Chapter 1
A departed look was directed at the square analog clock on the opposite end of her office. It was time to go, and she had used the majority of her morning to assemble all of the assurance she would need on her first day back since the delivery. Eliza quickly came to her feet and proceeded to take steps to the nearby mirror hanging on the wall.
She was afraid at what she might see, but she had to look to make sure that it was adequate enough for watchful eyes. Gaunt features were still present, making angular cheekbones more cutting, but a simple layer of foundation temporarily masked the shallow cocoa surface. A full set of lips was still desaturated from the fatigue and her body's desire to recover all that it's recently lost. After a quick trip back to her purse, a tinted lip balm served its duty in painting over the evident deficiency.
Underneath a carved portrait in the reflection, she looked just the same, or at least she convinced herself that was so. Running one hand over her wavy hair, she made sure that her eyes were not as bloodshot as they were when she last took a glance at her reflection. Yet it was hard to tell when her normally rounded eyes were more comfortable in a slanted state. Eliza could hardly remember the drive to the building– let alone what time she went to bed.
Stepping back to see more of herself, Eliza pushed out her chest and used her fingers to tuck more of her blouse into her pencil skirt's waistline. She nodded with approval, but then insecurely tugged the thin fabric loose again. Being self-conscious wasn't something she had felt in quite some time, yet her current reflection made her opinions about herself much more delicate.
After another glance at the clock, she snatched one leather portfolio and few manila folders off of her desk. It was time to show herself to the world again. So, just as she placed the tips of her fingers on the knob to her frosted doors, Eliza's eyes were closed– engaging in a silent plea with herself to hold it together.
Before she could strut her way down the hall, she was interrupted as soon as she yanked open her doors, "Morning, Ms. Kelly."
Looking at the surprised teenage girl, Eliza composed herself and nodded back. It wasn't a shock that the young, large-eyed intern would be taken aback by her less plump appearance.
"What would you like for lunch today?" a sweet, timid voice inquired, finally lifting her eyes from Eliza's loosely fitted blouse that was strategically hiding the physical aftermath of child birth.
Eliza forced a more cheerful appearance, "Don't worry about that today. I already have my own provisions. Thank you, Vanessa."
"Yes, ma'am," the intern faded, while the person she was meant to cater to was already walking down the hall with determination.
Reaching the double doors had been easy, but passing through them was where Eliza found the real obstacle. Nothing should have changed. Everything should go as it should have, despite the latest current event.
She pushed down on the knob and witnessed the gentlemen at the table talking amongst themselves. Of course–and as she expected– when she entered the room voices descended and drifted around in low whispers. Eliza traditionally took her place at the end of the long table and fixed her eyes on the folders she began to unfurl before her.
There was nothing for her to say, though the room of ten men and her boss wanted her to. It wasn't any of their business that she had given birth over the weekend, and she wasn't going to feel obligated to talk about it on Monday morning.
"Good morning, everyone," the CEO and Founder, Ms. Blackwell, began. However, her tone was more dead than usual. Eliza could detect why, after she finally lifted up her head to find an icy blue stare directed at her.
Dangerously arched eyebrows of black were paused in question. The angular jaw and pointed chin suited the features to such a diminutive stare. The natural thinness of Blackwell's red-painted lips were appropriately pursed and hidden when she had to hold her tongue. The fine hair, colored in an unnatural black, was pulled back into a precise coil further accentuating the artificial emaciation that served as a thesis to the rest of her body's frame.
Blackwell continued, with eyes fixated on her uneasy employee across the boardroom, "This morning's meeting is intended to update all Board Members with Bluestar Technology's current and prospective investments... courtesy of our Finance Department."
Slight relief washed over Eliza, as she instantly concluded that she would not have to pay much attention to the overview conference. Most of the information, that was going to be presented before the Board was all of the research and numbers that she had turned in for Blackwell before the past weekend. Eliza wasn't a direct member of Bluestar's Finance Department, but all information sifted through her before it found its way onto Blackwell's desk.
Though she wanted to keep her eyes on the projected screen to make sure that Blackwell had not whittled valuable information, Eliza couldn't prevent the monotone from fading into the background. She couldn't concentrate; she couldn't hear herself think, knowing that his eyes wouldn't remove themselves from her. He was down the table and she knew he would want to talk, but she still wasn't ready. Eliza was focused on her files, never condoning the idea of addressing personal business in the workplace.
There was a reason that Andrew's seat was on the opposite side of the table. As time had passed, the seat that was the furthest away was the place he felt most comfortable. She found it irritating how he could barely look at her before, but now she was the only subject to him in the room.
As soon as the meeting was up, she left the gawks and murmurs and glided back down the hall. She had new research to prepare for, and the reports were sure to be long and in abundance– all suitable distractions.
As soon as the door closed, she pressed her back against the cool surface and finally released the air she held captive. Everything went much smoother than she would have predicted. However, now that she was back and in new condition, she could only look at the clock and wait for an email that could be sending her into Blackwell's suite.
Before Eliza could even sit down at her desk, her office door flew open. Startled, she turned around to find a flush-faced man viciously shutting the door behind him.
"What are you doing? You can't just barge into my office like this," Eliza protested, through her shock.
Andrew was already threatening to burn tracks into her carpet, as he paced around her door. He ran his hand through a freshly faded haircut of shiny black locks, while shoving a fist to his hip. Eliza was surprised that he was so overwhelmed by what she knew he had barged in about.
"Leave my office now," she demanded with a point at her door.
Dark brown eyes narrowed into paper thin slits, and he shot air from his nose, fuming "You had the baby?!"
"Keep your voice down. We're in a professional environment, Mr. Louis," Eliza anxiously reminded him with fluttering eyes.
He stormed to her desk, and she immediately removed him from her line of sight.
"Leave," she threatened again.
"How could you not tell me that you had it?!" he exclaimed, slamming his hands down on the cherry-finished wood top.
He knew there was a baby; he knew all this time that Eliza was having a baby. The moment she walked into the boardroom, Andrew was immediately bruised with the fact that Eliza had had his baby.
"Would it have mattered?" she shot back, suddenly facing him with eyes of fire.
"Yes!" he returned with ultimate vexation.
Her breaths were fervid, and she hadn't realized that she was more than prepared to face him now, "No. No, it wouldn't have. In fact, Mr. Louis, this is the most you've ever spoken to me in the past eight and a half months. So why would I have let you know that I had the baby?"
He gritted his teeth and seethed, "Where is it?"
"Where is what?" she spat back.
"The fucking baby! Did you keep it?" he asked with distaste laced with horror.
"I gave birth over the weekend. That is all you need to know. That is all any of you on this floor need to know," she retorted.
Like usual, he didn't hear her demands and his eyes were wild with fury, "It's just as much my business, Eliza!"
"No. Your only business is waiting in folders and locked files on your desktop. Now, please find my door, Mr. Louis," she asserted.
"You can't make me leave, until you tell me what the hell you did over the weekend," he viciously demanded.
"Your status as Director of Information Technology at Bluestar continues to baffle me, as your logic and comprehension skills seem well below average," she boldly huffed, and she could feel the beads of sweat threatening at the edge of her hairline.
He lifted up a finger to her, but she quickly back-handed it away, "You are being beyond unprofessional, Mr. Louis."
He chuckled with malice, "You can't even call me by name?"
She erected her posture, "Again, I have to question your intelligence. Is Louis not your surname?"
Andrew was quick to snarl back, "Is that the name on the birth certificate?"
A knot was lodged in her throat, and her nostrils flared as they stared each other down. The cynical tension in the room froze Eliza stiff as her entire body felt as though it were on fire. Distraught, Eliza turned away and sat down in her plush seating. She softly tapped at her iMac's keyboard and began logging into her work space.
"You did, didn't you?" he asked in a low growl.
Eliza refused to allow her eyes to address anything but the screen. Her voice wobbled, "Please, escort yourself out, Mr. Louis. I'm sure you have a bevy of tasks waiting for you at your desk."
He struck his hands on her desk once more and threatened, "I swear to God, if I find any fucking surprises..."
Her fingers froze over the keys, and she kept her jaw tight. Within seconds, he swung her office door back open and barreled out without closing it from behind. As soon as the fury was out of sight, Eliza jumped up from her desk and hurried to shut the door.
She was so angry for not being able to control her body. Her hand was clasped with all of her might onto the doorknob, just wanting to yank it open and scream to her heart's content. Instead, she slowly backed away on her heels and stared at the frosted panels. Tears were already streaming down her face, devastated with all that had happened within a few days.
The two places that she had found comfort in were no longer safe havens. In the workplace she was faced with the wrath of the father of the child she never planned on having. Not once did Eliza think to see children in her future. It was never what she wanted. She didn't hate them, nor did she necessarily like them. Now, she brought one into the world and had been in denial about it until the past weekend brought her back into reality.
All of this time she had a plan. Losing sleep over decisions that should not have been delayed, Eliza had already set up appointments to discuss what steps to take once the baby was to arrive– days were mapped and phone calls were made up until her last trimester. Out of nowhere, cold feet prevented her from making the final phone calls. Thus, leaving her second place of comfort filled with the cries and endless wants of a newborn.
She ran her hands over her grey skirt and promptly took her place back at her desk. Shredding tissues from the nearby box, she roughly ran them over her face before shoving several wads into the wastebasket.
Reaching to grab for another tissue, she was stricken with fright again as her phone vibrated with Emmy's number on the screen. It was instinct to ignore it, so she followed suit. Pressing down on the hold button, she made the vibrations come to an end.
Eliza just needed a moment to herself. All she wanted to do was get back to work and not have to think about what was waiting for her back home. Alas, the loud clicks that echoed from the keyboard couldn't keep the vibrations of the phone at bay.
After the fourth consecutive call, she snatched up the device and barked, "Yes?!"
"Why did it take you so long to pick up the phone, Ms. Kelly?" Emmy snapped over the line.
"I could have been away from my phone," Eliza retorted while pinching the skin above her nose.
"Uh huh. That explains the ferocious greeting," Emmy pointed out.
About to slam her hand against the desk, she quickly stopped herself and calmly questioned, "What... Why are you calling?"
There was a brief pause, but then in a mellow sigh Emmy began, "I was checking to see how you were doing with your first day back to work, Ms. Kelly."
"Everything is fine," Eliza lied, while trying to read over the sentences that were blending together on her screen.
"Ms... Kelly," Emmy called with a groan that only meant she knew Eliza was lying.
The frustrated woman hunched over her desk and placed a sweaty palm over her forehead, "Emmy. I really have a lot of work to tend to at the office. If that is all that you have to ask me, then I'm going to have to hang up now."
"Okay... I–" Emmy's response was cut off by distant wails in the background.
Without thinking twice, Eliza hung up. Everything was revolving around this child and it was scaring her more with every passing hour. The screams and frequent trips around the apartment had left her drained after abiding by Emmy's constant requests the night before. Fueled on three fragmented hours of sleep, Eliza was dialing for Vanessa to bring her a cup of coffee.
As soon as the landline was back on the receiver, she looked down to her chest and sighed with frustration. Small spots of breast milk were apparent on her dark blouse and she cursed for not remembering to put on the nursing pads Emmy nagged her about before leaving in the morning.
Abruptly, Eliza covered her face and huddled over in her chair. The nonstop crying was going to wear her thin, while she continued to sulk over the changes that were happening all too fast. For more than eight months, she had prepared for this, but she was also planning for adoptive measures that she felt kept her a little sane. However, the balancing act between the two was causing sleepless nights that never aided the swelling and aches she already had to endure throughout pregnancy.
Eliza was still wiping her face and blowing her nose, almost clearing half of a new tissue box. She seemed together when taking the small cup of black coffee she received from the intern. Yet, as soon as she thanked Vanessa and closed off her world again, she was crumbling all over once more with blankets of tears dressing her face. Crying and typing, she tried her best to focus but she couldn't.
Eliza folded her arms over her desk and continued to viciously sob into her sleeves– finally giving up after failing to compose a simple email. She was uncomfortable everywhere; there was not a single place she could run to without being reminded of her mistakes.