Chapter 11 – Dawn
I fold into half Stone’s envelope and store it inside my bag. Weirdly, I have this bad feeling about the content of the envelope. While on my way to the hospital, I tried to fight the temptation of opening it. I just feel that it is going to exacerbate the situation.
No. I fear that what might be inside might totally change my opinion of Hunter Stone. I am dead set of hating the man. No miracles will change that. However, I got this strong feeling that this envelope contains some magic that might actually dither my already established judgment of this ridiculous man. It’s just that I’m not ready for that.
There are few job openings in the city, for instance, a hardware shop in need of a store clerk, the city museum short of a utility staff, a few restaurants urgently hiring kitchen crewmembers, and many more. But if I were to have a job like a waitress again, I’d better come back to Max’s. I’m sure Mr. Nguyen and Mr. Maxwell will take me back. Getting a job in Trenton will be more costly. Everyday bus transportation will cost more than what I will spend if I stay in Princeton. And if I choose to rent an apartment, then I will have to cut down my expenses and learn to be more frugal. To what extent can I stretch this frugality? I think this is the worst I can get.
When I reach Princeton, I waste no time. I right away send my resume to publishing companies or just plain business in need of executive assistants, operation officers, go-to-guys, or anything that is in my book. There’s this one law office—a starting one, I guess—that is in need of a secretary. It was the only that asked me to come back for an interview in a fortnight. Looks like I’d have a good shot with it. It won’t be difficult to do what secretaries do, I think. For the meantime, while I wait for replies from the publishing companies I have applied in to, the job will do.
It is Mom’s time to rest so I am taking over watching after Dad. Ray will arrive in an hour. He just had some papers he needs to process for his new work.
While Dad is asleep, I remember Stone’s envelope. I take it out from my bag and begin reading it.
____________________________________________________________________________
EMPLOYMENT CONTRACT
THIS EMPLOYMENT CONTRACT dated this _________________.
BETWEEN:
Mr. Hunter Stone of Stone Holdings, INC.
(the “Employer”)
-AND-
Miss Angel Mohr of 42-A Dale Street, Northumber Avenue, Princeton, New Jersey
(the ‘Employee”)
BACKGROUND:
A. The Employer is of the opinion that the Employee has the necessary qualifications, experience, and abilities to assist and benefit the Employer in its “business”.
B. The Employer desires to employ the Employee and the Employee has agreed to accept and enter such employment upon the terms set out in this Agreement.
IN CONSIDERATION OF the matters described above and of the mutual benefits and obligations set for in this Agreement, the recipient and sufficiency of which consideration is hereby acknowledged, the parties to this Agreement agree as follows:
Commencement and Date Term
1. The Employee will commence permanent full-time employment with the Employer on the ___ day of ____________, ________. (the “Commencement Date”)
Job Title and Description
2. The Employer agrees to employ the Employee as a GIRLFRIEND / FIANCE. The Employee is expected to perform the following job duties:
2.1 Attending dinners and cultural events
2.2 Escorting the Employer during family events
2.3 Act nice and sweet around Employer’s family
2.4 Call Employer with term of endearment such as sweetheart, honey, babe, or etc.
2.5 Make public believe relationship is true through gestures and words
2.6 Smile in front of camera
2.7 Obey Employer’s orders
2.8 Others
This is ridiculous! I could only laugh at this. This is worse than the first contract I had with him. Does he think I will actually follow everything that is stipulated in there? I could not even finish reading it, how on earth could he think I can do it?
He calls this trash a miracle?
The screw in Hunter’s head has finally gone missing.
Automatically, my hands do the honor of scrunching the papers up and push them back to my bag. I might just remind myself to burn them when I get home tomorrow morning. I don’t need to read the entire crap. I know I am not going to sign it anyway.
I stand up to ease the numbness in my legs. Apparently, Stone’s contract contains this magic on my legs that I was glued on my seat for a couple of minutes without breathing. Horrible magic! Through the glass window, I let my eyes feast on the sparkling splendor of the skyline. The colors and lights are at par with the glowing stars in the sky. They are the remedy to the sore Hunter’s contract caused me.
“Sweetie, is that you?”
Dad draws his body up to a sitting position.
“Hey, dad.”
“Where’s Sarah?”
I walk closer to Dad.
“She’s at home. I’ll be looking after you tonight,” I say while I sit next to him.
A soft smile forms on his face.
“Are you hungry, Dad?” There’s a tray of potato salad and beef stew on the table. But I don’t think Dad would want to eat something that is a little bit cold already.
“I’m going to buy something, okay?”
“I think I want some hot porridge, sweetie.”
“I will just get that, dad!” I remember that there’s a café four blocks away from the hospital that sells good chicken porridge. Dad loves anything that has chicken so I am pretty sure he’s going to satiate himself with the porridge.
I kiss him on the forehead, and then proceed downstairs to get his food.
“Ray?” I right away pick up my phone after seeing Ray’s name flashed on my screen. It is cold in the streets but I am completely geared with sufficient winter clothes now, hence I think I can stay a little longer to pick up his call. My other hand holds Dad’s porridge.
“Angel, where are you?”
“I’m on my way to the hospital. I got Dad some hot porridge.”
“Angel…” Is it just me or Ray sounds a little unsure?
“What’s wrong, Ray? Are you in the hospital now? Is Dad okay?”
“It’s not about your Dad, okay? So breathe,” he says.
“What is it? You’re killing me here now.”
I hear him sigh.
“You might want to go directly to the train station, Angel.”
“And why is that?”
“Damien’s leaving—for real. As in leave New Jersey.”
My legs halt but not my senses. I feel that I hear everything around including the cars and the noisy teenagers in the sidewalk, so my ears could have not deceived me this time.
“I heard he’s leaving for New York. From there, he’s going to take an international flight to Spain. He’s leaving for good, I guess.”These exact words keep playing in my head.
Leave Jersey for New York.
Leave America for Spain.
Leave me behind for a reason I cannot fathom.
But isn’t he still recovering from surgery? Isn’t it too early to leave?
I have no idea where Ray got that info but he did not seem like he was bluffing. Ray will never play with my feelings. But the information is not enough. He did not tell me what time Damien will leave or if he would be taking the bus or train. I doubt he will. He has cars. He can leave anytime of the day. So that just makes it almost impossible for me to stop him. There’s no way I can stop him now.
So here I am still standing in the midst of the crowded street with my head just spinning around ‘what-ifs’.
“Angel, are you going to station now?”
“No.” I am not going there.
“Seriously? You’re not going after Damien?”
“No.” My voice begins to croak. A huge lump seems to have caused a severe blockage in my throat that I feel like gagging. And even my chest is heavy and there appears to be zero escape for whatever it is that causing the obstruction inside. All I know is I want to rid of it. It is building up—and sometime later I might burst if it remains there, fostering confusion and frustration.
It is done.
All is done—with me and Damien.
His leaving means so much about his apathy or indifference towards me. It stings more than hearing direct rejection. I did not know it would hurt like this. I thought that when I finally hear him say that everything’s done between us, it will be a great pain. Did not realize this was more painful. To be left with nothing, with no closure, with no goodbyes.
Damien might have filled his room for forgiveness with anything other than me, that I cannot fit in there anymore. Perhaps he’s totally over me. Or perhaps ours was not worth to keep.
There’s no use to let these tears free. The man responsible for these tears has chosen the door out of my life. Crying for someone who won’t even see them, who won’t even see the hurt he’s caused me, who won’t even be there to wipe them away, is an absolute waste. More so if I cry for someone who was not even true of his love for me. It is worse than absolute lunacy.
Then what was it between us? What were we?
Just an item? Just a speck of amusement for a bored Etheridge? Just a thing in the past?
He was not really serious of me, was he?
Because if he was, he would not just leave like this. One word from him would be enough. One word—even if it’s rejection or re-acceptance. Just one word. But I got nothing.
Such a coward.