Chapter 11: Unforgiving Love

The office was almost unrecognizable at night. The humming of printers and footsteps that filled the air during the day were gone, replaced by a silence so heavy it seemed to press against the walls. Only a few lights remained on, pools of gold against the endless glass windows overlooking the city. 

Richard and I were the only ones left. 

I had told myself I’d stay late to finish paperwork, but deep down, I knew it was more than that. Something about him pulled me in not just his authority or presence, but the fragments of vulnerability I’d seen cracking through his usual control. 

“He was… an alcoholic. The kind that leaves scars you can’t see. He’d come home drunk and… lash out. Sometimes words, sometimes worse.” My throat tightened. “Cassandra took the worst of it. She always stood between us. She became my shield. She worked herself raw just to make sure I could be more than just another broken piece of that house.” 

Richard’s brow furrowed, but before I could go on, he interrupted. 

“But it doesn’t seem that way.” 

I blinked at him. “What do you mean?” 

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his desk. “At the gala, I saw her how sharp she was with you, how she seemed to keep you at a distance. And then later, she came to me, praising you, convincing me to take you under my wing. The two don’t match. It’s… confusing.” 

The sting of his words burned, not because he was wrong, but because he had noticed. 

“That’s Cassandra,” I said quietly, steadying my voice. “She’s complicated. To most people, she looks like she doesn’t care selfish, controlling, proud. And sometimes she is. But underneath all of that? She’s the reason I even have this chance. She took care of me when no one else would. She worked jobs she hated, spent sleepless nights just to make sure I had food, that I could stay in school. She even bought the house we live in, Richard. She was just a teenager, but she became… everything. Mother, father, sister. Her love isn’t soft. It’s harsh, brutal sometimes. But it’s love all the same.” 

For the first time since I’d met him, Richard looked unsettled not by anger, but by something heavier, as if my words struck a place inside him he kept tightly locked. 

“It seems contradictory,” he muttered. 

“It is,” I admitted. “But love isn’t perfect. And neither is family.” 

The silence that followed was thick, like the weight of my confession had shifted something in the room. Richard’s eyes, usually so unreadable, softened just slightly. 

“I gave everything to someone once.” His voice was almost a whisper, but it cut through the quiet like glass breaking. 

I froze, my breath caught. 

“I walked away from everything my parents, their wealth, the life they wanted for me. I thought I was choosing love. I was disowned, cut off. I didn’t care, because I believed she was worth it.” He let out a laugh, bitter and sharp. “But when the money ran out, so did she. No explanations, no hesitation. Just gone.” 

My chest ached at the hollowness in his voice. 

“I was left with nothing,” he went on, his jaw tightening. “Not family, not love, not even dignity. I had to rebuild everything from the ground up. Alone.” He looked at me then, his gaze burning but fragile all at once. “I thought love was supposed to mean sacrifice. But all it did was destroy me.” 

I swallowed hard, my throat thick. “Richard…” 

He shook his head, staring down at his desk as though the memories were etched into the wood. “Don’t be sorry. Just… don’t make the same mistake.” 

For a long moment, neither of us moved. The city lights flickered beyond the glass, but inside, the world had gone still. And in that fragile, raw silence, I realized I was seeing Richard as no one else had unguarded, broken, real. 

This night would stay with me. Forever. 

By the time I got home, it was 11:40. The house was dim, the only light spilling from the living room. Cassandra sat on the couch, her knees pulled close, her face pale and streaked with tears. 

She shot up as soon as I stepped through the door. “Where have you been?” Her voice shook, not with anger alone, but with fear. 

“At the office,” I said flatly, slipping off my shoes. 

“At the office?” Her voice rose, breaking. “Do you have any idea what time it is? I called you ten times, Selena! Ten!” 

I rubbed my forehead, exhaustion dragging at me. “I’m not a child, Cassandra.” 

Her face twisted, hurt, anger, panic all colliding. And before I could register it, her hand struck my cheek, sharp and stinging. 

The sound cracked through the silence. 

I froze, my hand flying to my cheek, my eyes wide. 

“I was worried sick,” Cassandra whispered, her breath uneven. “You don’t answer, you don’t explain, do you know what that does to me?” 

My chest burned. “I told you, I’m not a child! I don’t need to report to you every second of my life!” 

Her eyes blazed, her voice breaking. “Then act like it, Selena! Because right now, all I see is someone reckless someone who doesn’t care about the people who love her!” 

The words pierced me, but instead of softening, they ignited something inside. 

“Love?” I snapped. “You don’t love me you control me. You suffocate me. You think because you took care of me, you own me. But I’m not yours, Cassandra. I just want to breathe for once without you hovering over me!” 

She stared at me like I’d struck her. Her lips trembled, but no words came. 

The silence between us stretched, poisonous. My chest heaved, and I couldn’t bear to see her face any longer. I turned on my heel, stormed down the hall, and slammed my door so hard the walls shook. 

The echo of it rang in the stillness. 

I leaned against the door, breath ragged, my cheek still throbbing where she’d hit me. Through the wood, I could hear Cassandra’s muffled sobs. 

And Richard’s voice echoed in my mind. Don’t make the same mistake. 

But wasn’t I already making it? 

I pressed my palms against my face, tears stinging my eyes. The night felt endless, suffocating. And just as I began to crumble, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. 

My heart lurched. 

Richard. 

His name lit up the screen, the glow cutting through the darkness of my room. 

I stared, torn between answering and letting it ring. My breath caught, my pulse racing. Why was he calling me now? 

With trembling fingers, I reached for the phone 

And froze as the call continued to ring, the unanswered question hanging heavy in the night.