Broken glass

JACKSON

I speak coldly to Aurora as I hold her hands and slowly take them off my cheek. My heart aches at the sight of the tears running down her cheek.

She pulls out a soft piece of tissue that sits atop the dressing table and slowly wipes it off.

She gets the message.

“Sam will drive you home,” I add with a cracking voice, looking away.

I dread the thought of being robbed of the chance to fight this fire with a bigger inferno, but according to Jerry, it’s for my own safety.

“Jerry! Where to now?”

“Urh! Your coastal estate, the one at Sunrise Bay.”

“Sunrise Bay? That place is… remote, and filled with local people. The area is so dry, and most parts are undeveloped. I’d be surprised if you had any internet over there.” Her tone reeks of disgust and distaste. Of course, it doesn’t fit her lifestyle.

“Can I at least have a few things packed up?” I question Jerry, who’s standing at the door, tapping his foot consistently with folded fists.

“I’m afraid not. Every second matters. I’ll leave you two to prep. Meet at the elevator in five!”

Jerry concludes and walks out of the room, leaving a huge space of silence between Aurora and me.

“I’m being accused.”

The words taste like vinegar as I spit them out to her; my chest aches from all the heaviness in it. I need to give her something, at least. She deserves to know.

“You haven’t been to Sunrise Bay in a while. I figured you were running when Jerry spoke of it,” she says calmly, rifling through her purse as she applies some more makeup.

Unbothered, like there isn’t a huge fire on the mountain.

“Exactly! No one will look for me over there, and I’ll be safe. I’ll come back for you when all this blows over, and we’ll have our fairytale wedding.”

I whisper as I finally muster up the courage, hold her by the waist, and pour a million kisses on her neck.

“So when will that be?” she asks.

“I… I don’t know,” I reply, reaching for my yesterday’s shirt that laid beside the bed.

“Exactly! I thought so, Jack. By all means, run away and leave me to clean up the mess. Your mess!” she adds.

“My mess? How is it MY me..”

“Oh, please! Spare me.”

Something in her tone leaves me shattered as she walks away. The noise from her Gucci heels departs like a rhythmic knock.

I swing my fist in the air, trying to remember where I left my phone, but freeze as her words pierce through me. My chest tightens even more; what I feel is more like physical pain, as if I’ve stepped on broken glass.

The sound of her gold chain purse creates a weird sensation and leaves me utterly devastated. As if the whole scandal isn’t enough, my own girlfriend is acting amiss.

The elevator ride down the penthouse is dead silent, except for Aurora’s heavy sighs in between. She looks gorgeous, poured into that silk white dress with her gold jewelry, even though her hair is still moist.

Her coat rests perfectly on her shoulders as she clutches her gold purse with both hands. She’s wearing her black Gucci shades.

But here I am, looking worse. I have no focus, and that robs me of looking pleasant at least. My jaw is tight, my hair so messy, and my eyes are ringed from last night’s party and drinking, as I do all I can to seal the gnawing emptiness within me.

Aurora isn’t wrong. The mansion was built a few years back, when I found solitude a bit romantic. I would stay there for two weeks and return home. Never more than that.

It’s a quiet place, too quiet in fact, and raw with so much space that every voice in the house echoes. I loved it, in a way. I really do; it’s my safe space, where I can be myself and commune with nature.

But now, who knows how long before the wind blows this situation into the past? I think.

Still, it’s exactly what’s best for this crisis.

The elevator chimes, and the doors part to reveal Jerry waiting with only a laptop bag. I guess it has all our useful gadgets in it.

“No luggage train, and definitely no convoy!” he announces.

Angry Aurora walks past us. The sound of her click-clacking heels pours more fire on the flame.

“Not even a hug?” I whisper.

Sam, my personal driver, is already waiting by her car in the underground garage. He opens the door of her 2027 pink custom-made Mercedes. I got it for her 25th birthday.

Just before she enters, she takes off her shades and turns to me. A fake grin runs across her face. I can see her emerald green eyes light up one more time before she gets into her car.

I think she must hate me so much, but I need to survive. So my company will.

“We have about three hours to get there. For now, we have twenty minutes to get to the jet,” Jerry sputters as I slide into the back of my waiting SUV. I adjust the seatbelt to fit and click it in.

He hands the keys to Paul, his driver, and commands him to take the back entrance.

“The press has already swarmed the front,” he continues as he slides in beside me and mumbles while I sit silent, watching the city lights fade behind the tinted glass.

The jet smells faintly of pure leather. It’s supposed to. A jet that expensive. Jerry types furiously on his laptop, trying to get ahead of the whole uncomfortable situation.

He coordinates some lawyers, anything and more for damage control, as he mutters words I can’t make out.

I stare at my glass of untouched champagne as the ice melts into a pale amber puddle.

“Jack!”

Jerry’s thick voice snaps me out of my head.

“You’re cold, and you’ve been silent.

The Jackson I know would be making all sorts of calls to get more information about the case. He’d be barking orders, crafting the spin before the media sinks their teeth into the whole situation and milks the hell out of it, and maybe firing some people.

That’s what the ruthless Jackson Meliś, CEO of Meliś Enterprise, would do.”

He’s right. I’m not known for compassion or empathy. This situation creates a new reality for me.

A fucked-up one.