Chapter 13 You should hear her sing
“You look like a star, Molly. Too bad you’re just a nanny,” Roger casually said. Something died inside of me, and for a moment, I wanted to run back inside to change.
The high-fashion dress and stilettos accessorized with sunglasses gave me an amazing look, but it never reminded me of my glorious days.
Sorrow weighed heavy on my heart, but I replied, “Thanks for the compliment, Roger. Peace of mind matters more than being a star.”
Confusion clouded Roger’s mind as he sat in the back seat with us. The driver drove to his school, and on the way, Roger spoke again.
“It’s pathetic that because you can’t reach the sky, you put peace of mind above it. When you are a star, you have everything and can do whatever you like. What is better than that?”
As a four-year-old, I understood his perspective but couldn’t help being saddened by my past challenges. I decided to say no more, but Gianni spoke out of the blue.
“Molly was a superstar before, and she will be again. You should hear her sing.”
My heart stopped immediately. I had no idea that Gianni knew all this about me, but Roger was extremely excited. It shone in his eyes.
“You are a star and can sing?” Roger asked eagerly.
I shook my head and replied, “I’m not a star. Never was, never will be, and I haven’t even sung in the past two years,” revealing the increasing sorrow in my heart.
Ever since the day I was shamed off the stage, my passion died inside me.
Gianni looked displeased, but I found it hard to read his mind or understand him from my perspective, so I couldn't dwell on it.
What amazed me was when he reached Roger’s school. He got out of the car, looked me in the eyes, and spat.
“You are so pathetic. Dad said you are a star, and you condemned yourself. How can you become somebody when you look down on yourself so much?”
I froze instantly. Was the little boy scolding me? It all made sense that he saw the world from the perspective I did before.
Things were just as he said until I faced the worst betrayal. Before I could respond, he ran off.
“I’m sorry about that. He’s been like a best friend to me, so we happened to talk a lot. I literally spent all my free time with him,” Gianni apologized, but I couldn’t blame the boy.
“He is entitled to his own opinion.”
“I agree,” Gianni replied, asking, “don’t you want to try out your talent again?”
His question brought back so many bitter memories that a tear fell from my eyes before I could stop it, but I quickly brushed it away with the back of my hand, hoping he wouldn’t see.
Gianna perceived me as weak, which was true, but now I am determined to improve. He offered me his white handkerchief, indicating that he noticed the teardrop.
How embarrassing! I still thanked him nonetheless. "Thank you."
"We are going to my office," he said as he received a call, the name of the caller escaping my notice.
"It's alright. I promise to spend Saturday with you. Is that enough?" I wondered if that was his wife. Who else would he spend a whole day with, given how busy he was?
"Okay, add it to your schedule and take good care of yourself. It's okay. Do you need anything else? Good. I will call you to check on you in the evening, but remember to eat enough protein."
His voice was gentle as he spoke to the person on the phone, just like he did with Roger. It made me uneasy.
"Is that your wife?" I asked after he hung up. He stared at me and replied, "The divorce lawyer is at the office. I will leave you with him in the conference room and take care of a few things."
I watched as the car veered into an underground parking lot, coming to a stop by the time he finished speaking.
The driver got out of the driver's seat to open the door for him, and as he stepped out, he held the door for me.
"Thank you," I said as I stepped out, and he led me to the elevator.
With no queue and being the only people using it, I assumed it was a private elevator.
Gianni had a skillful way of avoiding my questions. He never disclosed what happened with those two men, and now he refuses to discuss his wife.
Upon the elevator doors opening, I was greeted by a glass room, which I presumed to be a conference room, but it was already occupied by about twenty people.
"What's happening?" Gianni seemed unaware of the room being occupied, but his secretary, Marie, quickly approached him. When our eyes met, hers turned dark and hostile.
"Sir, why is she here?"