Chapter 9 I WANT TO LIVE

Chapter 9 I WANT TO LIVE
IRIS
2 DAYS BEFORE THE ACCIDENT

I never felt comfortable spending extravagantly regardless of how much my father encouraged me to do so.

The expensive bags, the shoes, clothes, even food, that came with the title of being the daughter of such a wealthy man bothered me so much. Now, as I stared at myself in the mirror of my hotel room, looking at my reflection that looked nothing like the only parent I ever knew, I wondered if it was fortunate or unfortunate that I’d been so unlike other rich heiresses.

Fortunate because even though Collin had blocked all my cards, I’d a small fortune I accrued from years of endlessly spending so sparingly, despite my father’s generous allowances.

Unfortunate because I was pathetic. I always felt like someone was going to take what I had even after decades of answering the Aston’s last name. I remember the first time that I’d been offered a plate of food the day my mother had unceremoniously dropped me off and I’d gobbled it off so fast, scared that someone would take it away eventually.

Father had watched me for so long and even though he turned his head quickly, I saw his eyes water.

I wondered what he saw. A malnourished child, underfed because her druggie mother forgot she needed food.

A starved child, void of love as a result of a prickly model mother.

For as long as I could remember, Sofia had always blamed me for every cloth that she never could fit into, cursed me for every brand that dropped her, bemoaned about how her biggest mistake was not aborting me because the doctor warned that she might have lost her life. Sometimes, she tells me that she wished she’d rather died.

I blamed her a lot growing up too. I told myself that if she loved me more, I’d have been more confident, I’d have not fallen into the laps of the first man that paid me the slightest attention without any reason, perhaps if she had hugged me even once, it wouldn’t feel like there was a permanent inscription on my head that told people that I was easy prey, innocent and eager for affection.

But as I stood under the shower faucet fully clothed and watched as the water that slowly becomes red with the blood of my unborn child drained, I wondered if this child blamed me too.

I always thought I lost my other children because of Collin’s violent behavior. I thought he was the problem. To be fair, he wasn’t innocent either. He had hit me so many times and left me in the pool of blood enough for me not to be scared when I’d woken up feeling the telltale pain and regardless of my strong denial, I knew before I went to the bathroom that I’d lost the child, but perhaps I was guilty too.

For the first time I wondered if Margaret was right. If perhaps Collin wasn’t the only issue, but the children know better than to stay, sensing how worthless I am. What was on the tip of my tongue to say when I’d been called beautiful by Nicholas days ago was to call him a liar and reaffirmed all Collin’s opinion of me. Useless, stupid, disgusting…

How could a woman who had almost nothing, bring a child into this world.

No self esteem.

No worth.

No resilience.

Even now, I was tempted to just go back to Collin and grovel. Giving in felt easier.

Regardless of what he had done… I still flirted with the idea. I was more familiar with being at his beck and call than this…

My tummy pinched with so much pain almost rebelling at my stupidity.

I doubled over in pure agony, collapsing on the floor, my knee on my chest as I whispered sorry over and over again, to the child that never had the chance to see the world.

A child who had been given to the most incapable mother.

Sorry.

Sorry. 

I’m sorry.

I stayed under the shower for a long time.

DAY OF THE ACCIDENT

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Astor but you cannot bring any action against your husband for trying to sell your father’s company without your knowledge or try to stop the sale from happening. You handed all your rights over to him so he can make independent decisions on your behalf.”

“Can you discuss it with him? Negotiate? That seems like the best course of action for you, but legally? You have no case.”

“How about shares? Do you have a significant amount of shares that can be used to flip the table? Perhaps an internal shareholders meeting will give you a better result than legally pursuing his action as you willingly handed your rights to him, which naturally translates to waiving your right to take any action regarding how he conducts the affairs of the company.”

I was just coming out of the sixth law firm I’d stepped into as I tucked my coat closer to my body and adjusted the scarf around my neck, trying not to cry as they’d all basically told me I could do nothing for Aston Cosmetics.

My phone rang and I sighed. I’d only turned it on this morning, sure that by now Collin’s influx of hysterical messages and calls would have died down by now. I put my hand in my coat pocket and pulled it out, frowning when I noticed that it was a call from an unknown number.

“Hello.” A puff of white escaped my mouth as I spoke. It was miserably cold, and the boots I’d bought that morning struggled for grip on the slushy brown mess along the sidewalk.

“Iris.”

One word and I could already tell who was on the phone. I wondered if he knew how much I liked hearing him say my name.

“Nicholas,” I breathed out. 

I’d spent the past few days thinking about my conversation with him and what he had readily agreed to. I had been merely clutching at the end of a straw like a helpless drowning man when I’d asked him to try to delay acquiring Aston Cosmetics, spurred both by how much I’d overestimated my resources and the sheer refusal to admit that I’d aided in ruining my father’s legacy, I’d been more surprised that he had agreed. 

But now, I could tell that he was just being kind, giving me time to accept what I’d already known even back then in his car.

Aston Cosmetics was no more.

“I was…” we both started.

He laughed and it sounded almost bashful, making me blink as fresh powder of snow fell on my eyebrow, sure that I’d heard wrongly.

“Go first.” He said.

“I think you should go ahead__”

“Don’t.” he breathed out. “It’s not even five days yet.”

“It’s no use,” I whispered with a sad smile admitting what we both knew. “Another day wouldn’t make a difference.”

“Let’s talk. Where are you?” 

I knew he meant my location but as I looked around the busy street of Manhattan with different people in oversized coats, trudging about, busy, driven with purpose… all that I could exhale out was. “Lost.”

“Lost?” He whispered.

“Where do I go from here?” I mumbled out my first fear. I’d quickly lodged into a hotel with my savings the moment I had alighted from his car that day, chasing a naive hope that I would be able to turn the tables on Scarlett and Collin. I’d felt so betrayed, so hurt, almost like someone put a chainsaw to my heart.

It made my knees weak that regardless of my battered heart they weren’t liable for anything.

That somehow they were innocent.

It still doesn’t sound right.

“Iris,” Nicholas said. He sounded worried.

“I was just joking,” I mumbled. I wasn’t. But I didn’t feel like expressing what I meant either.

“Where are you? I’d come and pick you. Let’s have coffee.”

I looked at the snow falling and as if suddenly realizing how cold I was, not just because of the weather but because an intrinsic part of me was accepting how lonely I truly was as I made a trek from the firm to the street, my cheeks flushed with cold, my head covered with a beanie and yet I still shook.

I parted my lips. “Coffee sounds nice.”

My phone beeped. 

You should have lived out a quiet, miserable existence and perhaps you might have been able to keep your life.

Goodbye, Iris. Let’s not do this again if there is a next life. It was excruciating torture acting like I didn’t detest you.

Big Sister.

I frowned, confused by the cryptic tone of Scarlett’s message—and by the ridiculous name I’d saved her under. Big Sister? 

I should change that.

A low rumble rose behind me. I glanced up. A trailer.

I was still on the sidewalk, but it was veering toward me.

For a heartbeat, everything froze. 

I recognized the driver—the employee who had stood out earlier, even in that expensive suit.

Right now, in a dirty baseball cap, he fitted right in. He was smirking, his eyes wild with excitement.

The world snapped back into motion as the truck slammed into me.

Goodbye…

Scarlett’s message finally made sense as I lay there bleeding out.

My last thought before the darkness swallowed me was simple and desperate: I want to live. Please. I want to live.