Chapter 22: Former Apartment
Amaris POV:
As we headed to our former apartment, we made a quick stop to purchase a taser, wanting to be prepared and protected in case of any unexpected encounters. Fortunately, our caution was unwarranted, and we arrived at the apartment without incident. The building was quiet, and we didn't run into anyone, a welcome relief after the anxiety and fear that had gripped us earlier. We breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the uneventful trip, and began to gather our belongings, eager to leave the past behind and start anew.
"I can't believe I get to wake up to this stunning skyline view every day!" I exclaimed, gazing out at the breathtaking panorama. The sleek skyscrapers and bustling cityscape stretched out before me, a constant reminder of the excitement and possibilities that lay ahead.
Mia was about to say something but her words trailed off as her phone suddenly buzzed to life in her hand, the ringing tone piercing the air. She hesitated, her eyes flicking to the screen, and then back to me. "Hold that thought, Ammie," she said with a hint of apology, answering the call. "Hey, Dad." Her tone was cautious, a subtle tension creeping into her voice as she spoke.
Mia's voice trembled as she spoke, her words laced with a mix of surprise, sadness, and confusion. "Dad?" she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "I know who it is, dad... you knew?" Her voice cracked as she struggled to process the conversation. "I thought you'd abandoned me," she whispered, the pain and vulnerability evident in her tone. But then, her expression shifted, and a faint smile appeared. "Thanks, dad... I love you too, daddy," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, before hanging up the phone. Tears streamed down her face, a mix of joy and relief washing over her, as she gazed at me with a look of stunned disbelief.
“What did he say?” I asked, my eyes wide in anticipation.
"He inquired if I was aware of the mastermind behind the threat, and mentioned that he knew they didn't intend to harm me, otherwise, the agreement would be null and void. He also assured me that he had already dispatched a team to handle the situation with my boss." Her casual demeanor belied the gravity of the conversation, but her eyes still sparkled with a hint of wonder and relief.
I raised an eyebrow and drawled, "When you say 'handle’, I'm assuming you mean something a bit more... extreme, like torture or perhaps even eliminating your boss?" My tone was laced with skepticism, and I watched Mia's reaction closely, curious if she would confirm my suspicions.
Mia nodded, her expression somber. "Yeah, something like that," she admitted, her voice laced with a mix of relief and resignation. "That's exactly why I wanted out of that life," she continued, her eyes cast downward as she walked towards the couch. "At least I know my dad still has my back," she said, a hint of gratitude in her tone. But then her expression shifted to frustration, "And now, I'll have to find a new job." She sighed, dropping onto the couch, the weight of her situation settling back onto her shoulders.
I offered a reassuring smile, trying to lift her spirits. "Come on, Mia, getting a new job won't be a problem, right? Your dad has tons of connections, he can easily pull some strings and get you a great spot at one of those top advertising firms. You'll be back on your feet in no time!" I said, trying to sound optimistic and confident, hoping to alleviate her concerns.
“I know. But that's not what I want.” She moaned.
I furrowed my brow, perplexed. "Wait, what do you mean that's not what you want? You've always been passionate about your work in advertising. What's changed? What else are you looking to do now?" I asked, my tone laced with genuine confusion and curiosity.
Mia clarified, her eyes sparkling with determination. "I'm not saying I want to leave advertising, but I want to earn my next job on my own merit, without my father's influence. I want to be hired because of my skills and hard work, not because of who my dad is. I want to experience the thrill of landing a job through my own efforts, without any connections or favors." Her voice was filled with a sense of purpose and independence.
I nodded in support, "Oh, I see. That's not a problem at all! If you want to go out there and land a job on your own terms, that's totally awesome! I'm actually really proud of you for wanting to do it this way. It's a great way to build confidence and learn valuable skills. But," I added, noticing her frustration, "why do you seem so upset about it? You're acting like it's a challenge or something." I asked, my curiosity piqued.
Mia let out a wry laugh, “Just wait until I break the news to my dad that I don't need his help, that I want to find a job on my own. He's going to be...interesting to deal with, let's just say." Her eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and trepidation, anticipating the reaction she knew was coming.
A pang of envy washed over me, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. Mia's words had unwittingly uncovered a tender spot within me, and memories of my own difficult past came flooding back. I had grown accustomed to keeping those emotions at bay, but in this moment, they resurfaced.
“Dad!” I yelled, fear slithering down my spine.
“Mommy! Mommy, daddy has blood coming out of his head” I cried as my mom ran down the stairs.
The memory came flooding back, and I felt like a child again, standing in that same spot, frozen in shock and confusion. My mother's anguished cries still echoed in my mind, as she cradled my father's lifeless body in her arms. I remembered feeling so lost and scared, not fully understanding what had happened, but knowing that something was terribly wrong. The image of the hole in my father's forehead was forever etched in my mind, a gruesome reminder of the violence that had taken him from me. Even now, the pain and grief felt like a fresh wound, and I couldn't help but wonder what my life would have been like if he had been spared.
Mia's urgent voice pierced through my reverie, jolting me back to reality. "Amaris! Amaris, are you okay?" she exclaimed, her hands grasping my shoulders as she peered at me with concern etched on her face. Her gaze was intense, as if searching for any sign of distress.
I attempted to brush off her concern with a hasty smile, but my efforts were betrayed by the traitorous tear that escaped my eye and landed on the ground. I swiftly wiped away the evidence, but Mia's keen gaze had already caught the telltale sign of my distress. Her eyes softened with empathy, and she reached out to offer a comforting embrace.
As Mia enveloped me in a warm hug, I felt a sense of gratitude wash over me. She didn't need to ask what was wrong; our bond was so strong that she instinctively knew when I was struggling. I realized, not for the first time, how fortunate I was to have her in my life. After my father's passing, her family had been a rock for mine, offering support and comfort in our darkest moments. And Mia, in particular, had become more than just a best friend – she was a sister, a confidante, a kindred spirit. We had been inseparable since then, our friendship forged in the fire of adversity.
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