Healing Myself

Soft and tortured

Mr. Blackbourne's POV

I get out of my car and shut its door gently before smoothening my maroon tie and adjusting the barely there rumpleness of my suit.

Silently, I walk towards the front door of the Anderson team's cabin, files in hand. Delivering sharp knocks on their door at random intervals, I wait for it to open. My back remains straight, my posture slightly stiff, eyes subtly darting to every inch of the property.

This is who I am. Owen Blackbourne. Perfection is, as Sean would say, my 'thing'. I cannot say I disagree; my business-like clothing gives me a sense of control in this otherwise chaotic world.

Alertness is like another limb for me. I could not imagine going through daily activities without being alert all the time. I simply detest the idea of being caught off guard. It is meddlesome to the autonomy I have worked so hard to achieve.

The door opens to reveal the face of, "Do not, for the love of God, call me anything but my first name, Owen." I wince at the use of my own forename and relieve an irritated sigh.

"Mr.-", hazel eyes glare toward me and I release another sigh before pronouncing the man's given name. "Liam."

Liam grins at me and tells me to, "Come in. I was just giving the crib some finishing touches so it'll take me a while. Why don't you hang out in the living until then?"

By the time he has come to an end with his phrase, I am standing in the living room and Liam is in the kitchen, a part of which is visible from the room I'm currently in. I can see him getting a glass from the cabinet. He opens the door of the refrigerator and turns around to look at me, "Water, juice?" He questions.

"Water is fine. Normal." I answer. I don't want him running around for the sake of hospitality. Liam was working on a project and the sooner he completes it, the sooner I can explain to him the information in the files and leave.

After Liam has set the glass of water in front of me and is gone, I take a seat on the long, brown couch and look around. There are a lot of pictures of each of the team members spread around. Some on the mantel, others in frames on the walls.

There have been quite a number of times when I have wanted to question the nature of their peculiar relationship. That of the four dogs of the team being romantically involved with the only bird on the team.

I have been, and still am, genuinely curious about how it works exactly; but I don't want to be another one of those insensitive persons who only ask such intimate questions for 'fun' by giving voice to my queries. In the end, if they are happy together and it works for them, who am I to question?

While pondering over this topic, I have consumed half of the water. I'm about to take out my phone to have a look at the stock market when I hear a cry coming from somewhere inside the house.

Quickly, but silently, I walk toward the source of the sound, worried that someone might have been injured. I come to a stop in front of Lily's office. I would address her by her surname but she is married to four men and unfortunately, I'm not aware of her maiden name.

The door to the office is ajar and I try to get a glimpse of the inside. I do not want to be an interloper but the sound of the cry has me worried. There really isn't much I would be able to see from the slight opening but I try anyway.

A peek inside and I register two people sitting on a couch on the other end of the big room. One of them is Lily, her blonde hair swept to one side. It is the young lady beside her though, who enthralls me.

She's wearing one of those short sweaters that seem to be in fashion nowadays in the shade of lilac, along with a white skirt ending slightly above her knees. Her dainty hands are playing with the pendant of her necklace.

Her features, even from far away, I can tell are enchanting. However, as enchanted as they are, they are also pained. She blinks her eyes several times before turning to Lily.

"You don't think I know that?" Her voice is as soft as it is tortured. Lily cautiously places her hand on her shoulder as the girl continues, "My-my brain knows Lily, but my heart doesn’t. I can’t help but think about the what ifs. What if we hadn’t left early? What if we hadn’t gone at all? What if-”

I listen to the sound of approaching footsteps and quickly walk back to the living room. Sneaking is really the older Mr. Taylor's speciality, and not mine, because as I am trying to be silent, I am not quick enough so I turn toward the way to the office again. Liam comes from the side and walks toward me.

“What are you doing in the middle of the hallway?” He asks in a low voice. My pitch of voice is just as low as his when I answer, so as not to disturb the two ladies in the office. “I heard a cry from the inside and it had me concerned. I wanted to make sure everyone was okay.”

He gives me a reassuring smile. “Everyone’s fine.” I decide that a little prying won’t do me any harm so I ask him, “Is Lily entertaining a client?”.

“A client who is also a friend." He answers in a somewhat fond voice, which makes me question the identity of the beautiful young lady even more.

"Now why don't we go to the living and you tell me about those files?”

“Of course, Liam.”

And for the next hour I tell him everything he needs to know, my mind reeling with thoughts of the girl inside Lily’s office.

•••••