(Hiraya POV)
I am already feeling better. These past few days, as I waited for my shoulder to heal, I did nothing but rest, and now I am very bored... and very hungry.
Sighing as I think about opening my empty fridge that echoes with memories of the scent of my mum's cooking and my favourite dishes, I gingerly sit up, testing my shoulder by rotating it carefully. Feeling confident enough that it won't fall out of its socket again anytime soon, I take another deep breath before heading to the kitchen and stare in disgust at the sink.
Of course, it is a mess. I haven't been able to wash the dishes in over a week, and now they've piled up, making me want to cry again. "Maybe I should just go back to bed…" I groan, rubbing my face with both hands. Not that it would improve the state of my kitchen. There is no one else who can take care of it but me.
I have the strongest urge to cry 'mommy'...but it would be fruitless, so I soldier on and determinedly march forward to deal with my enemy: the dirty dishes. "F*ck my life," I mutter as I see the growing moulds and encrusted grease, the hardened leftover food sticking like barnacles to a ship... and all the other unmentionables that make me want to throw up as the odour hits me. It permeates the air around the sink, and I run to the bin and start dry heaving...nothing. Because I haven't eaten, which makes it even more painful.
Even before the accident, when everything was alright with my world, I despised washing the dishes. They have always been the bane of my existence. Now, I have no choice but to do it myself, because no one else will do it for me. As I sag against the wall, sweat pouring down my temples, and my mouth tasting like bile, I vaguely remember the encounter that led me to have a sink full of dirty dishes.
I wonder if that man…Kaan… is feeling much improved. He probably is completely healed. After all, he has a battalion of people who work for him, and he doesn’t even need to lift a finger. By this time, I can almost bet the lucky bastard is looking for ways to kill himself again. I start to feel resentful and bitter, and I try to shake off the feeling, but it’s hard. Life is so unfair. I wonder if I would win if I sued him for what had happened. With my luck, I would probably end up losing the case anyway, even if I had every reason to win.
Feeling more depressed, I stand up and try to open the window to let in some fresh air and also to let the bad smell out. Convincing myself I just need to let the air circulate a little before tackling the dishes again, I force myself out of the kitchen, hoping that what Elijah, Kaan’s secretary, told me about my car being fixed is true. For now, I need to get to the store to buy some eggs and veggies.
My stomach grumbles like an old man at the thought of eating miserable soup again. Sure, it’s healthy and good for me, but what I really crave is meat and lots of it, possibly grilled, with richly seasoned potatoes, lots of bread, and buttery gravy. If only my wallet could afford it. "This too shall pass," I tell myself as I get changed so I can go to the supermarket. I have to convince myself things will get better, or else how am I supposed to go on? Manifesting is the key, right? I mean…I almost got the coma wish come true…maybe if I try harder, I’d actually get it right this time. No more extra words, just straight to the point, “I wish for a bag of untraceable, hard cash.” Yeah, that’s exactly it.
Weak from hunger and lack of exercise lately, I make my way to my car, praying Elijah had been a man of his word, and that the car has been fixed. To my utter delight, it starts without any issues, and to his credit, the man has even made sure that the gas tank is full to the brim! Yay for small victories!
I smile. “See? Things are looking up already. One just needs to maintain a positive attitude, right?” I mumble to myself.
Oh, Heavens! I notice that my car has even been cleaned, inside and out! The man is so efficient and really did a great job. Although, it must be so easy when one never has to worry about money. Someday, I want that kind of security for myself. Of course, I would need to be able to keep a job before I can do that, though. I wonder if Kaan can help me with that? Maybe they have an opening in one of his companies. It doesn’t need to be a higher-up position, I’m willing to work hard from way down.
Oh, but it would be so embarrassing to ask! He did give me his mobile phone number, and he said to call him if I needed anything, but like... how am I even going to start the conversation? We have nothing in common, and we haven’t talked since the accident. I wasn’t even very nice to him during our conversation, my frustrations pouring out like venom upon meeting someone so reckless, so willing to throw his life away despite having everything I ever wanted...
I grimace. Yeah, he probably hates my guts. What was I thinking? Well, I wasn’t, back then. I was in pain, I’d just lost another job, and I was desperate. Not a very good combo. Still... what was HE thinking doing dangerous things like that!? Didn’t he know how precious life is? How fragile and absolutely fleeting? Did he not have people who love him, worrying about his safety?
What a dvmb@ss.
I park my car at the nearest grocery shop parking lot I could find. Just because I have a full tank doesn’t mean it’s infinite. I would have walked if I had the energy to, just to save the gas. Who knows when my car will experience it again?
I am about to open the door when I see something on the dashboard that I haven’t noticed before. An envelope, with my name on it. It has a number that says “Please call as soon as you’re feeling better.”
I frown. There’s nothing else. Not a clue as to why I have to call the number. I hesitate, thinking it must be something that needs paying again. But what if it’s important?
“Oh, bollocks,” I mutter as I search the number on G****e first. It appears to be a lawyer’s office, and judging from the website, a fancy one at that. My heart starts pounding. Why should I call the fancy lawyer? I gasp. Is he suing me!? That can’t be right, the accident wasn’t even my fault! I was minding my own business when he just suddenly dropped from the sky and injured me in the process!
As I start to hyperventilate from stress, I try to make sense of what could be the reason I should talk to a lawyer. Maybe I've got this wrong. Maybe the rich dude is offering me compensation after what happened. Yeah, that could be the reason. I mean, what else could it be? But what if it isn't? What if it's more bills to pay? What if...
I put my face in my palms and scream in frustration. What is wrong with me!? Now I'm terrified of everything! I need to get a hold of myself! If this turns out to be more bad luck, I will just...I don't know. Fake my own death and start anew, somewhere else. Which is dvmb, of course. It's not like I can escape my fate, not with my kind of luck. And without any money, I won't be going very far.
I take deep calming breaths as I prep myself to dial the number on my mobile phone. To my shame, I almost peed myself from utter relief when my phone tells me I have no credit left to be able to place the call.
I shove my phone in my bag. "Oh well, better luck next time, buddy..." I mutter. Just as I am locking the door of the car, though, my mobile phone begins to ring loudly and I jump in fear. An unknown caller.
I stare at the number on the screen, willing it to go away. After a bit, the phone stops ringing and I sigh in relief, but it starts to ring again immediately after that and I almost drop my mobile. Deciding this is not worth stressing over for a long time, I answer the call.
"H...Hello?"
"Miss Raya? This is Elijah, Mr. Walton's secretary. I'm sorry for disturbing you, but I have been told you still haven't contacted the number I left on your dashboard, and I was wondering if perhaps there is a problem?"
The problem is that I'm a stressed scaredy-cat who doesn't want to call unknown numbers for unknown reasons.
I clear my throat. "Um...no, I'm sorry, I didn't...I didn't see the note, I just...I just got out of bed." I lie, hoping I can get away with it. I did try to call, I just didn't have enough credit. But I'm not telling him that.
"I understand. I urge you to call the number as soon as you can so we may settle the arrangements as soon as possible—”
"Wait, wait, wait!" I stop him. "Settle the what now?"
Elijah clears his throat. "I apologise, it seems you might have been a little unwell during our last conversation. Let me explain it again. As the injured party during the accident last week, my boss is willing to pay you, with everything written down for both parties, a settlement amount that will be acceptable, with the premise that you agree to keep what happened private. The lawyer will let you know the details, should you decide to talk to him yourself or you can give his number to your lawyer if you choose to be represented by one."
I laugh. Like I can afford a lawyer. "Um, I'll talk to the lawyer myself."
"Very good."
I buy some groceries and credit for my phone to be able to place the call, rolling my eyes when a snooty voice answers from the lawyer's office, letting me know the attorney is not in but she will take a message. I tell her my name, and the snooty voice immediately becomes more friendly and tells me she is actually expecting the call. She says that she is supposed to give me an appointment whenever I'm free to come to the office. I tell her I'll come by tomorrow, and she approves it at my earliest convenience.
I stare at my phone in confusion after the call. "What the hell was that?"
The next day, wearing the best clothes I can find, given the fanciness I expect to find, I present myself to the fancy lawyer's office and tell the snooty sounding secretary my name. They do not even keep me waiting. I am herded directly to the private office and served coffee with extra cream and a bowl of beautiful sugar cubes. I am almost tempted to pour the whole lot inside my purse.
The lawyer that greets me pleasantly goes straight to business after the mandatory pleasantries. "Fifty thousand dollars."
(Kaan’s POV)This will be the last one. I swear.I stare in dismay at the beautiful array of food before me, particularly at the plate of elegantly designed hors d'oeuvres. Despite the almost miserly portion, they look exquisite and tempting. The plate is a simple white ceramic platter that allows the colourful and intricate hors d'oeuvres to stand out. It is lined with a bed of fresh, vibrant green herbs, which I believe to be parsley, adding a pop of colour and freshness to the presentation. In the centre of the platter is a small bowl of creamy hummus, garnished with a drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkle of paprika. Surrounding the hummus are several small, colourful bites arranged in a symmetrical pattern. The first bite is a skewer of cherry tomatoes and mini mozzarella balls, drizzled with a balsamic glaze and topped with a fresh basil leaf. The second bite is a small slice of smoked salmon wrapped around a dollop of herbed cream cheese and garnished with a tiny sprig of dill.
(Raya POV)(Trigger warning: dark thoughts of someone at her very low point, tempted to take her own life. Remember to always be kind to others, we never know the hardships one is going through and sometimes it's the small gestures that can save someone.)F*ck my life. I stare ahead, glassy-eyed, not even noticing the cars passing along the street before me. My car is gone, and I am about to lose my home as well. I went from having almost nothing to receiving over fifty grand, only to lose it all again due to a court order for asset seizure. My parents had left me some very unpleasant surprises - debts upon unpaid debts that are way past their due dates - and now I have nothing again. Nothing, and I am about to lose even more. Sometimes I wonder why I bother trying. It's as if fate is conspiring against me, pushing me to the edge of my sanity just to see when I will snap and some perverse deity can win a bet on how strong and resilient an orphaned girl can be. And of course, somehow
(Kaan’s POV)My first thought when I saw her cross the street without caring if she would get run over or hit by cars was, "You crazy woman! Are you trying to get yourself killed?" And then I saw her gripping the rail with such desperation, and I thought, "No, she was asking for help, and no one stopped to give it, only blaring their horns furiously, probably thinking she was merely a careless person who wanted to save time by crossing the street away from the pedestrian lane."I watched her for a few minutes from the other side of the road, wondering what she was planning to do. She couldn't possibly be thinking of jumping down the small irrigation system; it was too shallow, and she would just end up getting hurt. Moreover, it was smelly.When she gracefully refused my offer of dinner, despite being so obviously starved, I knew there was no way I was leaving that place without taking her with me. It took a little bit of gentle persuasion, but I have never felt such pride in a simple
(Raya POV) "...why don't you just hire a surrogate? I might even consider being a candidate if the pay is good." Just a few minutes ago, I was sobbing, feeling humiliated instead of grateful for the pity job offer. I know he means well, but my pride is stinging, and I can't help feeling this way. It's been a long, difficult day, and here I sit, being fed by a kind stranger who has everything she needs and has no problem risking it all for a few seconds of adrenaline high. Life just feels so unfair… But the drink must have started affecting me because now I find myself laughing, braying like a donkey at my own joke. My laughter dies down awkwardly because he doesn't join in. "Hmm… Actually, that's not a bad idea," he says pensively, more to himself than to me. I must be drunk because I feel myself sober right up. "Wha— no! I was just trying to be funny. What's wrong with you!?" I say sourly. "Hey, I'm not the one who came up with the idea." "Well, you shouldn't even be considering
(Kaan’s POV) I sigh as I close the door to the room Raya is in and head to the kitchen to put the bags of takeaway food on the table. As always, the place is spotless because my housekeeper comes in daily to make sure everything is in order, with not a speck of dust in sight. I don’t know what Raya is going to do for me tomorrow when she wakes up, in exchange for sleeping here tonight. I would have to mess up the place a little for her to be able to do something, but it seems a bit extreme. And I do hate clutter and mess. D@mn, what am I even doing, bringing her here? I mean…sure, we clicked and I had a great time but I could have just hailed a taxi and sent her home. Or called my driver for an overtime gig, he would have come. But for some reason, I didn’t. I couldn’t. I experienced extraordinary fear for the first time tonight. It’s an unfamiliar emotion because I never felt it for any of the extreme sports I ever tried. I never blanched in front of the highest jump, the deepe
(Raya’s POV) It was a disaster, one after the other. My phone’s alarm clock did not do its only job, but then, I can only blame myself, because how would the blo0dy calculator know that it was supposed to wake me up? Yes, I wrote 630 on the calculator, instead of setting my alarm at 6:30 a.m. and only my bladder saved me from sleeping until my next lifetime. I must have been so tired when I set it up. Anyway, I had a moment of panic when I woke up this morning and did not recognise the room. Then everything came rushing back and I sighed as I stood up to go to the bathroom, doing my early morning ablutions in a rush so I could start paying my debt for last night’s dinner and lodgings. My clothes had not yet dried after I washed them last night so I decided the bathrobe would do while I waited and then I went out of the guestroom to see what I could do today to help out. Nothing. The place was immaculately clean. Does he have OCD? In my experience, bachelor’s places are usually
(Raya POV) He stares at me pensively while leaning against the door. I stare back, waiting for him to give me a proper explanation. He sighs as he walks back to the table. “Do you know why I was at the pub last night, Raya?” I blink in confusion, trying to remember what he said his problem was but my mind is drawing a blank at the moment. “I…” It would be so embarrassing to admit I don’t clearly remember so I take a deep breath and cautiously say “I thought you weren’t being serious.” He chuckles as he sits back on his chair. He wraps his hands around his giant mug of coffee and stares at it, without really seeing it. “On the contrary. The woman you saw with my parents just now, Ms. Westley? I was on a dinner date with her last night before I ended up in the pub.” “Oh?” Again, the twisted little painful stab in my chest that I don’t even want to think about anymore. He glances at me before staring back at his cup, tracing the rim with his forefinger absent-mindedly, around an
(Raya POV)“Be my pretend mate…” He tells me, explaining a little what it entails and I gawk at him. “...by the end of which, we will part as good friends and… I will pay you ten million dollars.”Ten million dollars. An absurd amount tossed like that as if it was nothing. I would have believed him more if he’d said ten grand…It’s still a preposterous amount for someone like me, but at least it’s reasonable. So he’s gotta be sh*tting me, right? Ten million dollars, my sweet patootie! There’s no way he’s serious. Well, two can play this game…I close my mouth, the lower part of which must have dropped to the ground with the mention of ten million bucks, and I try to keep a bland expression on my face, although the way his lips twist in amusement tells me I am unsuccessful with my effort so I just roll my eyes instead.“You never really explained what a mate is and why you called me such.”He acknowledges it with a nod as he beckons me to sit with him in the living room.“I had to cla