Hazel's POV

Dammit why won't he pick up!?

I tap my foot impatiently in the lift as I give Edwin one last call. He's never ignored my calls for so long. And now I'm worried sick.

I storm into the house. It's so dark and empty even though it's only 10 o'clock in the morning. Somehow, that only enhances the sick feeling in my stomach. I flick on the lights and draw back the curtains, wondering why Linda hasn't done this. Where is she anyways? Perhaps she’s asleep

"Linda?"

In a few minutes, she comes rushing into the living room.

"Miss Ambrose," she gasps. "I didn't know you'd be back this early. Is there anything you need?"

I stare blankly at her for a few seconds. There’s nothing she can do to help. Even I can’t help myself right now.

She stares back eagerly. I sigh. "Where's Edwin?"

"He left an hour after you did. Didn't say where he was going,” she replies. I curse under my breath.

"Is there a problem, Miss?" she asks. She sounds so concerned that I must reassure her, not wanting to transfer any of my burdens.

“Don't worry, Linda. I'm just a little tired." I turn to leave when she says, "Are you sure?"

I pause, now facing away from her. I can't find the right words to dismiss her. And I fear that if I open my mouth, I'll turn into a sobbing mess. So, I choose to walk away, make my way up the stairs and rush into my bedroom.

***

I've learned how dangerous isolation can be. But nobody needs to see my emotional outbursts of anger as I go through the articles and memes online. I switch off all my devices before I can take any irrational actions to defend myself on social media.

All of this went public so quickly, it's infuriating to think of how satisfied Shannon might be. This must all be a part of her plan.

The rest of the day goes by slowly. I manage to have a small lunch at the kitchen counter as Linda finishes up her usual chores. Then I go up to my study to go through all the files from the last three months to see if I missed anything. There is no link. Nothing to back up Shannon's statement except for Father's will and a flimsy letter, written by him apparently, saying that she would take up after him. But his signature is evidently printed on both documents and it haunts me.

By evening, I decide to take a bath, wishing that I could soak away the overwhelming feeling that I've had from the second I saw Shannon again. But soon the scent of lavender and lemongrass begins to suffocate me, and I have no choice but to get out of the bathtub, dry myself off and settle in the living room.

It's about 9pm when Linda walks over and hands me a glass of red wine.

I frown. "I didn't ask you to--"

"I know. Forgive me, Miss but I can see the stress written all over your face. Whatever it is, I hope you recover soon."

I sigh. "Thank you, Linda." I guess she hasn’t seen the news on twitter. Or maybe she has. She smiles. "Have a good night."

I've decided to wait patiently in the living room until Edwin returns. There's no point in trying to call him again.

It is becoming increasingly difficult to remain patient, but a big part of me believes that I'll feel better after I see him. That makes it all worth it.

***

I glance at the wall clock, barely able to make out the time in the dim lights. It's 10pm now.

It's nice to finally come up for air after being buried deep in my work for so long. Still, I don't feel peaceful.

I already miss the comfort of working.

I'm waiting to wake up from this dreadful dream so that my life can continue. Sadly, every bit of me knows that this is reality. I sigh, wondering if I should give up the wait and go to bed. Being left alone to my thoughts is a burden I am in no position to bear at this moment.

Just then, I hear footsteps behind me. I stand quickly, eagerly, and turn to face him, regretting it as soon as I feel a wave of dizziness.

I grab my head between my palms to stop the room from spinning around me.

"Are you okay?"

He rushes over to me. I smack his hand away before he can touch me. "Where have you been and why haven't you returned any of my calls?" I snap.

"I told you I was going to see an old friend. We just got carried away at the bar and I thought you'd be asleep by now," he replies.

"I called you in the middle of the day." How could he get so carried away for hours?

"Christ Hazel," he breathes, whipping out his phone from his back pocket and switching it on. "You left me this many calls? What the hell is going on?"

His phone is buzzing with notifications. Probably with messages and posts about me that he hasn’t seen yet. I have to look away. And even after I avoid his eyes, it's difficult to say it.

"I..."

I exhale. If not for the alcohol in my system I would probably be in a far worse condition than this.

"I lost everything, Edwin." His expression shifts from one of annoyance to worry.

"You should sit. Tell me what happened." But the longer and deeper I think about it, the harder it is to bear. I sink slowly into the chair behind me, and he sits right beside me. "Shannon. She showed up at the board meeting today and..." I swallow the lump that has formed in my throat.

"And?"

"She showed me proof of her legal ownership of the company. My father. He left everything to her.”

"You're telling me your stepmother owns the company now? Has this gone public?" he asks, inching closer.

I nod.

He seems far too stunned to speak. Who wouldn't be?

So, he just wraps his arms around me, and we sit in silence for a while.

And I wait. I wait for the feeling of comfort and safety to return, because I've been sitting here for hours, needing him to show up and give me just that.

Instead, all I get is the unshakable feeling that today has only marked the beginning of my misery.

"Do you think you're going to be okay?" he says finally.

I hold onto him tighter. I have always been open to possibilities. I can predict every possible outcome within seconds. It's what makes me so good at my job. 

But I can't see through the cloud of my own thoughts. I can't give him the assurance that I won't break any moment from now. 

He stares down at my fingers as they claw and squeeze the life out of his shirt. 

It may have come as a stupid, fleeting thought, but it has caused me nothing but anxiety. The fear that like everything else that matters to me, he will be taken away from me. 

"Not if I lose you too."