I fled the oppressive atmosphere at home, seeking refuge in the warmth of my friend Emily's presence. The tension between Clyde and me still simmered, and Aunt Trish's venomous words lingered, refusing to dissipate. I needed a respite from the unanswered questions and unresolved emotions.
As I arrived at Emily's, her bright smile enveloped me, temporarily dispelling the gloom.
"Hey, girl!" Emily exclaimed, flinging open the door. Her eyes, however, told a different story – dark circles and tension etched on her usually radiant face.
"Hey," I replied, concern etched on my own. "What's wrong?"
Emily sighed, the weight of her responsibilities evident. "Mom and Dad's anniversary is next week. Thirty years together, and everything needs to be perfect." Her voice trembled.
I nodded empathetically. "That's amazing! But also stressful, I get it."
"Stressful?" Emily laughed, a hint of hysteria creeping in. "That's an understatement. Catering, decorations, guest list... I'm drowning in details."
Together, we dived into party planning, brainstorming ideas and solutions. Emily's kitchen transformed into a command center, with lists, color swatches, and catering menus scattered across the table. Laughter replaced stress as we lost ourselves in creativity.
For a blissful few hours, I forgot.
Aunt Trish's biting words.
Clyde's secrets.
Anissa's mysterious past.
But as I prepared to leave, reality beckoned.
Unanswered questions.
I stormed out of Emily's, determination renewed. Clyde's secrets wouldn't remain hidden. I arrived at his office, a sleek skyscraper in the heart of the city. Confidence propelled me forward, but the receptionist's firm tone halted my progress.
"Hi, I'm here to see Clyde," I told her, trying to sound calm.
She smiled politely, her eyes flicking to her computer screen. "I'm afraid you need an appointment, Ms...?"
"Dahlia," I supplied, my patience already fraying.
People began to stare, whispers circulating through the waiting area.
"That's Dahlia, the actress," someone whispered.
Camera phones discreetly snapped photos, and I felt my annoyance grow.
Just as I was about to explode, Clyde emerged from his office, his expression surprised.
"Dahlia, what brings you here?" he asked, striding towards me.
The receptionist nodded, relieved. "Mr. Clyde, your appointment has arrived."
Clyde's gaze lingered on me, his eyes narrowing. "Give us a minute," he instructed the receptionist.
She disappeared, leaving us alone.
Clyde ushered me into his office, the door closing behind us with a soft click.
"Talk," he said, his tone firm but his eyes betraying curiosity.
I took a deep breath, my words spilling out.
"Clyde, I need answers. About your mom, about Anissa... about everything."
Clyde leaned against his desk, his arms crossed.
"What makes you think I have answers?" he asked, his voice low.
"I know you do," I pressed. "And I'm not leaving until I get the truth."
Clyde's expression remained impassive, his eyes locked on mine, as if shielding his thoughts from me. "No more questions, Dahlia," he said, his voice firm, yet laced with a hint of regret.
He checked his watch, the gold band glinting in the fluorescent light. "I have a meeting." His tone brokered no argument.
Without another word, he turned to leave, but not before ushering me into his office. "Karen," he instructed his secretary, his voice authoritative.
"Make sure Ms. Dahlia has unrestricted access to me." His gaze lingered on mine, the intensity making my pulse quicken. "Always."
Karen nodded, her eyes darting to me before returning to her screen. "Yes, sir."
Clyde departed, leaving me alone amidst the opulence of his office. The space enveloped me, beautifully designed and decorated with elegance.
A stark contrast to his dull home, I thought, my mind wandering to the humble abode we once shared.
My gaze drifted, drinking in every detail. Something caught my eye - the pen I gifted him on our first anniversary. It lay on his desk, a symbol of our past, a reminder of happier times.
Nearby, the Valentine's card I once gave him was framed and hung on the wall, a declaration of love frozen in time. My heart skipped a beat as memories flooded my mind.
Further exploration revealed more treasures. A framed picture of us, taken on that sun-kissed beach vacation two years ago, smiled back at me. Laughter, joy, and love radiated from the image.
Tears pricked at my eyes. Why did he keep these reminders? Did he still care? Or was it nostalgia?
I felt a presence behind me. Karen.
"Can I get you anything, Ms. Dahlia?" she asked, her voice soft.
I shook my head, lost in thought, as the past and present collided.