Chapter 93

Adrian

The bareness of the walls inside of my home have become a welcoming sight. There used to be decorations and expensive paintings that hung on the wall, a symbol of my wealth and accomplishments, but now there is nothing except for family photos from years ago that I barley paid attention to until now.

I have had to sell everything for my company. All that is left is a single couch and a few side tables, the framed photographs on the walls. Inside the kitchen, there are just a few plates and cups with a couple of necessary utensils.

I would go out to eat since my fridge is close to empty, but that needs money, and money is the one thing that I simply do not have.

What a very exciting life I live.

I sit on the couch and stare at the television. Some random black and white movie plays on the screen. It is a romance from a couple decades ago and the two romantic leads are in a constant state of push and pull.

One moment, they are okay and happy with one another, and then the next, they are bickering and fighting because of a miscommunication or misgiving that the other has committed against their love. Ironic, right?

I sigh and free my phone from my sweatpants pocket, pulling it out. The screen lights up and I stare at the photo of Stella, my mother, and I at the tide pools at the resort.

I would give everything and more to go back to that time. Stella and I found a good rhythm with one another before things blew up all over again. Life truly is cruel and ironic when it needs to be, I just wish that it would give me some grace after it has kicked me to to the curb.

“Oh, Anderson,” the female lead in the movie says with a dramatic sigh. She smacks the back of her hadn’t against her forehead, leaning into the male lead, “I do not know what I would do without you!”

“A life without you, dear, is a lonely one that I do not wish to live!” the male lead responds. He brings the woman close to him and kisses her as the music swells.

The void inside of my chest has never felt more hollow. I know that I am lonely. I don’t even want to feel the touch of someone, just the desire to talk to someone without the conversation being about work or how shitty my life has become.

I tear my gaze off of the television screen and turn it back to my phone, staring at the wallpaper of Stella and my mother. I frown and unlock the phone, moving towards the app that holds all of my contacts.

I stare the names. Many of them are people that I work with and only a few are people that I have in my personal life. I swipe through the list, my eyes scanning each and every one of the names.

Who would even want to talk with me? I doubt that Michael will have much to say and I know that if I call Clara, I will end up feeling like public enemy number one even though I have done nothing wrong towards her and she has been the one who has lied on multiple occasions.

I can’t bother my mother, either. It is too late in the night to call, seeing how the sun has set hours ago, and she needs as much rest as she can get ever since she came out of her coma.

My eyes stop at Stella’s name as soon as it pops up. I swallow the lump in my throat and blink away the tears that begin to form in my eyes.

Even just looking at her name gets me all worked up. I’m worried about her. There is a part of me that needs to check in on her but I know that I am the last person that she would want to see in this moment.

I sigh and toss my phone to the side. I cover my face with my hands and shake my head, trying to will away the feeling of loneliness. Instead, an anger mixed in with sadness bubbles inside of me and it makes me feel restless.

No, I can’t think this way! I can’t go down a path of destruction just because my life is in shambles. That is not a way to live.

I stand and walk down the hallway, finding myself inside my office. Moving towards my computer, I sit down in the leather chair and open up my laptop. The screen turns on and I type in my login information, watching as it slowly allows me inside the mainframe.

My fingers move without me even realizing it. I find myself at Tracer’s website. I have not been on it since my project has been completed and the layout is completely new. She has upgraded, that’s for sure. I hope she is getting the recognition that she deserves.

I find my way to the customer login portal and click on it. My username and password are quickly entered in and I stare at the spinning rainbow wheel while it loads just for me to be rejected. I lean in and read the big and bold words on the screen.

This user has been deemed inactive. Please fill out the registration form if you wish to hire my services again.

I slam my laptop closed and I shut my eyes soon after.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out.

I repeat this breathing exercise for as long as I need to, trying to calm down my racing heart. It is of no use, though, and I am left with an unbridled anger and irritation that festers on the inside of my chest.

I push away from the desk and exit the office. My destination is across the house and my walking speed is lightning quick and erratic. As soon as I reach the front door, I swipe my keys from the side table and swing open my door.

My eyes remain focused on the ground as I lock the door to my house, shaking my head and mumbling obscenities to myself.

A night drive is exactly what I need to clear my head. I had to sell my other sports car but one remains, the one that Stella commented on that she liked the most. As I walk down the cement path, I hear my name being called from the distance. I pay it no attention and continue walking towards my car.

When I look up, I see Clara leaning against my car door. Her arms are crossed over her chest and she wears a scowl on her face, glaring at me. Just the sight of her makes my blood run cold, my mind screaming at me to run away while my heart wants to give her the chance to hear her out.

I slow in my path and my keys dangle fro my fingers. My feet drag against the ground and they feel as if they are about to sink beneath the surface the closer and closer I get to the woman I used to love.

“Adrian,” she spits my name out like venom, “we need to talk.”