Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Six

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Six

Lachlan

My throat bobs as I swallow, watching Ellie sink into a doleful mood.
This isn’t going well.
"I’m desperate for attention. I want to experience all the moments I’ve lost, but nobody will have it. I really want you to be my friend, but I can tell you still don’t want to be." Her shoulders sag.
"Friends, Ellie. We were friends before you tried to force me into a relationship. You’re craving attention the wrong way. You let people grow on you; you let them decipher who you are and choose whether to stay or not. It’s called weeding out who’s right for you and who isn't."
"Am I right for you?"
"As a friend, you’re still under observation. As a potential lover—I won’t lie to you—it’s a no. I’m not an attention-giver. I’m aloof; I’m the last thing you need right now."
"Figures," she shrugs. "I was only testing you, by the way. Guess I’ll have one true friend to remember before I leave."
I blink. "Where?"
"I’m not dying," she deadpans.
"Now that you say it, I suspect you have intentions to do exactly that."
She grins, tucking her lip between her teeth. "I may be a weirdo, but I’m just enjoying the life I’ve been denied for so long. Death had better steer clear of my lane."
"Agreed," I say, adjusting my stance.
The shattering effect occurs again, but this time I do not react as I watch it, noting it is merely an illusion.
"I’ll be leaving in two days, before the New Year, so don't miss me too much," she says.
I snort. "Right... it’s not every day one comes across such an unhinged lady."
"Lachlan!" she snaps with a disapproving tone, though there’s a hint of mirth in her eyes.
"I’m being factual, and you..."
"Like it?" she questions. "So correct!" she says, pointing a finger at me.
I tsk. "You’re so predictable."
"Don’t be too quick to judge, Lachie," she admonishes, moving to retrieve the VR headset and controllers.
"So, where are you going?" I ask casually when she returns.
Ellie hunches one shoulder in a puerile manner, still grinning. "I don’t kiss and tell. If you want information, you pay the price."
"I wish you a safe journey then, I guess," I say, glancing at my wristwatch. I wish I had a meaningful schedule to use as an excuse to leave. I itch to go.
"Play a game with me, or kiss me as a farewell gift from my one true friend." She extends one of the headsets to me.
"I wish you well, Ellie."
"You’re very boring," she grumbles.
I make a knowing face. Then, to my chagrin, her face brightens as she claps in ecstasy. "I like it! Nothing is more romantic than 'opposites attract'."
"Ellie," I beg.
"Just one game. Have a bit of fun with me."
How did she evolve from a sophisticated lady into an annoying, freak-minded thing?
I eventually give in to her request for just one game and—damn—if that isn't the worst decision I’ve ever made. I had forgotten the part where she mentioned she enjoyed an adrenaline rush, which is why virtual reality is her favorite.
Regardless of how I struggle to tell myself this experience isn't real, I plunge deeper into the void. I cannot find my way out the moment the visor is lowered and I merge with the simulation.
Ellie has played me into a nightmare.
Everything around me is dark and distant, as if I’m floating in space, suspended in time. I try to find my hand, but no matter how far I reach, my body is unmoving.
Fear clogs my throat. My self detaches slowly until all that remains is a void.
Silence and pitch blackness.

Aiden

I monitor the shaman’s improvement by keeping in close contact with Rheanon. I am delighted to hear that the two of them get along well, and that the shaman is pleased to have her company.
"Alright, Grandma. Please, you don’t have to thank me," I insist as she continues to shower me with her appreciation and prayers. "I will call you later, then." The phone is returned to Rheanon.
"Goodbye, sir," Rheanon says.
"You too, Rheanon. Take care."
She ends the call first, and I set my phone down on the table, slicing more fruit for a salad.
Hermione waltzes in wearing her nightwear, looking delectable as always. "Grandma? You ordered a grandmother I was unaware of?" she asks, grabbing a fork and lifting a slice of fruit into her mouth.
I choke down an amused scoff. "Is there a grandmother manufacturing company now?" I tease.
"You would know," she replies, reaching for another. This time, she lifts it toward my mouth.
I accept her offering, beckoning her closer to give me a proper kiss.
She does. "Happy New Year, love, but..."
"Happy New Year to you, too," I cut in, knowing she isn't deterred from digging for information. Even though she isn't saying it, I know she’s more interested in who Rheanon is. "Jealous, are you?"
"Of an old woman? Cut me some slack." She rolls her eyes heavenward.
"Rheanon," I begin, and my grin widens as her body stills in anticipation. She is doing a terrible job of appearing indifferent. "Who do you think she is?" I ask.
Her eyes latch onto mine. "How should I know?"
"You are jealous!"
"I trust that Rheanon isn’t someone I should be wary of, although I am curious about this new relationship you’ve forged. Oh—the 'Grandma' is Rheanon’s grandmother," she says, pulling her brows together. "Do you have a sibling I’m not aware of?"
"I told you I was my mom’s only child."
She presses her lips together, nodding. "I recall that."
"I’m addressing the shaman as 'Grandma,' and Rheanon is the caregiver I employed to look after her."
"I wasn’t jealous," Hermione insists after a brief pause, digesting the information.
"You were. And if you were jealous..."
"I do not doubt your fidelity, Aiden. You may have been the ultimate ladies' man, but..." She gestures to herself. "I handle the reins now. You can't let me down."
"Your Ladyship... I am forever at your service," I say, giving a dramatic bow. "I belong solely to you and no one else."
"Good. How are we celebrating the New Year? Your father’s? Raymond’s?"
"Did you want a party? I was thinking just the two of us."
"Every break we’ve had has been dedicated to just us. We should mingle, too."
"I’m awed, Hermione Jade Mendes, that you of all people would advocate for a get-together." I hold my chest in mock surprise.
"Don’t be ridiculous. I have friends."
"You had Xavier and May," I note. She pouts with a dismissive eye roll. "Is your dad on the guest list?"
"No," she answers without flinching.
"Still hung up on your argument with your mom?"
"It’s bad luck to converse over bad vibes on a New Year," she says, beginning to leave as I choke back a laugh.
"Hermione!" I call out. I agreeably admit that Ezra Watson Pierce is "bad vibes," but the way Hermione said it leaves me amused.
We spend the New Year inviting available family and friends over: my dad, Raymond, Neil, and a few others. Since Xavier is out of state and Dr. May is celebrating with her own family, Hermione’s social circle is small, so my guests effectively become hers.
Dad essentially accepted my invitation to avoid spending time with Lachlan; to be honest, it is clearly lonely in that house with Beatrice arrested and his rift with Lachlan widening.
The celebration progresses with plenty of merrymaking at the location Hermione and I chose for the event.
Time moves on from our days of indulgence to the time to get serious with work again.
"Good morning, sir," Neil greets me as I arrive on the first day of the new year.
With the holidays behind me, I am set to tackle the challenges ahead and make headway.
Neil still bubbles with New Year energy as he takes my bag and follows me into my new office. As my personal secretary, his office has been upgraded too, and he never stops raving about how much more pleasant the upgrade is compared to his former workspace.
"I’m capable of carrying my own bag, Neil. Don’t make it weird."
"The Group Chairman himself—"
"Neil. Stop buzzing about my title. I’m already swollen with pride; don’t make me explode."
"Alright. I’ll quit the theatrics."
"Thank you," I say, gesturing with my eyes for him to head to his own office before I continue into mine.
I love this new, playful side of Neil, especially compared to his past self, who always hid his exhaustion under a vibrant personality.
We’ve come a long way, Aiden, I think to myself, a complacent smile forming on my lips.
As I settle behind my desk, a notification beeps on my phone. My body goes on alert at once as I check the source of the message.
Ghost.
They have forwarded an audio file to me, followed by the words: Mission accomplished.