NINETY-SIX
It was getting late, Alexander had spent the day tending to one work or another. He had managed to push all that plagued him aside; if he kept busy he wouldn't need to think. He wouldn't have to remember her eyes, her tears, how vulnerable she had looked while falling asleep knowing he'd be gone when she woke up.
He didn't want to remember how defeated she had looked, how much she had cried, how scared and shaken she had been. Yet he could never forget, it was never far out of his mind.
Rubbing his temple wearily, he made his way to the car park where Carl was already waiting for him. He noticed that even Carl had changed his attitude towards him; he was a lot more formal now, he wasn't warm, wasn't like he had worked for him for years. He understood why, after all, Yalda was a person easy to like and care about, of course he was upset that she was gone.
The sleek black Mercedes came into view as he made his way further into the car park, however, a blonde lady suddenly stepped out of somewhere and blocked his path. His eyes narrowed on her as he stared at her, tried to remember where he had seen her from because she looked so very familiar.
"Where is Yalda?" She asked him.
Of course, she was Yalda's friend, Riley.
"I beg your pardon?" He fiegned ignorance.
She shook her head.
"Don't pretend like you don't know." She bit out. "Where is she?"
"Riley, is it? Ms. Harris no longer works here." He told her.
She stepped closer to him slowly, her size and looks were anything but intimidating but yet she managed to unsettle him.
"She sends me a text telling me she's leaving and asking me not to try to reach her." She said quietly, she was very upset. "I went to her house and she was really gone. And I just know it has something to do with you. What did you do to her?"
He rolled his eyes exasperatedly.
"I don't know where Ms. Harris is." He told her honestly. "Perhaps you should listen to her and stop trying to reach out."
She chuckled humorlessly while shaking her head.
"Ms. Harris? Now you pretend not to have been close to her?" She asked him. "She loved you; she loved you with everything she was. She was always in pain, always hurt but trying to put on a smile because she loved you."
Unable to look away, he continued to watch her, continued to watch the tears pool in her eyes. He wasn't going to look away, he wasn't going to be a coward and avoid looking into her eyes to hide from seeing the pain he had caused.
"Yalda's beautiful and smart, she kind, she perfect; she a woman who deserves to be loved and cared for. She didn't deserve what you put her through." She told him. "She doesn't deserve what the world has put her through."
She was right, he knew that well enough, but he gave nothing away. His eyes remained blank and emotionless, his expression remained passive, everything about him remained unmoved.
"You came here looking for your friend; she's not here." He told her. "And I don't know where she is, please step aside and let me pass."
He had had enough, he couldn't deal with any more of the guilt gnawing mercilessly at his conscience. But he felt lighter knowing he had done it for her; he had given her a chance to have a better life away from his toxicity, he had given her a chance to bee free for once, to live her life how she wanted, to die what she wanted.
"I swear, if I ever find out that you hurt her; that she's not safe....."
He shook his head.
"She's safe. Wherever she is, she is safe." He told her. It was only then that he averted his gaze from hers. "I'd never hurt her, not like that."
He hadn't tried to find her because there was truly no excuse for him to. He had pushed her away for her own good, finding her would be for nothing.
She stared at him for a moment longer before shaking her head.
"I don't know if you have one, but I hope your conscience haunts you till your dying breath." She said, and with that, she turned around and walked away angrily.
He stood there a moment longer, he stood there trying to pull his thoughts together; trying to convince himself that he truly had done this for her. He knew Yalda well enough to know that she didn't mind living the way she was for the rest of her life, she didn't mind living with the hurt he caused her everyday for the rest of her life; she was addicted to the toxicity after all.
He had saved her from all that, and now, he could only wish she was at least doing well wherever she was.
He made his way to his car while pinching the bridge of his nose wearily, he could tell it would bleed anytime soon, he could tell from the painful throb in his head and the ache behind his eyes.
"Good evening sir." Carl greeted as he opened the door for him.
"Good evening, Carl." He replied before smoothly sliding into the car. Carl closed the door in time for blood to trickle down his nose and stain the whole cuff of his sleeve. He reached into his pocket, fetched his handkerchief and held it against his nose as he tilted his head back to stop the bleeding.
"Should I stop by the hospital, sir?" Carl asked him. He had gotten into the car and had noticed his situation.
He shook his head. There was no need to, it didn't matter if he died now or in a few months; he'd die anyway.
"No. The penthouse please." He replied.
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