ALONE ON THE STREET
"Didn't you hear what I said." Lisa's words bore into Antonio's head. He looked at way, shaking his head slightly.
He should have known that Lisa would join the others in mocking him. But his still didn't reduce the love he had for her.
"Antonio!" He voice picked up.
"What are you standing around for?" Lisa snapped. "Fetch us some drinks. We're parched."
The other women snickered as Antonio gave a small nod and headed to the kitchen.
He hurried through the swinging kitchen door and began preparing drinks, carefully arranging them on a silver tray.
He could still hear the women's voices drifting in from the hall, each comment like a needle pricking his skin.
"He's such a pushover," Cherry said.
"Annabelle really did pick the most useless one," Sandra added with a laugh.
Antonio bit his lip, trying to drown out the voices as he focused on the task at hand. He knew he wasn't useless, but in this house, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't defend himself.
When the drinks were ready, he carried the tray back into the hall.
He had learned to balance it just so, to avoid any spills or accidents. But as he approached Cherry, ready to hand her a glass, his foot caught on the edge of the thick Persian rug that lined the floor.
The tray tilted in his hands, and before he could stop it, the drink tumbled forward, spilling all over Cherry's lap and her shoes.
Cherry's gasp was immediate, and the room fell silent for a moment.
Antonio stood frozen, mortified, as the liquid soaked into her designer shoes.
He stammered, "I'm sorry, I didn't—"
Cherry shot to her feet, her face twisted in fury.
"Do you have any idea how much these shoes cost?" she snapped, her voice rising with each word. "You've completely ruined them, you idiot!"
"I'm really sorry," Antonio said, his voice shaky. "It was an accident, I didn't mean to—"
Lisa stepped forward then, cutting him off with a sneer. "Of course you didn't mean to," she said. "You're just clumsy and incompetent, like always. Can't you do anything right?"
The other women burst into laughter, and Antonio felt his face burn with embarrassment.
He opened his mouth to defend himself, but the words died on his lips. What was the point? They would only twist whatever he said, turn it into something else to mock him for.
"Clean this mess up," Lisa ordered, pointing to the puddle of liquid on the floor. "Before you embarrass yourself any further."
Antonio stood there for a second, feeling the weight of their gazes on him, the laughter still ringing in his ears.
He wanted to say something, to stand up for himself, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he nodded quietly and turned toward the kitchen to fetch a rag.
As he wiped the floor, he could hear the women talking as though he wasn't even there.
By the time he finished cleaning, his hands were trembling from the mixture of humiliation and anger boiling inside him.
Just as Antonio was about to retreat back to the kitchen, the front door opened, and in walked Asher, Lisa's younger brother.
Asher was everything Antonio wasn't—confident, charming, the favorite son in their family.
He strode into the hall wearing a sharp suit that seemed to fit him like a second skin.
Asher glanced around the room, his eyes narrowing slightly at the scene before him—the women lounging around, Antonio crouched on the floor with a rag in hand.
"What's going on here?" Asher asked.
Lisa smirked and gestured toward Antonio. "Your brother in law had a little accident. He Spilled a drink all over Cherry's shoes. But don't worry, he's cleaning it up now."
Asher's eyes flicked toward Antonio, and for a moment, Antonio thought he saw a flash of something like pity in his brother's in law gaze. But it was gone just as quickly.
"Antonio," Asher said, "I need you to drive me to the corp. We've got a meeting to get to."
Antonio straightened up, wiping his hands on the rag, and gave a nod. "Alright. I'll get the car ready."
As he made his way out of the hall, the laughter of Lisa and her friends followed him like a dark cloud. He could feel their eyes on his back.
In the garage, Antonio gripped the steering wheel for a moment before starting the car, taking a deep breath.
Asher slid into the passenger seat beside him, his phone already out, scrolling through messages.
"Just drive," Asher finally said, not bothering to look up from his phone.
Antonio set his jaw and accelerated a little harder than usual, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.
He wasn't in the mood to deal with Asher's superiority complex today, especially after the humiliating encounter with Lisa and her friends.
The car sped up, the engine humming louder as they flew down the road.
"Whoa, what the hell are you doing?" Asher snapped, finally looking up from his phone as the car gained speed. "Are you trying to kill me or something?"
Antonio didn't answer right away. He was driving faster than usual, but part of him didn't care.
"Just slow down," Asher growled. "I don't need you to get me killed today."
Antonio let out a sharp breath, easing his foot off the gas slightly but not enough to satisfy Asher.
"I'm not trying to kill you," Antonio muttered under his breath. "I'm just driving."
"Yeah, well, drive like a normal person, not like some maniac who wants to end up in a ditch," Asher shot back, rolling his eyes and returning to his phone.
The rest of the ride was filled with tense silence, broken by the occasional sound of Asher tapping on his phone.
Antonio kept his eyes on the road, forcing himself to calm down.
When he finally arrived at the corporation.Asher looked over at Antonio with a bored expression.
"Wait here. I'll be back soon," Asher said, opening the car door and stepping out without another word.
Antonio watched as Asher disappeared into the building, the door swinging shut behind him.
He exhaled slowly, his hands still tight on the wheel. Waiting. Always waiting. That was what his life had become—waiting.
Ten minutes passed, and Antonio's mind drifted. But then the door to the building opened, and Asher emerged, walking beside another man.
The man had blonde hair, slicked back, and wore an expensive suit that screamed money and influence. They were talking in low voices, too far for Antonio to hear, but their body language spoke volumes.
Asher and the blonde-haired man shook hands as they approached the car, still deep in conversation.
There was something about the way they moved, like they were sealing a deal, something important.
When they reached the car, Asher tapped on the window, motioning for Antonio to roll it down.
"Get out of the car," Asher said flatly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Antonio blinked, caught off guard. "What? Why?"
"I don't need your services anymore," Asher replied. "I've got an important place to be, and I'm taking the car."
Antonio frowned. "Wait, how am I supposed to get home?"
Asher shrugged, clearly not caring. "Figure it out. Walk. Take the bus. I don't care."
The blonde-haired man gave Asher an irritated look, clearly impatient with the delay. "Come on, Asher, let's go. We don't have time for this."
Antonio felt the insult like a slap in the face. He had driven Asher here, done exactly what he had asked, and now he was being tossed aside like he didn't matter.
"I can't just walk home from here," Antonio said. "This is miles away."
Asher gave him a withering look, as if Antonio's problems were beneath him. "I really don't care, Antonio. Just figure it out. You're a big boy."
Before Antonio could respond, Asher reached into the car and turned off the stereo, then slid into the driver's seat, adjusting it to his liking.
The blonde-haired man got into the passenger seat, still looking annoyed. While Antonio stepped back.
Asher started the car without another word, and with a quick rev of the engine, the car zoomed off, leaving Antonio standing on the side of the road. The wind from the departing vehicle tousled his hair as he watched them disappear down the street, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.
For a moment, Antonio just stood there,
With a heavy sigh, Antonio started walking, his feet moving mechanically as he headed down the long stretch of road that led away from the corporation.
The walk was long, and with every step, the ache in his feet matched the growing ache in his chest. But there was no one to turn to, no one who would care that he had been left on the side of the road.