Hollowed loneliness{85}

Sitting in my office on the top floor, I found myself lost in a sea of thoughts, my face resting on my left palm. My right hand absentmindedly played with a black thin pen, twirling it between my fingers as I gazed out at the bustling city below. The vibrant colors and busy scenes seemed to blur together, a backdrop to my own internal turmoil.

Inhaling deeply, I counted to ten in my head before exhaling slowly. It was a technique I had learned to calm my racing mind, a mind that often wandered back to the time when I first arrived here in Singapore, about a week ago. Adjusting to this new life had proven to be challenging, to say the least. Thousands of miles separated me from my friends and family, and their absence weighed heavily on my heart. I missed them dearly, but I knew I had to focus on my work now.

I had taken on the role of CEO at Cora Pharmaceuticals and Scientific Research Co., a position that demanded my full attention and dedication. I had to put on a brave face and fulfill my responsibilities, even when my mind played tricks on me. Everywhere I turned, I saw Vasili. His presence haunted me, appearing in the most unexpected places - in the shower, by the garden of my new mansion, in meetings, and even in my dreams. Those broken, haunted eyes followed me relentlessly, a constant reminder of my mistakes.

I desperately wished for a glimpse of the real Vasili, the omega I had treated with such disdain and cruelty. It was only now, when I had finally come to realize my love for him, that it was too late. The damage had been done, and Vasili now despised me. The weight of his hatred saddened me deeply, a regret that gnawed at my soul.

With a tired sigh, I leaned back in my chair, weary from the day's work and the constant turmoil within. My wolf, Darren, had been on edge all week, his anxious energy scratching and pacing around in my mind. Whenever I tried to reach out, he ignored me, adding to my frustration. I longed for the connection we once had, but it seemed to slip further away with each passing day.

Deciding it was time to leave the office, I stood up and grabbed my keys. Before leaving, I reminded the security personnel to lock up. As I made my way to the parking lot, the weight of the day seemed to settle on my shoulders, dragging me down. The drive home offered a small respite, a chance to rest and recharge for the night ahead.

The road stretched out before me, the city lights flickering like distant stars. Thoughts of Vasili and the mistakes I had made lingered in my mind, intertwining with the exhaustion that seeped into my bones. I yearned for a chance to make things right, to somehow show Vasili the love and care he deserved. But for now, all I could do was hope that time would heal the wounds I had inflicted, and that one day, I would find forgiveness and redemption.

I need a drink.

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I arrived home from work, pulling into the driveway of the new mansion I had moved into just a week ago. As I stepped out of the car, I nodded at the greetings of the new maids and my new Butler, Charles, who took my keys to park the car. The weight of the day's events still lingered heavily on my shoulders, and I knew I needed something stronger than a glass of wine to numb the pain and loneliness that consumed me.

Making my way to the bar, I poured myself a glass of wine and downed it in one shot. But the ache in my heart remained, urging me to seek solace in a different kind of intoxication. Glass after glass of whiskey followed, and with each one, I felt myself losing touch with reality, surrendering to the delusions that alcohol freely offered.

Hours slipped away unnoticed, and I was suddenly awakened by the sunlight seeping through a slight gap between the curtains. Confused, I sat up and surveyed the room, wondering who had brought me upstairs. I knew for a fact that I had passed out from the excessive drinking the previous night at the in-home bar. "It was probably Charles," I thought to myself.

Shaking off the remnants of the alcohol-induced haze, I headed for the shower and dressed in comfortable clothes. It was Saturday, and I had no immediate obligations to the office unless an emergency arose. I made my way down to the kitchen, expecting to find the new cook I had hired. But to my surprise, I found my mother and father chatting away happily.

Curiosity piqued, I inquired about the new cook, only to be told by my mother, Cora, that she had given her the weekend off. She invited me to sit for breakfast, and we shared a quiet meal together. Afterwards, we moved to the garden to enjoy some fresh air. Lost in my own thoughts, I stared into space until my mother hugged me from behind, her warmth enveloping me.

She whispered comforting words, telling me that it was okay to cry and to lean on her when the pain became too much to bear. It was then that I realized it was my father who had changed my clothes earlier. I desperately tried to hold back the tears, but they flowed uncontrollably, like a torrential downpour.

"It hurts, Mom. It really hurts to know that he'll never want anything to do with me again," I choked out between sobs. "I hurt him so much. I'm a terrible person, aren't I?"

My mother's soothing words and my father's warm embrace offered a temporary respite from the anguish that gripped my heart. In that moment, I realized that despite my mistakes and the pain I had caused, I still had the unconditional love and support of my parents. And for that, I was grateful.