Broken Hearts and Last Goodbyes [27]

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27. Broken Hearts and Last Goodbyes

Maureen

Dad called me into his office the next afternoon, about an hour after he'd returned from work. I knew that he wouldn't have seen the letter before then, being that after dinner, he'd go to the library to work on paperwork- he avoided his office whenever he had the chance seeing as he spent the majority of his day in one. So I knew I had twenty-four hours, at least, before he'd see it.

I'd spent another night sobbing. I hadn't had the nerve to check my phone because I knew that he was trying to reach me. I didn't know if it was kindness I was doing him or cruelty - all I knew was that in those dark, hysterical moments of screaming into my pillow, the thought of fleeing became almost too irresistible for me to suppress. And I knew that had I chosen in those moments to open up those text messages or listen to those voicemails, I'd be tempted to leave it all... to run to him and hide myself forever. Whatever ramifications that followed, whatever the consequences - it'd be worth it, wouldn't it? I'd beg myself, desperately trying to ignore the whispering voice that said, but give up your family? Your home, your life... your God? I loved Ryan. But would that be enough?

I paused outside my father's office room door and stared up at the dark, glossy wood. The sound of my heart thudded in my chest like a dull drum.

I just need answers, I told myself. That's all I'm here for.

I sucked in a shaking breath and turned the knob hesitantly.

My father was sitting behind his desk, his reading glasses propped on his nose, staring down at a pile of paperwork. When I came in, his eyes flickered up to meet mine and held them.

"Come in, Maureen... sit down over here." His voice gave away nothing.

I did, sinking down into one of the chairs in front of the desk. I watched him as he gathered his paperwork together and placed it into a drawer. He moved slowly, methodically, his brow drawn in an expression of deep thought. He didn't speak for a long time, it felt like, and my palms grew clammy in the thick silence hanging over the room.

"I read your letter, Maureen." he said finally.

I didn't say anything, waiting for him to go on. He did, watching me carefully.

"I wanted to first address the three requests you ended your letter with... the first, that is, a job for the boy... that almost goes without saying. I've already spoken with Connor, my contact at the agency and he's agreed to make arrangements for Mr. Adams' new job. I've instructed Connor to be flexible, to adhere to the boy's needs as he sees fit.

"The second, which is concerning the little girl, his sister... Of course, Maureen. I wouldn't expect anything less from you," here was the first time he showed an emotion I was familiar with and this time, it was just a shadow of softness - but it was there, hidden behind the creases and sharp lines of a face taut with exhaustion. "Continuing the little girl's treatment is imperative and I would never suggest pulling out of helping those people - as I hear it, she's showing remarkable improvements so everything will continue as before, in that respect...

"About seeing him to break things off... that's fine. You won't be going alone though, so expect to take one of the bodyguards with you. The agency is sending over a new chauffeur... so he'll drive you."

"Thank you." I whispered.

"The rest... we will talk about later," here he sighed and reached up, in a surprisingly weak gesture, to cover his face. "For now... just know that of course I forgive you... You should know that I already have."

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