31. Ian
31
IAN
Something's off with Sarah. I can't place my finger on what, so I chalk it up to paranoia as I watch her walk away.
My eyes meet with Sheila's for a few minutes, and I'm tempted to question her if she knows what's going on. But my last attempt at that didn't work.
And she and I have bonded so well since last night, I don't want to ruin that.
I woke up to her telling me to go sleep inside the room in the early hours of the morning. I thanked her and went inside. I slept for about two hours before I decided I'd had enough for the day, and then I went back into the living room where I met her in the kitchen.
I asked her what her plan for breakfast was, and she confessed to not having any, so I offered to cook. Not only was she impressed by my skill, but she was also happy to learn more about me.
She asked about my job and my hobbies, and as fate would have it, my favorite song started to play on the radio, and she happened to love the song just as much.
“See you later, Sheila,” I say as I walk out of the room. She waves at me and focuses on her plate, which is almost empty of food.
I walk out of the house carefully, checking the street for any stray cat loitering before I come out fully.
When I'm on the street, I confirm there's no one lurking around one more time before I start to walk back to the house.
It's a long walk, but it's a much-needed one. I don't allow myself to focus on anything at all as I walk the streets, sweat trickling down my back and all over my face by the time I get to the estate gate.
The gate opens at my approach. I nod at security in acknowledgement as I walk past them.
Christopher had called me earlier, saying he has things to discuss with me if I can spare the time.
It was a perfect escape for me. Breakfast was getting awkward because of Sarah's attempt to make me feel like crap, which by the way, was successful.
Which is why I don't understand the change in her.
One minute, she's spitefully staring me down for how I treated her in the past, and the next she's kissing me and smiling at me, telling me goodbye as if I were going far away.
She can be very confusing.
I go straight into my room to shower the moment I enter the house. None of the staff are in sight, and I'm grateful for that.
I'm almost done getting dressed when there's a knock on my door.
“Mr. Ian, Mr. Craig is here to see you.” Salem's voice comes from the other side of the door.
“Tell him I'll be out in five minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” she says before her light footsteps recede from my door.
I pull my shirt on and properly button it. Going to look at myself in the mirror, I see I still look the same. Yet so much has changed.
I should get new clothes soon.
Christopher is seated on one of the fancy chairs in the living room when I walk in. Although seated, he looks so restless. His eyes skate through every item in the room with emotions evident in his demeanor.
“Christopher,” I call his name to announce my presence.
He turns at my voice and manages to smile. Standing up, he offers me his hand to shake, and I take it.
“I hope I'm not disturbing you. I just found out some things I'd like to bring to your attention.”
“Nonsense. You're always welcome here,” I say and motion for us to sit.
He goes to sit, and I follow him. Immediately, he starts to open his bag and brings out some documents.
“So, I know you've signed the documents, and everything is now yours, but I kind of feel like you need help with figuring things out. I am still in charge of most of the business operations, and I don't want that to remain so for long.”
“Well, why not?” I ask. I have no problem with that. Until he said so, I didn't know. But I do trust him, and I'd rather he be in charge than anyone else.
“It's your inheritance now,” he says as if that explains it.
“Yes, Chris, it is. But I don't have a single idea on how to make this work.”
“Which is why I'm here…”
“To help me figure things out, I know. But I still want you around, you know, to have someone I can trust in my corner?”
He sighs and goes silent for a few minutes. I don't say anything, giving him the time he needs to process what I'm saying. When he doesn't say anything for a while, I decide to change tactics.
“How about we talk about this later and just let Salem serve us breakfast?”
I've already eaten, but I don't mind eating again if it keeps him here just a while longer until I can convince him.
He nods reluctantly, and I go to find Salem, hoping to God that she made something this morning. Luckily, she did, and she's soon setting the table for us.
The conversation mostly revolves around business as we eat. Christopher thinks I should make time to visit the company. I agree with him, but I’m still unsure of when it will be best. I don't want to show up looking like a loser.
I need to get those clothes fast.
By the time the meal is over, we're talking about the average sales for the real estate company.
Apparently, it's a slow month. Sales aren't moving like they normally would.
“Can I see the books?” I ask him.
“Sure, I brought them along.”
I smile in gratitude as he hands me the file, and I sit beside him to go through it.
I'm breathless only a few seconds into checking the records.
We've had twenty-five sales this month already, and he's saying it's a slow month?
Damn. Just how much surprise am I in for?
I look over each sale, taking note of the sales and the payment. While I'm not good with corporate matters, I have a good memory, and I'm good with calculation, too.
The last sale catches my attention the moment I lay my eyes on it.
It says, Miss S. Marilyn Brown.
It's not her full name because her first name is used as an initial, and I don't know why. I do know her middle name though. Marilyn. She's told me before, and I haven't forgotten. Glancing at Christopher, I speak.
“This last sale, when was it?”
“I believe it was finalized this morning. Why?”
Shit.
What does this mean?
“Can you help me get the information of the seller?” I ask.
He looks at me skeptically, but he doesn't say anything. He just stands up and pulls his phone out of his pocket to make a call.
It's a short call. When he's done, he looks at me meaningfully.
“I think you know who it is.”
Yeah, I do.
I find out that she bought a house this morning in Ohio. She wouldn't talk to me before breakfast. During breakfast, she was speaking accusingly. And then she kissed me goodbye.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
She's leaving, isn't she?
I have to stop her.
“I have to go,” I inform Christopher as I rush out of the house. I don't bother waiting for his response.
I'm in front of Sheila's house within ten minutes, and I immediately rush inside the house. The house is quiet when I enter, the door surprisingly open. My heart beats so fast in my chest.
Just last night, I was contemplating giving us another shot, and this morning I was sure it was the right thing to do. And now, I may never have the chance to tell her this.
She wouldn't leave town without telling me, right?
“Sarah! Sheila! Sarah!” I scream through the house. Somewhere from the house, I start to hear the sound of footsteps, and I walk toward them, sweat all over me as I discover Sheila walking toward me.
“Where is she?” I ask her.
She shakes her head, her eyes shining bright with pity. “I'm sorry, Ian.”
I don't believe this. How could she be gone so soon? I've only been absent for all of two hours.
“When did she leave?”
“I can't tell you that.”
Damn it. Not now.
“Sheila please, I need you to trust me,” I beg her, hoping for once she'll cut me some slack.
“It's not my place to trust you with information that's not mine to share,” she whispers bitterly. Her eyes are red.
She's been crying, too.
“You didn't want her to go,” I state.
She shrugs. “It's not my place to decide for her.”
Bullshit. Sheila could have told me last night when I still had the chance to change her mind.
What was that nonsense about trusting her and she'll trust me too eventually about then?
She lied to me. They both lied.
“I'm guessing you're not going to tell me where she's gone,” I say, hoping she'll come clean. She doesn't.
“She doesn't want you following her.”
Fine.
They can both move to the mountain and never come back for all I care.
Stalking out of the house, I enter my truck and drive away with my heart shattering in my chest.
There's only one reason she'd leave without telling me. She doesn't give two fucks about me.
Is this how she felt when I left all those years ago?
The pain in my chest doubles, and I try to look at the silver lining in the whole situation. At least I don't have to continue worrying about her.
She'll be safe where she is, and if she doesn't want me coming after her, then I won't.
She wants a fresh start? I'll give her one.
Maybe it's time for me to consider getting a fresh start on my own.