Suffering the consequences

**STEVEN WOLKER’S POV**

"Understand once and for all that you've lost!" Thanking, still stunned, I turn away. People pass by me, but I can't even manage to sidestep, bumping into each one. I hear my name being called two or three times, but I completely ignore it. I would recognize it immediately if it were her voice, but otherwise, it's irrelevant to me.

I drive like a maniac, getting into my car and accelerating as if I want to vent all the frustration. I get cursed at for some overtaking, but I completely ignore it. Finally, I arrived at the house where I lived with Sophie. When I stop in front, it feels like I'm returning in time.

I look at the door, remembering when I used to stand in that same spot. I would open the door eagerly to see her walk through the house, often barefoot. It always made my heart race, but I had grown accustomed to it.

"Come back, for God's sake..." I whisper as if it would reach wherever she might be. I enter the place, looking around, and silence fills the air. The employee appears, and she seems saddened.

"Sir, I've been waiting for someone to show up. I don't know if I should continue here because the house is..." she avoids finishing.

"Empty!" I sigh. "I know. I want you to continue; I will return, and I hope that one day Sophie can do the same."

She becomes a little calmer and leaves. Besides her, there were other employees she supervised as a housekeeper, but on that morning, only she prevailed there.

I go to the master bedroom and am surprised to see many of her things there. I don't know if she left them hoping to return or in the wrong way, just to not take anything from her life with me. I prefer to believe in the former hypothesis. So, I looked around; in the closet, there was a black dress she loved to wear to work. I take it to my nose, bury myself in the fabric, and close my eyes as I still smell her delightful scent. Her scent still lingered in the air.

It would be much better to feel her presence. I didn't want to run away and deal with my choices anymore. I knew where she had left the teddy bear and a pendant I had given her in the park, but when I went there, there was nothing there, a sign that she had taken them with her.

I also noticed on one of the days I was there that she left a small white shoe that would belong to our son, neither on the vanity. I go to it, open the drawers, and nothing. She took them. I lean my hands on the furniture and look in the mirror before me, seeing the most foolish man in the world.

"Sir, your brother is downstairs," the employee interrupts my trance.

I go down to the living room; Leon is there, looking at the details of the house, and when he notices my arrival, he stops immediately.

"You can't stay here alone; you left the company like a madman. Try to live your life differently, man."

"I don't want anyone's opinion. I've caused enough trouble."

"Steven, don't be stubborn!"

"I deserve what I'm going through; leave me alone."

I speak louder now; I didn't want to hear anyone else. I turn away and go upstairs again, hoping he understood the message.

An hour later, it was my grandmother's turn to come there, insisting I return home. She claims she didn't want me to be alone while going through so much, but with her, I try to be as patient as possible, venting and explaining that I would live my hell alone because I had involved too many people in this story. She insisted several times, but seeing it would be useless, she said goodbye, worried.

I spent the afternoon there feeling disoriented, trying to focus on work. I spent all the time in the office, burying myself in work and keeping my mind fixed on something. It worked very little, but I disconnected for a few minutes.

My phone rings, and I answer immediately when I see the unknown number. I'm surprised it's the partner; Mr. Miller was calling, and I remember his son was involved in Sophie's disappearance; he might bring some news.

***"Wolker, can we schedule a time to talk? It can be informal."

"Sure, I need that after all. How about at a bar we used to frequent? The sooner, the better. Can it be now?" I suggest.

***"That's fine by me. Send me the location. See you soon!"

He hangs up, and I do as he asked. I would go right away; I couldn't live with the anxiety and the thought of knowing about my girl and how much I missed her.

_____________________

The bar was where I met Sophie, drowning her sorrows over a betrayal, and I was lost, not knowing how to become the company president. I remember our hot night of sex, and that hurt even more. I head towards the counter and settle in. I order a whiskey, as it's my favorite drink, and with my mind elsewhere, recalling some things in that same place, I wait.

But it didn't take long before I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked back to see the elegant and stylish man with slightly graying hair. His demeanor resembled that of his son, the scoundrel. I was trying hard not to mix things up.

"Hello, Steven, good to see you again!"

"If the occasion had another reason, I would say the same," I respond in a sarcastic and playful manner.

We laugh, and each takes their place. He ordered a different drink from mine, and I remained silent because I didn't even know how to start.

"I'm sorry I can't work with you; your company is amazing, but you know we have our touches, each with its peculiarity," he explains.

"I don't know my peculiarity, but I understand. We'll formalize this!"

I tried my hardest to wait for him to say something but couldn't. I need to know something, however minimal it may be.

"Where's your son?" I ask, looking at him directly.

"Liam's life is not my concern, Steven; he's a grown man."

Nothing I ask or insist on knowing will help, so I prefer to keep quiet. Going through repeatedly frustrated attempts takes a toll on my emotions, and only now did I truly understand what Sophie went through all this time.

"Your planning supervisor and the woman who pretended to be married were great; I liked her projects."

I lower my head, looking at the rim of the glass. I wanted to tell him everything. How everything happened, and for a moment, I didn't pretend to be married; I loved her with all my strength, but I was just too tired.

"She's wonderful. Wherever she is!"

He becomes pensive, finishes his last drink, and then extends his hand to me. I look at it and then shake his hand firmly.

"I hope to work with you again when you know what true love is. The meaning of true love, Steven. It's cliché, but important."

He smiles and then leaves. His words touch me in a way that makes me stay there for a while longer to drink. When I return home, I'll spend my time agonizing, looking at the corners of that house.