Traumas and bleeding heart

I hurried into our home.

“Where is Oliver?” I asked as the maid helped me out of my shoes at the door.

“Asleep in his nursery, ma'am.”

“Asleep?” I asked, wide-eyed as I hurriedly slipped into a pair of house slippers. 

The maid stood up, and stretched both hands out with a bow.

“He was fed, and then fell asleep. He is fine, Ma’am.”

I hurriedly pushed my purse into her outstretched hands and hurried away. I had to see for myself. 

I was slowly becoming an anxious mom, and it had not even been a week since I finally revealed myself to the world.

Could I really handle this madness? 

What would happen when I revealed Oliver to the world? How much more chaotic would it get?

Every day, I found myself second guessing my revenge decision more and more. 

Was it not better to maybe fly back to the US with my son?

“Ma’am.” the maid hurried beside me as I took the stairs up, two at a time. “Your father is also in the nursery.”

That halted me, “What?”

The maid bowed and kept her head down.

I sighed and continued towards the nursery. 

I quickly bowed to my father, before I rushed towards Oliver’s crib and gently placed my hand on his chest. 

He was breathing fine, with no fever.

“You are so like your mother.” My father spoke up from where he stood behind, watching me.

“Everyone says the opposite, that I look like you.” I finally turned around to look at the man who had birthed me, but I would have probably walked past on the road because I had not seen him enough times to recognize him in any condition.

“They don’t have eyes. You walk and speak confidently like her.”

I turned away, and crossed my arms over my chest. 

That confidence he spoke of only came after that horrible night. 

Before then, I was a timid little girl who would rather run than face any confrontations head on.

“Why did you come to the country?” I asked finally. 

The one question that had been on my mind since I saw the picture of him all tied up on Ophelia’s phone. 

“There is not one reason.”

“I have time.” I said, and walked off to sit on a couch in the room. “If I am going to be hosting you in my home, I should at least know your purpose of visit.”

My voice came out a little harsher than I intended, and I looked away when my father looked up at me.

“I don’t know you,” he said.

“What?” I looked up wide-eyed. What did he mean by that? Could he even be surprised that I would speak like that to a father I had only ever met twice?

“You are my daughter and even after your mother died, you were left to weather the storm of raising a child alone.”

“I was not alone,” I said even as tears burned the back of my throat and my eyes began to itch at the memory of my pregnancy and postpartum period.

Kan had only provided financially, and hated it when I got too close. And all that time, I was still in mourning for my mother and my child’s death.

My father started to walk closer, and then stopped.

“Who were those people who kidnapped me from the airport?”

I stood up hurriedly. “You don’t have to worry about them. It will not happen again. You are safe here.”

“Ariel,” he said as I began to walk away.

“What do you want, Mr Grigor?”

“You need help, let me help you.” He said, looking at me with sad eyes.

“The only thing I do not have now is even more money than the billions I own. Do you have that to give me?” I asked, and felt like an asshole even as the words left my mouth. 

But my heart was bleeding. 

What did he think, that he would suddenly show up and everything would be alright after almost twenty-four years?

What did he think this was? A happily ever saccharine soap opera?

I ignored the hurt in his eyes as we stared at each other. 

“My mother spent her life waiting for you.” I said, biting back my tears. “She accepted all those men, and their stupid promises because she was looking for you in them, the love you would not give her even after abandoning her with a baby.”

My father’s lips trembled as his eyes got cloudy with tears.

I turned around and walked away. 

Help me? He really said that. Anything he could give me now was useless. 

When the littlest help from him would have meant the world to me and my mother, he turned his back on us.

I walked into the kitchen and scrubbed my hands at the sink as all the maids looked at me in confusion. 

I needed to keep myself busy since I was not going to the headquarters today.

I could not let myself sit, and only dwell on sad thoughts.

“Please bring out the blocks of frozen Udon.” I smiled kindly at the confused head chef. “I would like to cook for my husband.”

They all bowed and scrambled around to bring out ingredients, and started the meal prepping. 

“Please bring me the crib monitor.” I nodded at the maid nearest to me. 

She bowed and hurried away as I grabbed a white apron and tied it around my waist.

I wondered what other meals to make as I smoothed the soft white fabric down my body.

Kan pushed her hand away from the soft fabric of his white dress shirt. 

Although it was only just beginning to get dark outside, the blinds were down, so his office was set in near darkness.

Eleanor stubbornly brought her hand to his chest again and caressed, “You should not be drinking at the office.” She whispered in that low, soft voice.

“And you should not be touching me when you know I am drunk.” His words came out in a slur. 

It had taken so much alcohol to dull the hurt in his chest. The hurt Blaine’s words had caused.

“I don’t see your body objecting to my touch.” 

Kan followed her gaze down to the bulge in his pants as she looked at it hungrily from beneath the rims of her glasses.

He had little to no resistance now after abstaining from sex for so long, from the time he finally accepted that he was in love with Ariel.

Eleanor knew his body well. If he let her continue, it would be a wrap.

“I don’t want to do this, Eleanor.” he protested weakly, even as her fingers sunk beneath his shirt.