Roman
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I clenched my teeth so hard that I half-expected them to crumble into dust. My gaze remained fixed on the screen before me, where my father droned on about his affairs, seemingly oblivious to anyone else's priorities. It had been half an hour since he called me and asked me to wait, yet there was no sign of him getting his attention back on me. I remained trapped, unable to end the call, forced to be a passive observer through my laptop screen.
I was well aware that his actions were deliberate. The moment he called me, I had a clear idea of the words that would leave his lips. Yet, it's the deliberate, calculated silence that's getting under my skin, needlessly prolonging what I anticipate to be a full hour of reprimands. There's no doubt in my mind that he's been informed about the incident. Only blindness could prevent him from being aware. Even if I hadn't recounted the details, his informant, the mole, would have filled him in. Despite my desire to stand my ground, my thoughts were consumed by Millie, leaving me unable to muster a coherent defense.
The message posted on the forum had managed to spread throughout the company and all its branches. Although it was eventually removed, the harm had already been inflicted, with Millie bearing the brunt of the repercussions. All I wanted was to be by her side, assure her that everything would eventually be okay, despite not knowing how to fix this. Changing people's opinions and silencing them remained beyond my control. All we can do was let the storm subside, yet knowing Millie, she wouldn't merely allow it to pass quietly. After she read the messages, she had stormed out, and since then, my attempts to reach her through calls and texts have gone unanswered. Meanwhile, I was stuck in my house, trapped in a video call with my father, who seemed to be on a mission to infuriate me.
As my dad continued to monopolize my time with his ramblings, I retrieved my phone from my pocket. However, as I gazed at her name within my contacts, it struck me that this wasn't a conversation I wished to have over the phone. Frankly, it's a discussion I'd prefer to avoid altogether. I was at a loss for words and uncertain about how to broach the subject. It's not the kind of situation that could be dissolved with a few simple phrases. Our pictures were shared, exposing her to everyone, and someone's spiteful decision had tarnished her reputation and undermined her efforts.
I couldn't think of anyone who'd want to hurt her. From what I knew, Millie maintained a low profile unless compelled otherwise, and no one bore any grudges against her. So, the question remained: who could possibly be behind this? I've already had people tracking down the source, and whoever was responsible for that post would undoubtedly face serious consequences.
My anger surged, causing my nostrils to flare in frustration. A vehement curse escaped my lips, reverberating loudly in the room. Finally, my dad's attention was drawn in my direction, almost as if he had abruptly recalled my presence. He made a swift excuse to the person he was talking to and directed his gaze towards me, his brows knitting together. In that moment, I realized I had his undivided attention.
"Ah yes, Roman—"
I interrupted him, stating, "Dad, I know what you're going to say." There was no room for beating around the bush. While I had a clear understanding of what he would likely convey, my primary concern was his final decision.
Dad arched an eyebrow. "Do you?" His tone remained light, yet his expression turned somber. It was evident that this conversation would be incredibly challenging to endure. Judging from his demeanor, it seemed he wasn't interested in an explanation. He was here to grill me before he announced his decision.
I took a deep breath, reminding myself that even though he could get angry at times, he was a reasonable man. He didn't act impulsively but rather after careful deliberation. With that in mind, I gathered my resolve and continued, "You've heard some things...things that I can tell has upset you—"
He interrupted, picking up his phone. "Have I heard some things?" he responded with a less-than-pleased tone, his gaze still affixed to something on his phone at his desk, his eyebrows now situated closer to his hairline. "Ah, found it. A dozen of messages from quite a few concerned parties." He proceeded to scroll through them, briefly glancing in my direction. "Would you like me to share some of these messages with you, son?"
A knot of tension formed between my brows. I had a sense that something like this might happen, yet I hadn't anticipated that people would immediately turn to him with their concerns. It's infuriating to think about how many people might have already complained to him about various aspects of my life, as if my privacy wasn't worthy of respect.
"No need to go through them. I know what's in there. What I'm trying to say is that Millie's achievements are a result of her hard work, not any sort of manipulation or personal influence. The person who posted that had clear intentions to hurt her or me. My suspicion is that it's someone who bears a grudge and likely doesn't—"
For the second time, he cut me off. "Your fixation is on the person behind the post, rather than the situation. He had the challenging, taunting gaze of a man who was waiting to be invited to war.
"Situation? What situation? Millie and I are in a relationship," I retorted, my teeth clenched.
"Are you not the least bit ashamed to admit that directly to me?" he retorted.
"No reason for shame, dad. We're two mature adults who enjoy each other's company."
He looked me dead in the eye through the screen. "You're serious. You're serious about this."
"It's more than just fooling around with each other," I stumbled, my heart quickening as I struggled to convey my feelings. Did I just admitted something I wasn't ready to confront? I didn't have feelings for Millie, did I? She was the girl I wanted to talk to every day, all day, if I could. The girl who made me laugh and made me feel whole. Admitting that I wanted to be around her constantly, that she was on my mind from morning till night, worrying about her, obsessing over what she was doing, felt like stepping into unfamiliar territory. She had gone and stealthily invaded every corner of my mind, unknowingly making a home in my heart without my permission.
As my father raised his hand, an authoritative gesture, I felt my words being halted, my emotions almost choking me. He was disappointed, I could see it in his eyes. He interrupted me, his voice stern, reminding me of my responsibilities and the consequences of my actions.
"If you were just having fun, it might have been easier to handle. Son, I'm not concerned about your emotions. I don't need to know the details of your relationship. What matters is that you compromised yourself by getting involved with an employee, casting doubt on your professionalism and competence... on my decision to hand you the company. So, here's the deal. I'm giving you a chance to redeem yourself. Concentrate on rebuilding your reputation and fulfilling your responsibilities without causing any more scandals. And that woman will no longer be a part of the company."
His decision shocked me. I couldn't believe what he was suggesting. "You can't be serious," I protested, my voice tinged with disbelief.
A sigh escaped him, as though exhausted by my protest. "I'm serious. I'd talk to HR about her dismissal."
His words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I felt anger boiling within me. "Dad, you can't fire someone over their feelings," I snapped, my nostrils flaring with frustration. "Millie didn't do anything wrong."
His tone remained calm, almost infuriatingly so. "I told you, I'm not interested in the details. What I care about is containment before it gets worse. Is it unfair? Yes. So, as a way to balance that, I'll help her find another job, but she can't remain here and impact the stocks. Do you grasp what I'm trying to say, son?"
My heart raced, my chest tightened. My head felt all kinds of messed up. "No, because all I know is you're trying to fire someone who did nothing wrong."
"It's not about right or wrong. Yes, Ms. Jensen earned her promotion fairly, but then what? Do you honestly believe people care about the truth, Roman? If she stays, the rumors won't die down. People will always think she got ahead because of you, and she'll be trapped in a web of gossip and scrutiny," he explained, emphasizing, "Are you willing to let her suffer because you can't accept reality?"
"Dad, I'm not going to lose her," I insisted, my voice shaking.
His voice softened, slicing through my vulnerability. "I'm not telling you to break up. I'm telling you to protect someone you care about."
"This isn't fair. I can't... I can't do that. I'll find another solution to fix this."
"There might not be another solution. And if there were, would I be urging you to let go of a good employee?"
"If we fire her, it will only validate the rumor."
"Then get her to resign. Roman, sometimes there isn't a perfect solution. It's about minimizing damage."
I stared at him, feeling the weight on my shoulders. This was a battle between love and responsibility, emotions and professionalism. And as I stared at my father's unwavering gaze, I knew I had to find a way to protect both Millie and the company, even if it meant making the toughest decision of my life.
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After the phone call with my dad, emotions churned within me like a stormy sea. Frustration, sadness, and confusion mingled, leaving me feeling utterly lost. With trembling hands, I reached for a bottle of whiskey on the shelf. Pouring it into a glass, I took a long gulp, feeling the warmth spread through my body. Another gulp followed, then another, as the alcohol dulled the edges of my thoughts.
Hours blurred together as I sank into the couch, a cloud of haze settling over my mind. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, swirling like the ice cubes in my glass. The soft glow of a lamp casted shadows across the walls.
Just as I was sinking deeper into my own thoughts, a voice broke through the fog. "Roman?" Isaac's concerned tone cut through the haze, pulling me back to reality.
I looked up, blinking away the daze, and there he was, concerned and present. His eyes scanned my disheveled appearance, taking in the half-empty glass and the air thick with the scent of alcohol. He approached cautiously, his brow furrowed.
"Hey," I mumbled, my words slurring together. I attempted to offer a weak smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace.
"What happened, man?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.
I tried to speak, but my words stumbled over the emotions that had built up inside me. My throat felt tight, and all I managed was a shaky sigh. With a gesture, I indicated the phone on the table.
He approached, concern etched across his face. Without a word, he reached for the glass and set it aside. He sat down beside me and waited, giving me the space to gather my thoughts.
I sighed heavily, my head heavy as I tried to piece together coherent thoughts. "Dad," I managed to say, the single word carrying the weight of a thousand emotions.
He sighed as he understood the source of my distress. "I take it the conversation didn't go well?"
I shook my head, feeling a lump forming in my throat. "It's a mess, man. I don't know what to do."
"What did he say?"
"He wants to fire Millie."
His reaction was a blend of shock and disbelief. "What? That's his only solution?"
"Yeah, it's as if firing her is the magic fix," I responded, my voice tinged with a bitter edge. "And if he can't do that, then he wants me to persuade her to quit. And, ironically, that's supposed to be the better option."
Issac's annoyance mirrored mine. "And you're actually contemplating this?
I ran a hand through my hair, frustration gnawing at me. "I don't want to, Isaac. But I'm cornered, forced to pick between her and the damn company."
He let out an exasperated sigh, his concern evident in the way he looked at me. "This situation is seriously messed up, man. You shouldn't be forced to make such a messed-up choice." He leaned back in his seat, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to process the absurdity of it all. "There has to be another way out of this."
"I know. I'm not giving up on finding one. I just...I need some time to figure it all out."
He leaned forward, his eyes locked onto mine. Issac's concern remained unwavering. "Have you talked to her at all?"
I shook my head. "Not since that night. It's been three days. I'm trying to give her space, considering everything she's dealing with."
"You should talk to her," he advised. "Giving her space is great, but you need to make sure she knows she's not alone. Millie may not ask for help, but that doesn't mean she doesn't need it."
"I hear you, but I want to be able to fix everything before I do. I don't have the strength to face her right now because I feel like this is all my fault. If I hadn't seen her in that restaurant, she wouldn't be going through this." I sighed, feeling like shit.
"No, Roman. This isn't on you," he asserted firmly, his hand coming to rest on my knee in a reassuring gesture. "You both did nothing wrong. It's just messed up that your relationship has become such a big deal to others."
I let out another sigh, my shoulders slumping. "It's just...it's hard to see her hurt because of this."
"We'll find out who did this."
"When you do, make sure they're fired."
He nodded in agreement. "You think it's someone within the company?"
"Some of the pictures were taken in the company, so it's possible."
"Fuck. Who'd do this to you both? You don't have an enemy and neither does Millie."
I shook my head, the puzzle pieces not fitting together. "I don't know, Isaac. I don't know."
"Which is why you have to talk to her tomorrow."
I looked around the room, the glass in my hand feeling suddenly heavy. "I will."
"And your dad? He's not going to stop."
I looked up at the ceiling. "Then he leaves me with one choice."