Chasing Liaison

I wish

Liaison- Chapter 1

Sometimes, I wish my life was different. What am I saying? I want my life to be different. I dream of the day when I finally have my career - a head chef in my restaurant - a cozy little spot, that everyone loves.

I wish for a husband, but I'm willing to settle for a boyfriend at this point. I just want to have someone who loves and cherishes me - someone who will accept my flaws - one who will give me the security that I need, a strong man, one who knows how to take care of his woman, a man above all other men.

I want a house, the biggest one on the street, in the friendliest neighbourhood where all the people are nice to each other and every garden has a picket fence guarding the prettiest flowers.

I want the house filled with children - little girls that look like me and twin boys that take after their father. I want those children to drive me insane so I can tell everyone how they do with pride.

"Hey! Did you hear me?" Martha asked snapping her sausage-like fingers in front of my face breaking my daydream.

"Um... what?" I asked blinking away the daze.

"I said, Arble said he wants you to stay on late," she tells me with a sour scowl. She's my least favorite person here - honestly, I hate her.

Arble's super store is where I've worked since I was sixteen and Martha has been here longer. She's as old as the shelves inside here and she walks around like it's her name painted in bright red on the shutters outside.

"Uh-huh... can't do it and you know why."

She cracks, "Well take it up with him then. I'm just passing on a message."

I know she's lying because of how long I've been working here. Arble has never spoken to me or passed on any messages. I don't know why he never speaks to me. It's more likely that he told her to do it, but because she doesn't want to, she's passing the task to me. Well, no fucking way, not today.

"I'm not doing it," I protest and she shrugs and says nothing.

I thought she would leave, but she stands and stares instead. Her hatred for me is palpable and I hope my face reflects the same.

"What!?" I quiz because if there's nothing else, what the fuck is she looking at?

She spits, "nothing, I just can't wait to see the back of you is all," then she walks away.

"I can't wait to see the back of you too." I mumble under my breath. God, I hate her.

Not giving a shit about Martha, or the so-called message from Arble, I lean on the counter and start to think about my family.

I don't know who my real parents are. I live with my adopted parents since I was ten years old and Margaret and Robert Harris are the people I grew to call mom and dad.

They've been married for over twenty years and they're good people. Jared is the boy they adopted along with me.

They tried their best at raising us. They treated me well in comparison to the treatment that I received while I was in foster care, but I found that they weren't attentive enough.

Most of the time they would be gone for long periods of time and as long as there was a sitter, food in the fridge, and clean clothes to wear, they assumed me and Jared were ok.

Margret's an interior designer. She's great at decorating. Her skills showed throughout our immaculate three-bedroomed house and reflects in her business. She was always away decorating.

Robert is a captain on a fishing boat so we didn't get to see him often. When he did come home, it would only be for short periods of time because he had to leave for the start of the new season.

Jared is older than me by three years and he's a bit troubled. We don't speak anymore because he's in prison now.

In our teenage years, he got mixed up in a gang, then he started substance abuse. He got addicted and because of it, he started stealing.

I don't know which of his habits were worse - the drinking and drugs, or the gambling. I've watched Jared do a lot of crazy things when he was drunk, but his gambling was on a different level.

I can remember the day he gambled our parent's house and lost it to the leader of his gang. When I asked him what he was going to do, he told me not to worry and he made me promise to do whatever I could do to help him get it back.

One night he didn't come and I got worried, so I called him. That's when he told me to meet him at the bar where he normally hung out with his friends. I was hesitant at first because I was underage, but Jared assured me that it was fine and that he would take care of me.

When I got there, his friends bullied me down to the basement. There, I saw Jared tied up. His face was bloody and one of his eyes was swollen shut. It really frightened me. I also couldn't understand why his friends weren't helping him.

"I really need your help now Lee," I remembered Jared pleading.

"Of course. What do you need me to do?" I asked without a second thought. When I tried to move closer to him someone stopped me.

"I'm sorry," Jared said not explaining further, then one of the older boys came out of nowhere and grabbed me.

"What's it to be Jared?" Nate, the leader of the gang asked as his eyes trailed up and down my body. I squirmed under his scrutiny when I recognized him.

He used to come over to our house when our parents weren't there. On those occasions, I would lock myself in my room because I felt uncomfortable around him. Once he told me that he could barely wait for me to get old enough.

"Her," Jared whispered. I didn't register what was about to happen until it was too late.

Several days after leaving the hospital, Margaret and Rob told me what happened, and guilty, my brother handed himself in.

At his sentencing, I saw how much it hurt our parents, especially Margaret, her only son was locked up and after three months I couldn't take the guilt, so I ran away. I ended up in Bristol, one of the major cities in the UK.

That's when I became independent. I was lucky enough to find a hostel where they didn't ask too many questions about why a girl my age was checking in by herself. They just accepted the money for the room and left me alone.

Margaret and Rob begged me to come home, but I couldn't go back because there are just so many bad memories there. However, we came to an agreement. They would send me money, and they would leave me alone if I accepted it. I also had to checked in with them at the end of every month, which I did.

After some time passed, I found a job working on the help desk at Arbles superstore. Now, seven years later at the age of twenty-three, I'm about to quit. I've given all that I can to this place, and I never get rewarded.

Instead, there is an owner who doesn't speak to me, and a wench for a manager who's always breathing down my neck. Nothing I do is ever good enough. The long hours, the extra training, the volunteer work, the over-time and ass kisses got me nowhere. In the beginning, I thought it was the best thing to do but I found out how wrong I was.

Now ten minutes away from finishing my last shift here, I'm being told to stay late, Martha can kiss my ass because that's never going to happen.

No-one has come to wish me farewell - not even the people who I thought I got along with came to say goodbye. I'm at the edge of an irrational break down and I want to curse everyone the fuck out, but I don't. Instead of doing it, I walk out from behind the counter and I take off the red shirt with the shitty logo on it. I'm heading towards the changing room then I'm getting out of here.

After I changed, I divert towards Arble's office to leave the shirt on his desk. His office door is shut and when I shake the handle it doesn't open - it's locked. Blowing out a frustrating breath, I make my way out of the building and when I reach the exit, I stuff the shirt and name badge in the nearest bin - I don't give a crap who sees. I mean, what can Martha do? Fire me?