bad memories.
My fingers tangle in my hair as I try to make sense of the designs staring back at me. It made sense in my head until I put it down. Ed attested to its nicety or did he say that to please me? I slide down the seat, hands dangling from the sides of the swivel chair. There’s a lot of adjustments to make. But I don’t feel like doing anything.
The walls of my office seem to close in on me, I loosen my tie and stagger to the girls’ empty office. The respite is short-lived as I lower myself to the couch. I squeeze a toy frog as the memory comes rushing back. El was pissed. It didn’t matter what I had to say in my defense, she was not hearing it. That woman walked right out of that place with T.
Dude didn’t even flinch when El came out. He wasn’t bothered by what he heard over the phone. For the sake of my leftover dignity, I would have ignored her, at least for that night. But he walked up to her with a coat to drape over her shoulders.
Fucking simp.
He is the reason she keeps acting out because he set a standard of being an idiot. I have never hated anyone this much in a long time but Terrence tops the list. Maybe I should have Damien scare him. It will be nice to put the fool in a freezer for an hour or two.
I bring my phone to check the surveillance camera. It will take a long time before I can completely trust Mia, the caregiver. My hands shake a little as her room comes into view.
Brianna is asleep, the twins are in her room. On her bed. My heart clenches with the warmth that spreads through me, I smile at the playing video like they can see me. It’s a nice feeling. A feeling of contentment. It will be complete if El comes around but for now, I’m satisfied with having my little girls.
A thought niggles me, something I thought I had forgotten. I dial Sophia’s number and she picks on the first ring. “Did you go?” It takes her a second to realise I am talking about her date with Vincent. I hoped for her to skip it. She replies in a cheery tone and the throbbing shifts to my temples. Women don’t listen. “So?” As much as I hate the idea of them being cosy, I need to know if she got anything useful. “Did he say anything about me? Brianna?”
Her exasperated sigh forces my lips into a frown. “It was a date, not an investigation.” She’s snappy. “Is this why you called?” My jaw drops. I stare at my screen to confirm who I am speaking with. It is Sophia. This attitude doesn’t become her and I am not in the mood. “If that’s all, I gotta go. And Vincent says hi.”
A chill skitters down my legs, I redial her number again. She doesn’t pick, I send her a text and my phone rings soon after. She snaps. “What is it?” I need a new set of women in my life. No, scrap that. The girls are the only females I need. I have had enough of them. “Brandon, answer me or I’m ending this call.”
“What do you mean Vincent says hi?” I kick a toy in my path, breath held in my throat.
“Just kidding.”
“Sophia,” I warn.
“Look, El has to deal with your shit but I don’t.” A calm falls on her end, I stop in front of the door of the girls office. Her voice lacks remorse. “Why do you want to ruin what you already have? Sell the shares to her. Don’t be an asshole.” Oh. I see what this is. El is stealing the people I care about and turning them against me. First, it was Joshua, now, Sophia. Well played. A long pause ensues, the phone weighs heavy against my ear. “I was kidding about Vincent. I’m at work but you need to sell the shares to El if that is what she wants. Do it for her.”
I scoff. This is how it is now. I guess it’s fine telling outsiders our business. “Have a good day, Sophia.”
The throbbing in my head intensifies, I wobble back to my desk. The design looks more alien. After minutes of trying to figure them out, I give up. Sophia’s words come back to haunt me, the hurt on El’s face when I refused threatens to strangle me.
It doesn’t matter anymore, she left the party with T.
My phone beeps with a quick succession of notifications. I pick the phone from the table and squint at the Instaagram pop up on my screen.
Since when do I get those? The PR team says Instaagram is good for business, I agree with them as long as I am not the one who has to handle the page. My notifications are disabled but the girls were with my phone for a long while this week. Parenting needs a manual. How to survive a woman should be a book with detailed instructions.
The notification is from El’s page. I—the team follows only ten people and she’s one of those ten. There are five slides in her post with a long caption about the gala. I start swiping. The third slide captures my attention, my blood runs cold and I exit the app without scrolling to the end. I refuse to lose my mind to this woman. She won’t get to me.
Fury zips through me, my hands tremble as I hit the dial button on El’s number.
She is messing with me. She is punishing me.
Fuck.
This is too much of a coincidence.
She doesn’t pick on the first five rings. I try again. I have got all day. My fingers sink into the edge of the desk as I wait. The phone slips from my clammy palm. El is testing me. And today is not the day.
I pick the telephone and ring her office. She picks at once. “El.” An agonised sound leaves her when she realises I am the caller. She wasn’t just with that vile man, she thought it necessary to post a picture of him on her page. So what if he donated to the charity? I can donate too. Did she need to make a whole post about him? Granted, it wasn’t him alone but he’s in it. Her voice snaps me back to the present. “Why the fuck were you with Vincent?”
“Why the fuck are you an asshole?” she retorts.
Okay. I rub the back of my hand against my eyes. We will take this real slow. I release my breath in practised precision. Patience. Lord, I need patience.
When I think I have calmed down, I murmur, “Why do you have a picture of Vincent, the man you know I dislike on your Instaagram?”
One or two seconds pass. I press the phone harder to my ear. The weather is cool but I’m sweating.
“Why do you have a picture of Vincent, the man you know I dislike on your Instaagram?” she mocks. A chill washes over me, my grip on the telephone slacks. The woman speaking to me is ice cold. I want old El back, the caring one. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Brandon. Get over yourself. And don’t call me again except it has to do with the girls.”
The click comes before my reply, I lower the receiver to the desk and rise to my feet.
She cut the call on me. I stare at the telephone and my head jerks. She ended the call. She thinks I need to get over myself. My wife doesn’t want contact with me again. Her words reverberate in my head.
The world doesn’t revolve around me.
It never did.
I slap the files on the table to the floor, hurl the family portrait on the wall. I am an asshole because I want to gift the shares to my daughter? She is posing with my rival yet I am the monster.
The telephone goes flying next. The sickening crack as it meets the wall and slides down to join the broken portrait warms my insides. I let out a snarky growl and kick the desk until my toe screams.
Fucking women. Fucking El.
The door squeaks open and Ed’s head pokes in. “What?” I bark. He flinches. Son of a bitch. How does he expect to survive in this cruel world if he is easily frightened? Fucking pussy. “Are you deaf?”
“No. No, Sir.” Ed steps in. His hand lingers on the door like he’s ready to flee. Coward. He should be friends with El, they can discuss all their fleeing moments. “Just checking to be sure everything is fine.”
Shoulders rigid as my hands sweep over the mess I created, I reply, “Everything is fine. Fucking perfect.”
Ed blanches. His face turns so white I think he might throw up. I take a step back in case that happens. He nods again. “That will be all, Sir.”
It better be. He’s paid to follow orders, not question me. The silence hits harder after he exits my office, I palm my head, rock from side to side to ease the headache. My heart is breaking. It is killing me. The wait for Brianna to be one-hundred percent okay. The soul-chewing desire to know if she is mine.
A sob catches in my chest, I pick my phone and walk out of the office without notifying Ed or Dina.
I keep walking. Walking until my feet hurt and my cheeks are red from the cold and my shoes are soiled. It starts raining but I don’t duck for cover. I am drenched but I keep walking. I don’t think. I don’t feel. I continue until I am at a bus-stop.
The ground is wet with rain, so is the wooden bench but I sit on it anyway. Who cares about a wet bench when my world is spinning out of control? I take deep breaths and pretend I am at Ava’s office.
What would my therapist say?
No idea.
If I wasn’t skipping my sessions, I might have a clue what to do in this situation. I prop my elbows on my knees and clasp my hands behind my neck. Water drips down my hair to my feet, making an exit through the opening. I shiver as the cold sets in.
It could be worse. Brianna’s brain could have been permanently damaged. El could have reminded me about the divorce papers I never signed. But she didn’t. Brianna is fine. Awake. She will get better. I swipe my hand across my nose. It will all work out.
My breathing steadies. I slip my phone out and text Enzo, turning on my location so he can find me.