Chapter 37

Chapter 37
OLIVIA

I reached for my phone on the bedside table and checked the time.

7:00 AM.

Ryan should still be at home.

That thought came into my head before I could stop it, and I frowned slightly, pressing my lips together. 

I told myself not to care. I reminded myself that I had already decided I wasn’t going to talk to him today. I was going to give him the same silent treatment he had been giving me for days now, acting like my presence didn’t matter, like I wasn’t even there.

I pushed myself up from the bed, my body feeling heavy as my feet touched the floor. 

I  stood there for a few seconds, rubbing my arms, then walked out of my room and headed downstairs, my steps slow but steady, my mind already preparing itself for whatever mood he would be in.

As I got to the bottom of the stairs, one of the servants noticed me immediately.

“Good morning, ma,” she said softly, bowing her head a little.

Another servant echoed the greeting from the other side of the room. “Good morning, ma.”

“Good morning,” I replied, my voice low, my eyes already scanning the house.

The living room was empty.

No Ryan.

My heart sank a little, even though I told myself it shouldn’t. I walked further in, my eyes moving to the dining area, and that was when I saw the plates neatly arranged on one side of the table. A cup sat there too, with a faint coffee stain at the bottom. The smell of food still lingered in the air, fresh but already fading.

He had already eaten.

He had already left.

My fingers curled slowly at my sides, my jaw tightening as I stood there for a moment, staring at the table like it had personally offended me. 

One of the servants passed by again, greeting me once more before heading into the kitchen, and I could feel their eyes on me.

I didn’t ask any questions.

I didn’t want to hear anyone say, He left early or He had a meeting. I didn’t want to know. My chest felt tight, my throat dry, and I turned around sharply, heading back toward the stairs.

As I climbed, my foot hit each step harder than it needed to. My leg stomped without control, my frustration spilling out in every movement. I didn’t care if they heard me. I didn’t care if they were watching.

When I reached my room, I pushed the door open and shut it behind me, leaning against it as soon as it closed. My head fell back, my eyes squeezing shut as I took a deep breath that didn’t seem to help at all. Slowly, my knees bent, and I slid down until I was sitting on the floor, my arms wrapping around myself.

I buried my face in my knees, my shoulders shaking as I cried, my chest aching with the weight of everything I hadn’t said and everything he hadn’t explained. 

I felt stupid for expecting him to still be around, stupid for hoping he might look at me and say something, anything, that would make things make sense.

My phone buzzed, startling me slightly.

I sniffed and wiped my face with the back of my hand before standing up and walking to the bed. When I saw my dad’s name on the screen, my heart softened instantly, and before I could think too much, I answered.

“Hello, Daddy,” I said, my voice already warmer.

“My baby,” he replied, and just hearing his voice made my lips curve into a small smile. “How are you this morning?”

I sat on the bed, pulling my legs up, hugging a pillow to my chest. “I’m okay,” I said, and this time, I meant it a little. “How are you? How is work?”

He asked me if I was being treated well, if everything was okay, and I nodded even though he couldn’t see me, telling him yes, that everything was fine. As he spoke, I found myself smiling more, my body relaxing, my shoulders dropping as the comfort of his voice wrapped around me.

“I miss you,” he said softly.

My chest tightened again, but this time in a good way. “I miss you too, Daddy,” I said quickly. “So much.”

He chuckled lightly, then told me he might be able to come and visit in about two months. The moment he said it, I gasped, sitting up straighter on the bed.

“Two months?” I exclaimed. “That’s too long.”

He laughed properly now, telling me time would pass quickly and that I should be patient. I pouted even though he couldn’t see me, telling him it wasn’t fair, that I wanted him to come sooner. We talked a little longer, about small things, about how he was eating, about work, about home, and I held onto every word like I didn’t want the call to end.

When we finally said goodbye and the call ended, I stared at my phone for a while, a soft smile still on my face.

Then reality crept back in.

I sighed, stood up, and walked into the bathroom to take my bath. The water ran over my skin as I washed slowly, my thoughts drifting again, and by the time I stepped out and wrapped a towel around myself, I had already made up my mind.

I was going to work.

I wasn’t going to let whatever Ryan was doing get to me. I would busy myself with work, fill my head with meetings and files and tasks so there would be no space left for him.

I dressed up neatly, skipped breakfast without even looking at the dining table again, and walked downstairs. The driver greeted me politely and opened the car door. I nodded and got in, staring out the window during the drive, watching the city move past while my reflection stared back at me, quiet and thoughtful.

When we arrived at the company, I stepped out of the car, adjusted my bag, and walked inside.

Not long after, I was told there was another meeting ongoing. I paused for a moment, my shoulders sagging slightly, my lips pressing together.

Another meeting again.

I haven’t gotten over the pain of the last meeting and another one?

“Hello, Olivia.”  I turned around and was shocked to see the person who just called my attention,