136 — “Don’t give up this time.”

I take a deep breath, leaving the room first, fixing my skirt and hair, even though I’ve already done it at least three times. The sound of my heels echoing down the corridor seems louder and uncomfortable, especially as I press my legs together, afraid that Julian’s pleasure will run down my thighs.
I push open the restroom door, my heart beating quickly from the adrenaline, but when I finally enter the room, with the door closing behind me, my feet freeze on the floor.
Sarah is washing her hands, her head down, so serene and composed that I feel out of place. I fix my hair again, afraid that something will give away what I’ve just done.
She finally looks at me, but I can’t read her thoughts through her expression. Her intense silence disturbs me, perhaps because the sound of falling water reminds me that there’s something inside me that can also flow.
I breathe deeply, walking slowly across the room, escaping Sarah’s gaze that follows me now through the mirror. I press my thighs together, stopping in front of the sink, with a safe distance between us.
“Ms. O’Neil,” Sarah says, catching my fearful eyes. Her calm, serene tone somehow makes a discomfort settle in my chest. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, of course.” I find my voice, but it comes out more nervous than I’d like.
“That time, when you gave up the leadership of the project, you said I was more qualified for that position.” She says slowly, turning off the tap and finally turning her attention to me. “Did you mean it?”
At the time, I didn’t really think I was capable or worthy, and I knew there was someone more qualified and prepared than me.
However, now that I think about it, I think I was afraid of making decisions. It scared me because I know that if you want something, you have to give up something else. At least, that’s how I felt when I thought that by wanting my father’s presence so much, I ended up losing my mother’s.
I guess I was always comfortable letting them choose for me — guide me... it’s something I got used to. Eric commanded me like a golden puppet, his favorite doll, and I let him do it.
But now, I’ve got used to doing what I want, taking charge of my feelings and my wishes. I can take my own steps and do what I want with all my heart. I’ve learned to be in control, even if I like to hand it over to Julian sometimes.
I think I’ve really grown stronger, huh?
“If you truly think that, you can’t see yourself properly,” Sarah says at last, cutting through my nostalgic thoughts but surprising me with her words. “I’ve been with this company for a long time, and I can tell you, few people work as hard as you do.”
I take a deep breath, watching Sarah dry her hands on the paper napkin without a blink.
“I know that most of your effort is to prove yourself worthy of what you have, to thank your father for giving you the opportunity to work for a company like J’O Technology, but you know what?” She looks over her shoulder and gives me a discreet smile. “You got where you are because of yourself.”
I blink a few times, feeling my eyes ache, and for some reason, my throat tightens. I swallow hard, trying to inflate my lungs, but no air seems to get through it.
“If anyone thinks you’ve made it this far because of the influence of your name, they certainly aren’t part of this team and don’t see what a great job you’ve done over the past year.” Sarah crumples the paper but keeps it in her hands. Her eyes lower again, almost like she’s shy. “I can tell you better than anyone... after all, I’ve been supervising you since the beginning.”
“What?” My lips open in surprise, and my eyebrows raise. That’s certainly news to me.
“You may have worked here because your father wanted you to, but it’s to your merit that you’ve stayed and earned your place. If you didn’t do a good job, I would have told you. That was my duty.”
I’m really speechless...
“But your name, it was chosen because you worked for it and achieved it with your own hands... not as an O’Neil — but as Angelee.”
A heavy tear falls from my eye. I try to wipe my face, but it hasn’t left any wet traces. Fortunately, Sarah doesn’t seem to have caught a glimpse of it.
“If you’ve been chosen as a candidate, it’s because they trust your potential.” Sarah sighs and throws her paper tissue in the garbage can. Then she turns to me, her expression serene, her eyes shining with something I could swear is pride. “So don’t give up this time.”
I gasp, finally inflating my lungs, and nod slowly.
Honestly, I don’t care if my expression also gives me away, if my feelings are all over my face. My eyes are watery, and I know Sarah can tell... but I don’t really care.
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask in a shaky voice, slowly curling my fingers and lowering my eyes to my feet. “I thought you hated me.”
“Hate you?” Her surprised voice also makes my eyes widen and lift to meet the genuine doubt in her face. “I can be a bit harsh and demanding, but not because I dislike you... I just knew you could do better. Your potential needed to be pushed... I wanted to see this *better.”*
I feel my legs wobble, and I lean on the sink.
“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. People used to have their judgment affected by baseless rumors, but I never let my opinion be affected by your personal life or by the lies they told about it — which everyone can see now.” Sarah shrugs her shoulders, suddenly annoyed, and runs a hand through her sleek hair. “My husband always tells me that I need to improve my expression and my way of speaking... I think I should listen to him a bit more-”
My discreet laugh interrupts her, and I quickly cover my mouth, my gaze softening into a silent apology. But when Sarah also returns a smile, relief spreads through my chest.
“I’m looking forward to seeing what kind of project you come up with.” She walks slowly to the door and turns to me again, gripping the handle. “I have no doubt that in the end, I will call you boss.”
“Your name is there too. Who knows, maybe you’ll be the one ordering me around.” I say softly, noticing that her smile widens even more — if that’s possible. I’d like to pinch myself to make sure this isn’t a dream or something.
“Then do your best and beat me because I’ll strive for that too.” Without saying another word, Sarah leaves the restroom, leaving me alone.
And the click of the door closing reminds me to breathe.
*A project to save Dynamic CO.*
*A project that will lead me to the position of Project Director.*
“Let’s do our best, baby…” I say quietly, stroking my belly. “I will do my best to make everyone proud.”
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I knock on the door, right above the sign that says MICHAEL O’NEIL, and it’s not long before I hear my father’s familiar voice on the other side, slightly muffled. I grip the handle fearfully, my heart racing and threatening to go up into my throat.
But I gather my courage and open the door, revealing the large, classic room, different from the minimalist, modern style of the Vice President’s office, which I know has remained the same, even in Julian’s absence.
I enter slowly, closing the door behind me as my eyes watch every detail around me. Large bookcases full of books, works of art on the walls, and a carpet that looks really expensive and old, which I confess to be always afraid to step on.
“Hi, sweetheart.” My father says, lifting his eyes from the papers he’s holding and looking at me over the top of his glasses. Time has passed, and although he carries signs of it with him, Daddy remains jovial; gray hair has started to appear, as the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiles at me, but still, he looks pretty young for his age.
However, I can’t help but notice how tired he looks, with discreet dark circles under his eyes and his forehead marked by wrinkles from all the frowning.
“Hey, Daddy,” I say in a thin, almost faltering voice, now standing in front of his organized desk, lowering my eyes to the papers, to the picture frames that are there, exactly three.
One of them is a picture of me as a child, something he asked me for when he saw the album my mother made to keep track of my growth. I like to think that this was her way of ensuring that my father could share these moments someday. Time really doesn’t go back, and we can’t correct our mistakes, but we all do what we can to make up for them.
The second picture frame shows the first photo my father and I took together. Our genuine smiles on this sunny day are proof that his love and his care have healed my wounds.
And the third is an old photo, slightly yellowed by time. Two teenagers are leaning on a car, dirty with something I assume is grease, while a blond boy, also dirty and messy, sits on the car hood, making the peace sign with his small fingers. Their smiles are so radiant that they warm my chest, and I can see it was a fun day and a warm memory, even if I don’t know the story behind it.
“Who would have thought he’d grow up so much?” My father says suddenly, rousing me from my thoughts. He picks up the frame I’ve been staring at and looks at it tenderly. “He was eight years old... Julian, I mean.”
Yes, I thought that it was a picture of Julian as a boy, but the other blond teenager, tall and strong, who also reminds me of Julian, is the one who really grabs my attention.
“He was always pestering us, getting himself in the middle of everything we planned... Imagine two teenagers carrying a child around... it wasn’t nice, especially when we want to see girls...” He laughs, and his eyes fill with nostalgic tears, reflecting feelings I can’t decipher. “But secretly, we loved it.”
“Who’s that with you in the photo?” I ask fearfully, feeling my own throat tighten.
“Well, I’m not surprised that Julian doesn’t mention him to you... It’s something we’d rather avoid, even though so many years have passed.” Daddy strokes the face in the photo with his thumb, then sighs slowly... “This is Jack, Julian’s older brother.”
*Julian’s older brother...?*
“My eternal best friend.”