Mrs. Archer Xavier (REWRITING)

Chapter Three

The One With Yellow Walls and The One With White Walls

♔ ♛

Apparently, my family couldn't even bother to pick me up. They send a driver for me. They send a stranger to pick up the sister and daughter they haven't seen for years? But then again, I couldn't expect any more from Maxwell James Avery.

I sit quietly at the back of the vehicle, trying to remember the streets and buildings we pass by. Nothing really comes to mind. I guess I repressed the memories far too much, I can't think of them in an instant. At the same time, my mind was preoccupied with the home I just left.

I do, however, recognize the house we stop in front of. It's Tudor-style exterior helps bring back some of the old memories that managed to hide with the unsavory ones. It's red bricks, dark brown roof and outlines, and many windows reminded me that at some point I did like living here.

I used to like pretending to be a princess, until it became to real and we had to practice the duties of a "princess".

As I hesitantly walk into the front door for the first time in forever, I notice another car pull up but before I could turn around to look, I'm ushered in by my father's employees. "My name is Susan. I'm gonna help you around while you're here," she tells me and proceeds to attempt prying my luggages from my hand.

"Miss, let me carry your—" Man, she was strong. "—stuff," She successfully rips them from my grasp. It kind of hurt, not gonna lie. "Jianna!" I turn around to the sound of the voice and the sound of the door bursting wide open.

"Maia?!"

My sister, who I haven't seen in person for years, pulls me into a tight embrace and I do the same. She smelled so clean and fancy. Suddenly, I feel embarrassed that I probably smell like sweat and stress. No, I did not upgrade to business class just to go here.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't pick you up at the airport! I thought I was going to be held up in this meeting but we got out earlier, so I came here as soon as I could!" She exclaims frantically. "It's okay, it's okay," I chuckle, trying to calm her down. Although it would have been nice, I owe her so much as it is.

"Come. Let's go to your room. Do you want to go to your room? Because we can hangout at the back. Maxwell had a pool made for his little parties — even though no one ever swims when he hosts one," she rambles on with so much energy you'd think she wasn't at the office the whole day. By the way, Maxwell is our father.

"I think I'd like to check out my room actually," I answer her and she immediately drags me up to my room. "Of course, of course. You'd like to rest. It must have been exhausting. How was the flight?" she asks, almost all in one breath. Although I'm pretty sure she hates this house with every inch of her soul, it surely didn't seem like it. I wish she didn't have to pretend for my sake.

"It was fine. I've been through worst," I answer. The flight wasn't that bad. In fact, I got window seats. It's just that I was pretty much crying whenever I could.

Maia stops in front of a door and presents it with her hand as if to say "tada". I take a deep breath and reach for the cold knob. I exhale as I swing the door open to the yellow room I used to sleep in. It's actually the way it was when I left. I could tell they had it cleaned though. It wasn't dusty and didn't smelled like a room unopened for a decade.

A tear slides down my cheek. I'm not sure why I'm crying. I don't know what to feel. Maia wraps her arms around me, not saying anything. I hug her back. I remember this is also the room Maia had made me promise to live the life I wish in California. Dream big, she told me. I couldn't tell her that I cowered from the crowd instead.

"You go rest, okay? I told them not to change the room. Just in case, you wanted to keep it. If you don't, you get to choose how it's going to be," she says as she guides me to my bed, sitting on the edge of it. She wishes so much for me. She's always been like a mom to me, even though she and I lived miles apart.

"Of course, you can always come live with me," she suggests, wiping her own tears. I consider taking her up on that but I don't want to live with her and her shit husband. I might forget myself and say something out of line. "He's rarely home," she informs me as if she knew what was on my mind.

Before I could reply, there was a knock on the door. A tall frame leans on the wall, arms over his chest. "Jace!" I sit up from the bed. I rush towards him and he meets me half way, enveloping me in a tight embrace. This is my older brother, Jason Ezekiel Avery.

He's the eldest, 31. Maia's 4 years younger than him, 27. I, on the other hand, wasn't exactly planned. At least, that's what Jace and Maia used to tease me. I'm 9 years younger than Maia. That makes me 18, for those who refuse to do the math.

I left when I was 8 and a half. But that's a story for another day.

"You can let go now, you gremlin," Jace laughs, shoving me off by pushing my face away from his chest. I let go off him. He's still in a suit. I'm assuming he also came from work. "I just got back Singapore," he answers my unspoken question. Of course, he did.

"I could have picked you up but I landed at the other airport," he adds, plopping himself on my bed as well. He looks around the room, obviously surprised the room is still the way it is. After all, they moved out a couple of years after I moved to California. That was the deal.

For some reason, Susan had just brought my luggages up now. "Sorry, Miss," she says as she leaves them by my closet. "Would you like me to unpack them as well?"

"No, it's okay. Thank you so much. I appreciate it."

"Ehem," someone clears their throat and we turn our attention towards the door. I fear that it might be our father and I'm glad I was wrong. "Good day, Miss Avery, Mr. Avery, Mrs. Miller," he pauses after addressing us. "Your father would like to speak with you in the 'White Room', Miss Avery," an aged man tells me, maintaining a dreadful moment of eye contact.

"Okay," I manage to reply, feeling my throat gone dry. "He still scares me to this day," Jace whispers, making me and Maia giggle. When the laughter dies down, I turn to them with the calmest face I could muster. "I guess I have to go now."

"It's going to be okay. We'll be right here when it's over. I promise," Maia assures me, placing her hands on my shoulder.

The 'White Room' is my dad's office at home. Everyone calls it that but him — well, as far as I know. He has this thing about colors and space. It helps him to think in an empty room, but he still needs his files and what not.

The walls of the room are completely covered with white cabinets except for the wall behind his desk at the end of the room. It had the only window in the room. All you would see is a white "living room area", his white desk, and his white chair. Unless he needs anything, everything is stored away.

Oh, he does have one fake plant on the coffee table. As far as I remember.

Who knows, maybe it's a padded room now.

♔ ♛

a|n: here's another chapter as a treat.

so, i am back to writing this book but i am in college full-time right now so please be patient with me. the updates and rewriting will be slow, but i will try to publish at least once a week.