Patrick was taken aback when Emilia emerged from the venue alone. As always, she greeted him with pleasantness.
"I must express my gratitude, Dr. Vincent," Patrick said sincerely.
"Gratitude?" Emilia questioned.
"I haven't told you what transpired yet. I forwarded your calculations to the head of accounting for review."
"The head of accounting? That was quite unnecessary, Mr. Cosby."
"It turns out that it was actually very necessary. The mistake wasn't yours. We're currently working on rectifying the issue. You should know that you saved us from potential trouble further down the line."
"Seriously?" Emilia exclaimed, surprised.
"Indeed," Patrick confirmed.
"That's unbelievable!" Emilia replied, a mix of relief and astonishment evident in her voice.
"What sparked your interest in accounting?" Patrick inquired.
"I mentioned the possibility of a second job, and I'm considering pursuing an MBA to work as a consultant in the business domain. However, I'm still unsure if it's the right path for me," Emilia explained.
"It sounds like a promising idea," Patrick encouraged, offering a warm smile.
"Thank you. I didn't see Mr. Hayden around tonight," Emilia remarked.
"No, he arrived fairly recently," Patrick informed her.
"I see. The driver must be waiting, so if you don't mind, I'll take my leave," Emilia stated.
"Of course. Good night, Dr. Vincent," Patrick bid her farewell.
"Good night, Mr. Cosby," Emilia replied before heading off.
Patrick patiently waited for Christopher. When he finally appeared, Patrick immediately noticed a change in his demeanor. Concern etched across his face, he straightened up, ready to offer his support.
"Is everything alright, sir?" Patrick inquired.
"Everything's fine," Christopher replied, his cold voice betraying his true emotions.
"Did you miss Dr. Vin... Hayden?" Patrick asked, hoping to alleviate some of the tension.
"Unfortunately, yes," Christopher answered, entering the backseat of the car. He remained silent for the entirety of the journey back to the manor, lost in his own thoughts.
Patrick couldn't shake off the feeling that something had happened at the opera house. His worry for both Christopher and Emilia only intensified, leaving him anxious and longing for answers. He couldn't let the truth to come out now. It would be an end of him, and Christopher who will have to either let Emilia go and lose his company, or force Emilia to stay which would be the end of Emilia. It was beyond the point of return.
Christopher entered the house barely quarter of an hour after Emilia, but there was no sign of her presence in the darkness of the hallway. His steps are heavy, lacking their usual vigor. The house is quiet, save for the distant sound of a ticking clock.
Christopher closed the door behind him, shutting out the outside world.
With slow, deliberate movements, Christopher made his way to his study. The room was filled with shelves of books, the scent of leather and aged paper permeating the air. The dim lighting casted long shadows, mirroring Christopher's somber mood.
He settled into his leather armchair, his gaze fixed on the wood of the desk. The weight of his earlier decision and a challenging reminder of his past swirled in his mind, a storm of thoughts and worries. He reached for a decanter on the side of his desk, placed on a small table and pours himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid reflecting the dim light. Christopher took a sip, allowing the warmth to spread through his body. The bitter taste mingled with the bitterness of his thoughts. He stares into the depths of the liquid, lost in contemplation.
Minutes turned into hours as Christopher was consumed by his own introspection. The light from a solitary lamp casted a soft glow on his troubled face. He traced his fingers along the rim of the glass, lost in memories and regrets.
The silence was broken by the sound of raindrops tapping against the windowpane adding to the melancholy, each drop echoing Christopher's heavy heart.
He took another sip, the whiskey's warmth offering a fleeting escape from the weight of the world.
With a heavy sigh, Christopher sets the glass aside. He leaned back in his armchair, his tired eyes fixed on the rows of books lining the shelves.
The study became a sanctuary, a refuge where Christopher can find respite from the burdens of the day.
Feeling his body's fatigue, and ignoring his mind's continuing torment, he went to get the much needed sleep.
Emilia stepped through the front door of the manor merely fifteen minutes before Christopher did. She had a lingering smile on her face.
The concert she had just attended was nothing short of breathtaking. The melodies still danced in her mind, each note carrying with it a piece of her heart. She took a moment to bask in the afterglow of the music, allowing the memories to envelop her. The way the music had swelled, filling the grand hall with its majestic presence, had moved her deeply. She had felt connected to something greater, something beyond words. It was as if the music had touched her soul, leaving an indelible mark.
Lost in her reverie, Emilia's thoughts meandered to her new friend, Grace. During the evening, Grace had whispered something intriguing, hinting at Christopher's potential interest in Emilia.
Christopher, a man with a mysterious aura and an enigmatic presence, had intrigued her. She knew more and more about him, much more than almost anyone else, but yet, she didn't know anything at all.
Emilia wondered what Christopher was truly like behind the veil of his composed demeanor. She envisioned him attending the concert, his eyes captivated by the musicians, his soul transported by the melodies. Would he feel the same magic that she had experienced?
She imagined Christopher dressed in a tailored suit, his posture exuding elegance and confidence. His eyes, she speculated, would be deep pools of contemplation, as they always did. But she believed that they were hiding a wealth of emotions waiting to be unveiled. What stories did those eyes hold? What secrets did his heart safeguard?
Emilia recalled their occasional encounters, where their conversations had been brief yet somehow filled with an unspoken understanding. She had always admired Christopher's intelligence and the way he effortlessly commanded a room. But she knew that there must be a certain air of vulnerability beneath his composed facade.
A gentle sigh escaped Emilia's lips as she allowed her thoughts to wander further, imagining the possibility of an unexpected connection with Christopher. What conversations would they share? What passions would they discover together? Could the music that had stirred her soul also resonate within his?
Or maybe not. After all, she was just Emilia Vincent, and he was THE Christopher Hayden. She did her job and spoke of him well to anyone willing to listen, planting seeds into conversations. Their understanding was that they were not to bother each other unnecessarily, and she was to not cross his path unless absolutely needed.
Emilia let out yet another sigh before changing herself into her pyjamas with the cartoon characters. She laid in bed, listening to the rain outside, listening to its melody, so similar yet so different or the music made by a human.