8. Bl（INK）
JAE
8
The city lights blurred outside my penthouse windows. With each step I took, pacing back and forth, Verena’s resignation consumed my thoughts. Normally, she’d be here, her presence a calm in the corporate storm, effortlessly steering my world away from turmoil. But tonight, she was the epicenter of the storm.
I picked up my phone, the device feeling foreign in my hand without Verena on the other end. The first call was to John, my head of legal. His name flashed on the screen like an accusation. “John, this is Jae,” I snapped, my voice a sharp command, each word a hammer strike. “I need legal in my office at eight a.m. sharp tomorrow. No excuses. Be prepared for crisis resolution. Bring all employee contracts. Prepare for a long day.” The line went dead, my decree delivered.
Next was Susan from Human Resources. “Susan, it’s Jae. I need you and your team on standby. Be in a meeting with legal at eight a.m. sharp. It’s going to be a long day.” The routine calls, once effortlessly managed through Verena’s meticulous organization, now felt like trying to remember how to ride a bike. You knew how, but it had been a few years since I’d even had time for a joy ride, let alone the need to do it.
After I hung up, the silence of the room closed in, punctuated only by my own harsh breathing. Normally, Verena would have handled all this. But she was the conflict that needed resolution. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
I was prepared to comb through her employment contract for a loophole. Anything to keep her tethered to me, to the company.
I would bind her to us legally if I had to.
Then convince her to stay.
The thought sparked a vindictive satisfaction within me. She thought she could just walk away? Not a chance.
I didn’t lose.
My musings were interrupted by the sound of the door opening gently. Auntie stepped into the room, her petite frame and silver-streaked hair a stark contrast to the cold, sleek lines of my penthouse. Her presence was a blend of tenderness and resilience, a testament to the strength she had shown through the years. She approached softly, cautiously, her steps light as if she were walking on the thin ice of my temper.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice carrying the warmth and concern that had been a balm in the years since my parents’ passing. Her inquiry pulled me from my thoughts, grounding me back in the present.
“Verena put in her resignation,” I admitted, the words feeling like ash in my mouth.
“Oh, really?” Her casual response, laden with an undercurrent of surprise, grated on me. “Good for her.”
“No,” I snapped. “Not good for her. I need her. She’s the best at her job. She knows what she’s doing.”
A spark of recognition flickered in Auntie’s eyes. “She can finally write that book!”
“No. No, no, no.” My denial came too quickly, too forcefully. “I can’t do my job without her,” I protested, trying to keep my voice even.
“Huh, I see,” Auntie said, her voice rich with unspoken understanding.
“You’re having lunch with Verena’s mother tomorrow. Be sure to mention this is a terrible mistake.” I stopped, mid-turn, the frustration and fear of losing Verena bubbling to the surface. “I need you to talk to Verena’s mother about convincing her to stay. Remind her of the benefits, the steady income… It’s important.”
Auntie’s expression softened, a hint of nostalgia lighting up her features. “Oh, I miss Jennifer. Haven’t seen her in ages. I’m really looking forward to it,” she said with a smirk. Then, her brow furrowed slightly in thought. “Should have gotten her a gift. It’s been too long since we last saw each other.”
She looked at me. “But hey, maybe I can just give her a photo of you pouting. That’s priceless.”
I shook my head, trying to stay focused on the task at hand, despite the conversation’s drift. “I think Verena already got a gift you can give her. She always thinks ahead.” How long had she been planning to quit? Why didn’t she give me a heads-up?
Auntie laughed, a sound both warm and wistful. “That girl, always thinking of everything. Did you know she put my favorite skincare products in the guest bathroom?” Her voice carried a mix of admiration and slight exasperation. “She even made sure my favorite restaurant delivered lunch to the car when I arrived. Can’t stand airplane food with my restricted diet. I was famished after the long flight.”
A twinge of something deep and unsettling stirred within me.
Verena’s thoughtfulness wasn’t just limited to me. It extended to those I cared about.
She was more than just an assistant.
She was the glue holding pieces of my life together I didn’t even realize were coming apart.
And I was about to lose her.
Not a chance.
Shaking off the feeling, I pressed on, “I need you to tell her mom that leaving the company is a mistake. Jennifer gets through to her better than anyone else. She’ll talk some sense into her.”
Auntie’s expression changed, warmth fading. “Jae, that’s not the right approach. If Verena decided to quit, it means she’s unhappy. We should be helping her find her bliss.”
“Unhappy? With me?” I retorted. “We’re best friends. Working together is amazing. We travel, we do fun things. It’s been great for her.”
Auntie raised an eyebrow, her look cutting right through my defenses. “Maybe it’s great for you,” she said, sarcasm lacing her voice, “but have you ever considered if it’s truly what Verena wants?”
The question hung in the air like an unwelcome guest. My justifications sounded weaker with each word I uttered. Auntie’s insinuation—that my view of our working relationship was clouded by my own selfish desires—was a bitter pill I refused to swallow.
“No,” I declared, my tone sharp but lacking real conviction. “Verena loves her job.”
Yet, even as the words left my mouth, a sliver of doubt crept in. Verena’s resignation wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision; it was a clear message that she needed more, something different. Auntie’s gentle probing had peeled back a layer of truth I wasn’t prepared to confront—that in my arrogance, I had taken Verena’s loyalty and happiness for granted.
I clenched my jaw, unwilling to admit fault. “She’s fine,” I added, as if saying it firmly enough could make it true.
Auntie’s response was just as firm. “This might be good for her. You didn’t think she would be your assistant forever, did you? What if she wants more from life? A husband? Kids?”
The suggestion hit a nerve, igniting a fire within me. “Absolutely not! She can have more while still working for me. Actually, no, she can’t.” My own words echoed with the confusion and desperation roiling inside me.
Auntie’s knowing look was infuriatingly perceptive. In her eyes, I didn’t see the unflappable CEO of an empire, but a man on the brink of losing the one person who had become his anchor in a sea of relentless demands and expectations.
“By the way, how long are you staying?” I asked. “I need to check my calendar to see if we can spend time together, but I’m pretty busy right now. You mentioned six months; you can stay at one of my other properties if it’s a long-term visit.”
Auntie’s demeanor shifted, the usual spark in her eyes dimming as she took a deep breath. The room seemed to grow quieter, the air thick with unspoken tension.
“Listen, darling,” she began, her tone uncharacteristically serious. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
I raised an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued but tinged with impatience. “I don’t have much time to talk. I need to figure out Verena’s employment contract and?—”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, a flash of the old sass returning. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare take up too much of your precious time, Mr. Important CEO.” She paused, her gaze softening. “But this is something you need to hear.”
I folded my arms. “Alright, I’m listening.”
She took another breath, her voice steady but laced with an underlying tremor. “The cancer came back.”
The words hit me like a sledgehammer, knocking the breath out of me. For a moment, I just stared at her, my mind grappling with the gravity of what she’d said. Auntie, the unshakable pillar of my life, was facing something I couldn’t control, couldn’t fix.
“I know I promised I wouldn’t leave you alone,” she continued. “But it looks like I might not be able to keep that promise.”
Her words settled between us, heavy and ominous. My arrogant facade began to crack, a cold fear creeping into the corners of my mind. For the first time in a long while, I felt truly powerless.
I cleared my throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. “How long?” I asked, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.
She shrugged, a small, sad smile playing on her lips. “Long enough to see you get your act together, I hope.”
The room was silent, the reality of the situation sinking in. For once, my position, my power, meant nothing. It was just Auntie and me, facing an uncertain future.
“That’s why I came here,” Auntie explained, a fragile smile touching her lips. “I’m going to need some help towards the end.” The vulnerability in her admission was something new, a side of her I’d never seen.
“What do you mean?” The question escaped me before I could temper it with the gravity the moment deserved, my mind reeling from the implications.
“You know how it goes. Three years ago, we thought we got it all, but it’s like the neighborhood stray. Give it a little food, and it always comes back. There’s a doctor here, but most of my options revolve around comfort care this time,” she said, her pragmatism laced with a poignant acceptance of her reality. “So, I really need you to promise me that you’re going to do everything you can to not be lonely anymore. I’m here because I don’t want you to be so isolated.”
Auntie’s eyes locked onto mine. “I know you think you can handle everything on your own,” she continued. “But this…this is different. You need to let people in, Jae. You can’t do it all by yourself.”
I opened my mouth to argue, to insist that I was perfectly fine on my own, but the look in her eyes stopped me. For once, my usual bravado felt like a flimsy shield against the raw truth she was laying bare.
“I don’t want you to be like me,” she added softly. “Alone when it matters most.”
Her words, each one delivered with a deliberate emphasis, struck a chord deep within me. The enormity of her situation, her bravery in facing it, and her concern for me amidst her own battle—it was overwhelming.
Auntie’s revelation about her condition was a seismic shift in the landscape of my reality, forcing me to confront not just the impending loss of the last of my family but the seclusion of my existence she sought to shield me from.
“I bought a one-way ticket,” she said, attempting a lighthearted tone that fell flat. “I’m here to see you get your life in order before I kick the bucket.”
I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling up. “Auntie, what are you talking about?”
She sighed, a fragile smile touching her lips. “Well, for starters, your home is boring,” she said, trying to keep things light. “You need to learn how to cook, and I have to find you a wife.”
I stared at her. “Really? You just said the cancer came back, and you want to talk about my dating life?”
She nodded, her smile growing more genuine. “Yes, because I want to leave this world knowing you’re okay. I can’t have my favorite nephew all alone, clueless in the kitchen, and buried in work.”
A bitter laugh escaped me. “So, your master plan is to turn me into a cooking, wife-hunting CEO?”
She chuckled, the sound both comforting and heartbreaking. “Exactly. Maybe I’ll even get to see you whip up something edible before I go. And who knows, maybe I’ll set you up on a few dates.”
“Auntie…” I began. “This isn’t a joke.”
She reached out, placing a hand on mine. “I know, Jae. But humor is how I cope. And right now, I need to focus on the future—your future. I want to leave this world knowing you’re not just surviving, but living.”
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. “I don’t know if I can do this without you.”
Her grip tightened, her eyes sparkling with the determination that had always defined her. “You’re stronger than you think, Jae. And you won’t be without me. I’ll be right here,” she said, tapping her heart. “But promise me you’ll try.”
I nodded, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. “I promise,” I managed, the words barely a whisper, but a vow nonetheless.
“And who knows,” she added with a mischievous grin, “maybe you’ll actually find someone who can tolerate your bossy, arrogant self.”
Despite everything, I found myself smiling. “If you say so, Auntie. If you say so.”