Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The buzzing sound from Suzanne's bag interrupted the moment, giving her the perfect distraction she needed from the tense situation.

She looked apologetically at Michael, as she digged her hand in her bag to silent the call. "I'm so sorry about the interruption..."

"No. Go ahead. You can pick it up." Michael replied casually.

"Thank you," Suzanne whispered, connecting the line. She was too anxious to even look at the caller. "Hello..."

"You trick-ish shameless dog. Get your ass back in the house this instance!" A howling cruel voice erupted from the other end, startling Suzanne in the process. Embarrassed, knowing Michael definitely heard the statement, she pulled the cellphone away from her ear and stared down at the caller ID. It was Davey's mother, Leah Hawthorne.

"Mother, I'm..."

"Are you giving me excuses right now? Get yourself right before me now! I don't want to know where you are or what you're doing. Get back here!" The line clicked in her ear, and Suzanne quietly returned the cellphone into her bag.

"So...we...huh...will you accept my proposal, Mr. O'Connor?" Suzanne asked, staring at her fingers instead. She was too embarrassed to make an eye contact now.

"Was that really your mother?" Michael asked instead, ignoring Suzanne's question.

Suzanne glanced up at him, and shook her head. "That...was my mother-in-law. She wants me back at the house, and it seems urgent. But I will just go when I'm done here."

"Go." Michael approved.

"But...but we are not done here." Suzanne protested softly.

"I will let you know through my assistant. Go on." He insisted, speaking softly this time.

Suzanne paused, considering Michael's words. One look at him, and she knew he was not merely cruising with her. Appreciatively, she picked her bag, and stood up.

"Thank you," she cleared her throat, managed to raise her head high a little bit, and scurried out of the restaurant.

***********

As soon as Suzanne stepped into the house, Leah rushed up from where she sat, and smacked her palm hard against her face, cursing loudly.

"You are nothing but a sly bitch, Suzanne. All you've ever done is cause nothing but unnecessary troubles. What the hell do you still want? How dare you ask my son to delay the divorce? What exactly are you hoping to achieve!" Leah yelled into Suzanne's red face.

Suzanne, half puzzled and half amuzed turned to look at the older woman, and a tear she couldn't control rolled off one eye as she glared.

"Why does everything feel like they can just raise their hands and smack me in the face?" Suzanne demanded with a quivering voice.

"What? Is that question for me?" Leah asked, and laughed as she adjusted the sleeves of her cream coloured t-shirt. She was a woman in her early fifties, but she still looked as young as women in their thirties. Her neck was beautifully adorned with gold necklaces, showcasing how much wealth she controlled.

"Yes, you can say whatever you want. But that won't stop you from leaving this house after your stupid two months. Arlan is down now, you have no one behind you." Leah's voice was laced with contempt and disgust.

Suzanne took in a deep breath, wiped off her face, and wore her usual smile before responding. "I don't plan on staying after two months either, Mrs. Hawthorne. So, you have nothing to worry about."

Leah stepped closer to Suzanne, her careful gaze on her face, searching. Prompting.

"What exactly are you up to, huh? What are you hoping to achieve within this very few months? My eyes will be on you, I won't let you hurt my family..."

"What's happening?" Davey's voice suddenly sounded from the top of the stairs, interrupting his mother. He was dressed casually in a deep blue t-shirt and black pants, his hair still wet from showering.

As he walked down the stairs, Suzanne turned to look at him. He was undeniably handsome, reminding her so much of Michael. Despite her situation, she couldn't help but wonder who looked more handsome.

"I'm just putting this woman in her place, son. She is suspicious, make sure to be carefully around her."

"I thought you already left, mom. Go on, it's getting late." Davey dismissed his mother, his eyes on Suzanne.

"I will be here tomorrow, Leah picked up her bag and car keys, and added, "definitely," as she walked past Suzanne, and left the house.

Davey cleared his throat, stole a brief glance at Suzanne. "Forget whatever she said. She's only annoyed." He muttered, brushed past her, and walked out as well.

Suzanne, now alone, found herself a good chair, and broke into tears. She thought she could do this without letting her emotions get the best of her, but it was harder than she thought it would be. She thought she could be strong for herself, and face the world head-on, but it was getting hard even when she'd barely started.

Her cell began to vibrate in her bag, and sniffing, she slowly pulled it out, and connected the line.

"Hello?" Suzanne's voice came out in an unwanted whisper.

"Have you been crying?"

Suzanne's half closed eyes widened in shock as she immediately recognized the voice from the other line.

"Mr. O'Connor??" She gasped in shock.

"Drop the formalities and call me Michael."

"How...how did you get my line?" Suzanne asked, already up on her feet.

"That's not necessary. What you should know is that I'm saying yes to your proposal." Michael cut in.

"What?" Suzanne gasped with excitement. She didn't think it would be easy to get Michael O'Connor to agree to her proposal. She was elated.

The news automatically made her day. Yes, she was getting somewhere!

After Michael had dropped the call, Suzanne quickly dialled Naomi's line to announce the good news.

"He accepted, Naomi! Michael accepted! I'm shocked at how easy it turned out." Suzanne squeaked happily into the receiver.

"Michael? You call...him by his name now?" Naomi stammered.

"He said to drop formalities. I guess it is to make things easier. Thank you, Naomi. I will buy you lunch tomorrow. This was possible with your connection."

"Oh... really? Okay...I have to hang up now. See you tomorrow." Naomi quickly ended the call, not waiting to hear Suzanne's response.

*

In the quiet space of her bunker room, Naomi sat in front of her desk, an old computer with a spreadsheet of Michael O'Connor's daily schedule on the screen. The glow of the monitor reflected in her pupils, turning them into dark, bottomless pools.

She stared directly at the large portrait resting against the wall right in front of her, her eyes wide and unblinking. It was midnight, and she had not been able to sleep since Suzanne's call.

"Michael? She can call you Michael, huh?" Naomi shook sudden with tears as she asked the large portrait in front of her.

It was the portrait of Michael O'Connor, almost life-sized portrait of him, resting boldly against the wall. Around Naomi, the air hung thick with a strange, stagnant energy.

The walls were papered, not with wallpaper, but with countless images of Michael. His face seemed to be everywhere all over the room. Candid shots seemingly captured from afar, corporate headshots clipped from the company website, even blurry images pulled from his social media – all meticulously arranged in a chaotic, almost frantic collage.

Some were circled, some had lines drawn to connect them, others were defaced with hearts. The lighting was dim, a single lamp casting long shadows across the room, illuminating the disturbing collection.

"Just meeting her for a day, and she can already call you by your fucking name?" Naomi yelled out again at the portrait, her eyes red with tears.

How did Suzanne do it? What did she offer the cold-hearted man that would never even look her way twice?

"What am I going to do, my love? I can't let her take you away." Naomi sobbed, letting her tears wet the books on the desk.