34. Evie

thirty-four

Maxwell shifted in his chair beside me as we watched a drone simulation in the quality control laboratory.

It was one of the few times I actually got to work with Maxwell.

The code for the drones was mostly completed, so there wasn’t any need to review anything. But now they were working on a few final codes and needed my attention. I was trying to give it to them.

I watched—forced myself to watch—the simulation as it played.

This time, it was different from the last. The drone was performing a civilian evacuation.

It was a new improvement. Tall, animated buildings, narrow streets, and a central designated area hummed, signifying the evacuation zone in front of me.

Animated civilians in bright red clothing were spread across the digital area. Some were clustered together, while others were everywhere.

It was the aftermath of an explosion.

As the drone guided civilians from the scene of chaos to the designated area, I checked for alignment with evacuation protocols.

According to the notepad before me, there were evacuation protocols the drone had to follow to be considered reliable.

Movement. The drone’s movement seemed coordinated. The next was cues. It used a bright red light to guide the civilians to safety. The third was obstacles. It avoided collision and actually led the civilians to safety.

But there was one thing out of the books.

The drone somehow lacked urgency. “Urgency.” I turned to Maxwell, and the other three team members turned to me.

The drone”s response to the panicked crowd seems a bit calculated.

“Calculated?” Maxwell asked.

“Yes, Maxwell. All the other features are just perfect, but this drone looks like it lacks urgency, which in the end makes it look like we’re prioritizing something else aside from the primary objective.”

John, a blonde-haired man, sighed. “I think I noticed that too. It must be a glitch in the decision-making algorithm.”

The other two nodded.

“I”ll report to the software development team. The meeting has ended.”

I was relieved when all five of us rose. I immediately moved to hurry out when Maxwell called me.

“Great job,” he smiled. “You have a keen eye for detail.”

I gave a small smile. “Thank you, Maxwell.”

He nodded, and I exited the lab.

When I entered the hallway, I inhaled a deep breath, and my stomach instantly dropped at the thought that I had to report the outcome of the meeting to Ethan.

Ethan had been even more closed off. He barely addressed me, whether as his secretary, nanny, or myself.

It yanked my stomach in knots— made me sick to my guts. I was sick— tired of everything.

I never thought I”d say this, but maybe it was inevitable.

I wanted to go home, to leave it all and bask in the abode of my own home—to bask in the warmth of Dad’s arm.

I didn”t want to be this miserable anymore. I couldn”t be. I was tired of looking out for people and not getting the same energy in return.

Instead of heading to Ethan’s office, I headed to mine first. When I was in my space, I collapsed into my chair, all kinds of emotions rising in me.

I stayed because of Sophie, and whether or not I wanted to admit it, I stayed because of him, too. Helping Sophie was helping him.

But was I helping myself? Was I helping my relationship with Dad? Why was I doing something for another to my own detriment?

Perhaps because it was more than just this. It was my dream, my mother’s dream, too.

But why was it so complicated?

I was instantly plunged to recall Emma’s words.

Some things are worth fighting for, Evie.There”s a reason you finally told me all this. It”s because you”re confused. Confusion only happens when you”re torn between two things, Evie. I think you”re torn between the guilt that comes with your Dad and something else that comes with your boss.

What things were worth fighting for?

And if I fought, would it be for myself? Sophie? Or him? Or was I already fighting?

If I fought, would it be alone?

“What do you feel for him? Love? Desire? Lust?”

The only thing I felt for him right now was anger. He never failed to tell me how grateful he was that I was helping Sophie, but his actions were the complete opposite.

Fuck this. Fuck it all.

I couldn”t help the frustrated tears that rolled down my cheeks.

A scream threatened to leave my lips. I wanted to scream…. Let it all out.

Instinctively, I placed my hand over my mouth to reduce my sobs, then found my phone through tear-filled vision.

I dialed Dad’s number for the umpteenth time in the past few days.

I brought the phone to my ear, hoping that he would pick up.

He couldn”t leave me this way. Mom would be mad at him for leaving me. He couldn’t —

“Hello.”

A breath of shock strained my ribs. “Dad… Dad.” I rushed out, clutching the phone tighter to my ear.

“Evie.” His voice was tight with many things. Disappointment was one I could sense the most.

Bringing my palm to wipe my face, I sniffed. “How are you?”

“As fine as I can be.”

From the strain in his voice, I knew it wasn”t easy for him to live this way, too— with our strained relationship.

“You know, I got quite a huge contract. It was from an old client. And the project has kicked off.”

My eyes widened in utmost surprise. Dad got a huge contract?

My chest brimmed with happiness. All my life, I’d waited for this day— the day the universe would finally reward him for his hard work.

“When did this happen?”

“A few days before…” he trailed. I figured his next words. “… before I arrived at the mansion.”

My heart dropped.

“It was one of those things I wanted to tell you. I wanted to share the news with you in person.”

The tears started to fall freely again.

“I betrayed your trust in the worst way possible. I wish I could take it back,” I swallowed.

He sighed. “I”m still disappointed in you.”

“Dad, please,” I pleaded desperately. “I ju—”

“Your mother and I always took pride in you. We took pride in our daughter and the standard with which we raised her. I don”t understand you anymore. What you did—”

“You”re a psychologist, Evie. Can”t you see that it”s useless? You have so much to achieve before you. Why waste your time on something like this… on him?”

“I know Ethan. He has a history with girls. He has a way of making them feel special before using and tossing them in the trash.”

I winced, something breaking inside of me. It was the reality I was facing now— the same thing I faced with Stephen.

Bile rose in my throat.

“Dad, I just… I”m asking for a chance to rebuild the trust I broke.”

“You had that chance when I asked you to come back to Minnesota, Evie.”

His voice softened. “You still have that chance.”

“Now, if you”ll excuse me. I”m running late for a meeting.”

Before I had the chance to say anything, he ended the call.

A part of me was relieved. It felt good to know that Dad still had space for me. For us to mend things...

And this time, I wouldn”t let anything stand in the way. Not Ethan… not Sophie. Perhaps it was time to be selfish.

Ignoring the obvious tug in my heart, I clenched my fist, stood up, and marched to his office.

I would tender my resignation for both jobs… continue my volunteering experience elsewhere, and live life just as it was before him.

I knocked on his door. When he didn”t answer, I knocked again. There still was no response, and I knocked three more times.

I furrowed my brows. Even though he ignored me, he didn”t ignore my knocks.

Shaking my head, I pushed past the door and released a little gasp when I took in his form.

He was on the floor, legs spread out before him, suit yanked to a corner of his office, and the first three buttons of his shirt undone.

But that wasn”t what baffled me.

What did, was the half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand which content seemed to have trailed down his chest. The yellow stain was visible against his white long- sleeved shirt.

He hadn”t noticed me as his head was lowered. His chin was tucked to his chest and his hair was unusually messy.

All other missions were temporarily abolished as I walked into the office.

“Sir?” I swallowed. He didn”t respond.

Was he drunk? In the office?

I quickly reached him, lowering myself to nudge his shoulder. Slowly, he lifted his head to stare at me.

“I”m sorry,” he slurred.

I held my breath. I didn”t know whether it was from the stench of alcohol or how disheveled he looked. But bile rose in my throat again.

I’d never seen him this way. But I hated it. I hated his broken demeanor.

His shoulders shook in a sob, but his eyes were dry. He was drunk. I wondered why.

“What’s wrong?” My voice was a low whisper.

He attempted to stand but failed woefully.

How drunk was he?

I quickly tugged the bottle from his hand.

“It”s… it”s... I”m sorry, Evie. I shouldn”t have…”

I clasped my fingers together when I felt the urge to pull him in for a hug. A fool, that”s what I was.

“That night, I did it… I messed with it now, they... I’m going to—”

His words were jumbled and slurred.

Before I could think, he forced himself to his side.

I gasped when he gently cupped the side of my chin. When I held his orbs, they were nothing but drunk.

Abruptly, his hand dropped to the side. Then he leaned his forehead on my chest.

“W- what...” I trailed.

“Dawson… helped too... He… there… long time and I—”

I struggled to make sense of his talk.

“I”m sor...” he hiccupped. “…rryyyyy.”

This was weird. Very weird.

So I just stayed there— with his head now on my shoulder—confused for the longest time.

My plan for resignation would have to wait… just a little longer.