Chasing

“Yes sir. I had to bring it here myself because I knew you’d be interested in it.”

Of course, I feel a streak of interest and intrigue for the first time in the past week. This is because I have been trying to contact the Hanson Group for years now. I have sent emails multiple times asking for a meeting for a potential partnership between the conglomerate and my own company.

The Group owns many businesses and branches in almost every sector. The shopping mall is the biggest in the entire country and as the head of a fashion company, my goal has always been to have a spot in the Hanson’s group shopping mall for the products from my company or perhaps form an even bigger partnership with their branch that also produces high quality fashion

wears.

I never got a response to those emails and I was already close to giving up after all these years. Getting an invite to a charity gala organized by that group is a step closer to achieving my goals. It means I have finally been recognized as a potential business partner.

However, the feeling of excitement doesn’t last for more than a few seconds. I toss the invitation back on the table. Peter seems surprised by my reaction.

“Should I begin preparations for the gala sir? It’s in two weeks from now.”

I shake my head, “That won’t be necessary, I won’t be attending.”

“But sir, you have been looking for an opportunity to contact them for a long time now. This is your chance.” Peter voices his concern but I am already past listening.

“Thank you for bringing this, Peter but you can leave now.”

He doesn’t argue anymore and just bows before walking back out the door.

Beverly walks in right after like she’s been waiting at the door all along. My suspicions are confirmed when she picks up the invitation on the table. She must have been listening to my discussion with Peter.

Beverly has been here for the past one week and practically acts like we both own the house now. Can I blame her though? My mother literally cleared out Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

my late wife’s room just to make space for her. My mother will move heaven and earth for Beverly if that’s what Beverly wants and the only line she hasn’t crossed is asking us to share a room.

“Oh my God, Kian. You can’t miss this opportunity.” She says, eyes shining brightly as she reads through the invite. She has always been the kind of person who derives so much pleasure in going to dinners and classy events like this and back then I never cared, I loved her way. But it annoys me now that she is smiling. It annoys me that she dares to smile when I am grieving.

“You shouldn’t eavesdrop on my discussions, Beverly.” Is all I say and she rolls her eyes, placing a hand on her small bump.

1 only came here to check on you since you won’t leave your study and I heard that by chance. What is going on with you Kian? Are you really going to miss the opportunity to work with a powerful and multi millionaire group?”

I sigh, my frustration growing.

“This is my business, Beverly, not yours. So what if I don’t want to go?”

She scoffs, “I can’t believe you right now, Kian. I can’t believe what has become of you. The man I loved was a fearless businessman who will always show up no matter what. You didn’t get to where you are today because of your dead wife and you want to lose it all because of her?”

“Beverly..” I warn, not liking the tone her voice was taking and the way she speaks of Leslie.

“What? It’s the truth! You sit here and mop all day, forgetting the things that truly matter. Like the fact that I am carrying your child. Don’t act like you really cared about her when you treated her like shit when she was alive. Let the dead be.”

She’s practically fuming at the last word. She doesn’t wait for my response and just tosses the invitation card back on my table and storms out.

She leaves me speechless as her words cut deeply mostly because she was right. I never treated Leslie well and that even adds to my guilt because now I feel like I don’t deserve to mourn her. I don’t deserve to grieve for her when I

never cared if she was hurting or happy or lonely.

I stare at the invite long and hard before making the decision to prepare for the gala. Perhaps, it really is high time I let the dead be.