Sweet Nothing

IX - The Weight Of Her Burdens

An uncomfortable silence hung heavily between Michelle and the man who was now identified as her father. Dennis Dee stands as the formidable figure behind the nation's largest mall franchise, his family ranking among the elite top 10 billionaires. Anntonia was after his support for her foundation. Caught in the middle of their chilly exchange, she awkwardly extracted herself from Irfan's grip. Sensing the shift in dynamics, Irfan took a tentative step back, his earlier bravado melting away.

Rhian, always quick to read the room, stepped in with a warm smile to diffuse the tension. Extending her hand in a friendly gesture, she approached Michelle's father. "Uncle, what a delightful surprise to see you here," she remarked, her tone balanced with friendliness and composure.

Acknowledging Rhian's presence with a nod, Michelle's father replied with measured words. "Rhian, it's good to see you," he said, his voice retaining a hint of formality. "Although I must admit, I'm more surprised to see my daughter attending this event."

Michelle, feeling the weight of her father's words, met his gaze with a steely resolve. "If I had known you'd be here, I would've chosen to skip," she stated firmly.

Anntonia, recognizing the delicate nature of the situation, attempted to intervene. "Michelle," she began, her voice gentle yet urgent.

The barista who was having a staring contest against her father finally darted her gaze towards Anntonia. But the presence of Irfan at her side only served as a painful reminder of yet another letdown.

"In fact, there's no reason for me to stay here any longer," with that, she turned and exited the venue, leaving a trail of awkward tension in her wake.

***

The whoosh of the cold night air slapped Anntonia in the face as she exited her car on the way to her house. Her hurried pace a stark contrast to the controlled atmosphere back at the fundraiser. Glancing back, she saw Irfan trailing behind, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Anntonia, wait!" Irfan exclaimed, catching up. "What is this all about? Aren't you happy to see me?"

"I specifically asked for space away from you!"

"I don't get it! You were complaining about our lack of time together and the moment I show up--"

"Irfan," she began, her voice softer than her earlier outburst, "That's part of the problem. Yes I was complaining about not having enough time with you. But those complaints... they were also a cry for help, a different kind of help than I realized."

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice laced with apprehension.

"It's not just about our schedules," she explained, her voice tinged with sadness. "It's about us... or rather, the lack of 'us'."

"Lack of 'us'?" the guy urged her to continue.

Anntonia took a shaky breath. "We fit together comfortably, sure. But when was the last time we really connected, Irfan? When was the last time we had a conversation that left us breathless, excited about the future we were building together?"

Irfan opened his mouth to protest, but Anntonia held up a hand, her voice firm despite the tremor in her heart. "Hear me out, please. This isn't about blaming anyone. I care about you, but lately, I feel like our needs just aren't aligning."

She paused, searching for the right words. "Maybe I haven't been the best at communicating, but I crave a deeper understanding, you know?"

"You make it seem like I don't support you."

"I need someone who doesn't just say they're there for me, but actively shows it through their actions."

A tear escaped, tracing a glistening path down her cheek. "It's not that you don't support me, but sometimes support feels a bit...distant. I yearn for a partner who's there in the trenches with me, celebrating the victories and holding my hand through the setbacks. Someone who can see the fire in my soul and fan the flames, not just watch them flicker."