Shouldn’t Have Gone

by Mara Lynne

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” Paul says as he stands before her. “He will be here in a short while.”

  She then takes a sip from the rim of her cup and smiles at the man gracefully. “Can you take Cate back to the room now? I think she’s beginning to annoy the other kids.” Her eyes slide to the little girl who is now starting to pull one girl’s ponytail. “I will be up soon.”

  “Yes, madame.” Paul charges to the little girl and pulls her out of the stuffed animal before she could throw one of her wild tantrums in front of the restaurant customers.

  She flips the cover of the book she was holding to a close and redirects her gaze to the entrance door.

  A few seconds later, the man she has been waiting for arrives. Nothing much has changed in him, contrary to what she has been hearing from people. She was still tall, broad, and handsome. Five years did not even age him, she deems.

  As he approaches her, the man slowly resembles someone she greatly misses. Oh, how their facial structure—his cheeks and jaw—the wrinkle between his eyes, his forehead, and the slight movement of the corner of his mouth as he greets her—looks almost the same. She then realizes how five years could make a difference to a person she has not seen for a long time. Or perhaps, it is not the man’s appearance that made her feel this familiar sense of loss. Perhaps she misses him that badly that she starts to see him wherever she goes.

  “It’s great to see you, Damien,” she greets, gesturing him to the seat across the table.

  Damien obliges.

  “How have you been?” She examines him once again.

  It does not seem like the man shut himself up in his fortress for years as what she’s heard from friends. There’s a tiny spark in his pair of gray eyes that tells her the man had it well although she can’t help but notice the minor change in his demeanor.

  “All is well with me, Victoria,” he answers. “How about you?”

  “I never have imagined I would enjoy this role as much as I do now,” she replies. “You don’t know how thankful I am.”

  He shakes his head with a timid smile.

  “There’s no other person better than you, Victoria. You have been doing a great job.”

  “And I believe after all these years of staying away, you are back for good.”

  He heaves a huge breath. “And that brings me to the reason I wanted to have this talk. Thank you for accepting my invitation.”

  She knows it is happening the moment Damien Etheridge’s lawyer walked into her office one day, bringing with him important documents.

  “You were the one taking care of Hunter’s business while...” he pauses as his thoughts were brought to a halt.

  Victoria waits for Damien’s next words, expecting he would divulge where he was all these years. The talks of Damien Etheridge locking himself up in his father’s mansion in Pine Valley after Hunter’s death sound even truer now that he’s short of words. Of course, people were not forgiving back then. Victoria felt people’s sympathy, but she never got why they had to doubt Damien’s worth.

  “While I was away,” he says shortly, dropping his gaze.

  She never questioned Hunter’s decision. She understands why the man reached that resolve even before it happened.

  “It’s about time I return everything to you,” Damien says, slowly collecting himself.

  “Damien,” she starts. “It has been hard for you. I’m sorry.”

  The corner of his mouth twitches.

  “I appreciate what you have been doing for the past five years. Even though you don’t like telling us the kindness you’ve done behind our backs, we know you were not gone. You turning over Hunter’s fortune back, it warms my heart.”

  “It’s not mine, to begin with,” he responds. “He was crazy enough to even name me his heir. Impulsive as he was, he never really cared of what others would think or the implications of his actions.”

  “He did not have anyone but you, Damien. It is but natural for your brother to do this.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if he ever thought of himself.”

  Victoria’s face lights up.

  “I’m sure you know of that one thing he could not give up, not even for you,” Victoria says.

  He nods as his thoughts wander somewhere else.

  “But in the end, he cannot keep her forever,” she adds. “I don’t know what really happened with you, Damien, but I believe you never tried to reconnect with Angel.”

  His gaze shifts back to Victoria whose attention is now entirely his.

  “With you silently operating Hunter and your father’s business at the same time, does Angel still have a room in your life?”

  “I haven’t done anything to your company, Victoria. It’s all you,” he replies, dodging the question Victoria threw at him.

  “But still, you were there. Not a lot of people knew about it, but you were there. Don’t discredit yourself, Damien. I was just the face, but you were the heart and mind of it.”

  “I don’t know what you are trying to say.”

  “It’s about time you forgive yourself, young man,” she says as she reaches for his hand across the table. “You may look okay outside, but deep inside, I know the demons still plague you. How can you not see the bright future ahead of you? Think of why Hunter did all these. It’s not just because you’re his brother.”

  “Then what could it be, Victoria?”

  “It’s trust, Damien.” Her palm reaches for the left side of his chest. “Why would he give up everything for you from the get go? It’s because he knows you are worth his life, and you will make use and take care of everything he’s left to the fullest.”

  “I took everything from him, Victoria.” Even his life, he thought. His heart that resides in me now.

  It’s his, and he killed Hunter for that.

  “But you also gave so much to him. Don’t forget what you were to him since you were little. It’s time to let go, Damien, and use what is left,” Victoria tells him, gently tapping the part of Damien’s body where her son lives now.

  “This needs some functioning now,” she says with a smile on her face.

  ***

  “Are you trying to be a children’s book illustrator now, Angel?” Ray asks, examining a pile of sketches on Angel’s desk.

  “No. Those are collections from Kelly. Cate’s so into classics these days, I thought I’d make her a book.”

  She trudges back from the shoe rack to the couch where her notes are kept. Her feet are a little sore from running to and fro the office and Cassidy Hall.

  “The Little Gingerbread Man? Don’t you think Catriona’s a little too old for this?”

  “It’s her favourite since she’s three,” Angel answers as she gets hold of the papers. “I have Shakespeare Illustrated too.”

  “Hamlet? King Lear? Can Cate even understand the plot at her age?”

  “She’s starting to gain interest on some of his sonnets, that’s why I thought of introducing her his other works.”

  “What kind of kindergarten does your daughter go to? Harvard?”

  She rolls her eyes at him. “It’s pretty weird, right? They’re teaching them literature already. I find it amazing.”

  “By the time Cate reaches college, she will be more obsessed than you have ever been with Shakespeare.” Suddenly, his vision catches a glimpse of a half-opened box at the other side of the desk. “Is this where you keep all the books? It’s almost filled, sweetie.” Books with antiquated hardcovers are arranged neatly inside the box. “My, oh my! These could well be worth a hundred thousand dollars each. Whoever donated these is your guardian angel.”

  “Yes, she is!”

  “And how do you know she is a woman?”

  Angel shrugs her shoulders and just says. “I just know!”

  “Just because the books you received from her are purely about feminism?”

  Ignoring Ray, she says, “Will you come with me to Cassidy Hall this afternoon? The books are too fragile and precious to del
iver by courier.”

  “I was expecting you have them transferred already.”

  “These came this morning. The others are already in the hall and are ready for public viewing.”

  “You’ve got some big event tonight, sweetie. Once these books are out, your library will be well known!” Ray exclaims. “Who in this world would have these rare manuscripts in one place? Tonight, it will be you!”

  Angel straightens her body and pulls herself up. She goes straight behind the desk, past Ray, and reaches for the drawer.

  “Lady luck has been with me the entire time,” she says. “Here you go.” She hands over Ray a piece of paper. “The guest list. You might find old friends there.”

  His eyes briefly scan the names listed on it and pause as soon as the list ends.

  “These are your book collecting friends and some curators I haven’t met yet. I see no reason for me to get pumped up. Your parents aren’t even coming.”

  “Mom and Dad are on their way here. I know they wish to stay in Colombia. They’re practically Colombians now, but they also wanted to be with Cate. Grandparent woes,” Angel says.

  “Well, except for this one person.” His point finger stops at the last name on the list written in bold letters. “Tonight, we’ll know for sure if she’s a woman or not. After all, all the books for viewing tonight were hers. Finally, you will meet your biggest donor—Anonymous.”

  Chapter 42 – Eighteenth Floor

  “Where are you?” Ray screams his lungs out over the phone.

  “I’m almost there,” she answers, breathing heavily. She has the train of her gold sequined gown pulled up so she does not trip on it as she races to the elevator. “How much time left?”

  “I don’t know how long I can hold them up,” he says. “We’re almost done, and your speech is coming!”

  “Do something please!” Her wet stilettos prevent her from speeding up her pace. The marble floor of the hotel lobby seems too slippery for a rain-drenched person, and so Angel has to be cautious. “I got stuck in traffic under a storm. No one even told me there will be a torrential rain tonight, and so I took a taxi.” The elevator doors slide open, and Angel hurriedly enters, looking at her purse for her mirror, holding her phone in between her shoulder and ears.

  “It’s in the forecast this morning, honey! How could you miss that?”

  “Well, I have been too busy to even watch the news! Plus, Hugo’s dress came late because he had to do some modifications. By the time the taxi came to pick me up, I realized I had left Derby Murphy’s Existential Universe in my office, and so I have to stop there to get it.”

  “Which floor?” a voice cuts in right before the elevator door closes.

  “Eighteenth floor, please,” she replies, still looking inside her purse. “Thank you.”

  The bell chimes and the door closes.

  “Come on, Angel, it’s just a book. The event won’t stop with one book missing.”

  At last, she finds the mirror!

  “Ray, it’s Derby Murphy! It’s the only existing edition, and the people deserve to see it!” The book rests in her arms. “I am a mess,” she adds after checking her face in her tiny mirror. A few wet hair is stuck on her forehead, and her makeup is smudged. In horror, Angel quickly searches for a tissue in her bag and drops the book and the phone on the ground.

  “Oh, shit!” Angel curses under her breath.

  Quickly, she bends down to pick them up, saving her face from humiliation. Surely, people in the ride are gaping at her and probably thinking what kind of a crazy woman she is, but she has no time and energy to pay attention to them.

  However, before her fingers could even touch the book’s cover, a set of long dainty fingers have already found its place atop the book, and slowly picking it up for her.

  “Here you go...”

  Turning to her other side, she sees an old man in blue sweaters proudly showing his set of glistening teeth while handing over her mobile phone, totally capturing her attention. “Be careful, miss,” he says. With him is an old woman who can only be his wife whose smile is as wide as his.

  “Thank you,” she tells them with burning cheeks.

  “Your book…” a voice from behind her interrupts.

  The old couple smiled at her once more before she turns on her heels to face the person who has picked up the book.

  But, suddenly, the ground begins to shake, and the lights go off. Angel loses her footing and falls, leaning into what’s feels like a sturdy body in front of her. Her face smashes directly to the poor victim’s chest, as her nose gets stuffed with a recognizably male scent. Strong hands grip her arms, keeping her steady and secure.

  Her cheeks flush the moment she realizes how embarrassing she must look like. Thankfully, it is dark, and no one will see the state she is in now.

  “I’m so sorry,” she says in a whisper as soon as she has straightened her back.

  The old woman starts to panic, and it only worsened when the lights begin to flicker and eventually die off.

  Angel jerks as the old woman’s shriek goes straight to her ears. Thankfully, the firm grip on her arms keeps her secure, keeping her from falling with the continuous shaking of the elevator each time the lights flicker. It feels so strong and assuring that Angel can’t bring herself to protest. Feeling the thoughtfulness in the gesture, she looks up to see the owner of the hands. But she could only see the man’s silhouette at the moment, illuminated by the dim emergency lights. She sees nothing but a little of his undershirt, tie, and the sharp contour of his face.

  “This is elevator three,” the man holding her finally speaks up. He is currently bending over to the emergency phone, waiting for a response. “There are four of us here locked out.”

  “Copy that, sir.” A voice from the emergency speaker says. “We are sorry for the inconvenience. We are slightly experiencing technical difficulties in our system due to the storm. Repairing of the engine is on the way. Rebooting will take three to five minutes. Is any one of you experiencing any type of distress? Please inform me now.”

  “We’re okay. Just get the elevator running,” the old woman says in an annoyed tone.

  “They are working on it now, sweetheart.” Her husband assures her.

  Angel feels being heaved towards the emergency phone as the man holding her moves closer to it once again.

  “Please keep your line open,” he says over the speaker without taking away his grip on her.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The storm must be really bad,” the old man says.

  “I am scared, sweetheart,” she tells him, looking for a way to get her husband to embrace her.

  The elevator shakes again. This time, it’s stronger, making the hair on her nape rise. Her throat frees a small shriek, and without her knowing, her fingers grasp for the man’s shirt, pressing her head against his hard chest for safety. And then suddenly, she feels herself being whisked to the corner, hitting the steel wall with her back as a huge unidentified object squished her against the wall. The shaking lasts five long seconds, and all Angel feels is her legs quivering, her chest pounding, and the thought that this could be her last day.

  It was not until the shaking stops did she feel something peculiar at her back.

  Silence.

  Tranquility resurfaces, and the old woman stops sobbing.

  Angel’s legs cease trembling, and the pace of her heart dies down.

  But then, she slowly comes to the realization that she is being held close by an unknown man. His hand was protecting her head from hitting the wall as his other arm gripped protectively around her waist, fully covering her with his large build

  “We apologize for what happened. Is anyone of you hurt?”

  “Is everybody okay?” The voice on top of her says out loud, and sounds… a little too familiar.

  “No one’s hurt,” he tells the crew at the line after no one inside responds to his question.

  “Rebooting is successful. The elevato
r is starting in a few seconds. Again, we greatly apologize for this inconvenience.” The emergency button stops blinking red.

  His embrace was so tight, it almost feels like he does not want to let go. Angel takes note of every single sensation inside her. She cannot be mistaken this time.

  Could it be him?

  But it has been five years, and never in those times did he appear to her.

  Five long years, and here he is with her, holding her so tight?

  Could she be wrong?

  She wants to hear him talk again to make sure. She will never forget the sound of his voice; all she needs is a little affirmation.

  The lights turns on, and the old couple kiss each other out of joy.

  The man’s embrace gradually loosens.

  Angel, in a petrified state, senses her face burning. She feels her tongue retreating as her mind turns blank.

  What is there to say?

  What should she do?

  Of all place and time, why here? Why now?

  “You’re almost there,” his voice echoes through her ears. “They are all waiting for you.” His mouth was so close to her face, that each time words come out, her skin tingles at the contact of his breath.

  The elevator chimes, and the door slides open on the eighteenth floor.

  Chapter 43 – Once Lost

  The sweet taste of apple cider runs down her throat and quenches her thirst instantly as she feels tiny bubbles popping out. She did not have time to breathe or have a sip of water after she’s left the elevator because as soon as Ray saw her walking out of it lifelessly and all pale, he quickly pulled her down the corridor and into the hall, and handing her over the speech he made for her. She did not even have time to look at herself in the mirror to see the horror she must have looked like then.