Chapter 58: Chapter 58

Ella's POV

I take one last look around the house that has been my home for a few months — the house that cradles my happy and unforgettable memories with Zed. I don't know if someday, I can still see this place. Our situation is such a mess. And I can no longer foresee a future for both Zed and me.

A pang of pain seizes my heart as I remember the day I danced with Zed. But somehow, I smile at the thought. He's so stunning, taking my breath away every time I set my eyes on him. I felt more like a girl dreaming of a knight or the leading female character of a novel who finally meets her man.

I drag my reluctant legs into the car I have rented until the one I've bought is ready to use. Gripping at the steering wheel, I still stare at the glass walls of the house, wishing to catch a glimpse of Zed. But not even a shadow of him is there. My eyes sting at just the thought of his indifference. But I know Zed already thinks that I have already picked my choice when he sees me packing my things. And that is James over him.

He's right. We have nothing more to talk about because we both know this is happening. He even told me several times that he had already prepared his mind for this. Yet, the irony of it is that we both allowed ourselves to gamble, to be blind and deaf to the real situation when we had our engagement. We even announced marriage. We were not lying back then; we were true to our feelings. But fate has another plan for us.

I move into the studio-type condominium Menchie has purchased for me. It's in the heart of the city where you can see the busy streets below. The floor area is not even half the size of Zed and mine's bedroom, but I prefer this one over spacious accommodation because I thought this type is less lonely. Only to realize that I still see Zed everywhere I turn my head. And the memories and the longing to be with him are plaguing my mind.

To get me functioning, I need some distraction. And that is to kill time by working until my mind is too exhausted to think of anything. So I pick up my keys, then zoom off to the office.

No sooner than I step into my office that I see the withered rose painting hanging on the wall. I stop in my tracks as I remember everything Mr. D has told me about my sad choices – being melancholic. And all those moments come flooding into my mind like some panoramic view of the events in my life.

"I see sadness," says the voice over my shoulders that has my head turn abruptly in his direction. He may speak like a digital machine, but a floodgate seems to open up at the sound of his voice, sending my tears forward.

Mr. D scratches his head, looking guilty. Then, he awkwardly says, "Researchers have established that crying releases oxytocin and endogenous opioids, also known as endorphins, some feel-good chemicals help ease both physical and emotional pain. So, go ahead."

I reach out to pinch his side while I burst into laughter. I can't help it. He looks so cute, despite his towering and robotic figure.

"Let's sit down. Why don't we discuss business instead?" I tell him, gesturing for him to follow me inside my cubicle.

"What's happening between you and your man?" he says the moment I sit on my swivel chair and he on the chair across my desk.

"You're now speaking like a human, don't you think?" I smirk.

"I have ears, eyes, heart, and brain like you do, making me aware of what's happening around me." He looks so serious that I find him hilarious.

"So, you also love gossiping?" I giggle.

"If it makes you feel better that way, then go ahead."

I see his sincerity, so I stop teasing and go about my business. "You're right, Mr. D. I choose to be sad because I fall in love with someone who couldn't be mine. What makes it worse is that he sent my fiancé to jail."

"You're wrong. Mr. Kim Moori brought the ugly crime he committed against his wife to court. Mr. Ramos cooperated and supported as expected from a subsequent husband. Don't you think your husband deserves to be punished for his crime?"

The way he says it makes me cringe. He makes me feel like I'm acting on impulse and not with reasons.

"Yes, of course," I tell him. "But I shouldn't have picked him out of the million men I could have chosen, instead. Choosing him is like rubbing salt against his festering wound."

"Make a decision you won't regret in the end. It's another choice you have to think over carefully."

I nod, pressing my lips into a thin smile.

"I need help, Mr. D. I don't know what's right or wrong anymore."

"What's in your mind right now? Think of those things that you can't live without."

I look away for a couple of seconds, summoning my courage to reaffirm what I am set to do.

"My love for Zed is just about feelings. But what James and I had is different."

Mr. D looks right into my eyes for a couple of seconds. And that stare makes me doubt the decision I have in mind. But what's pressing on me is the commitment I had with James. Because it's a decision my father would have preferred if he's here because of the friendship. And I know that friendship is all about accepting who a person is, not about condemning him for his evil deeds.

"Whatever you think is right, then go ahead," he says, dismissing our conversation with a hand gesture."

"Mr. D, wait," I call over before he reaches the doorknob. "What is your wildest dream?"

He looks over his shoulder and says, "None of your business."

I hurriedly walk over to him. I should not waste time anymore. "Mr. D, if it's something that involves money, I can give it to you."

He stops, staring at the door for a couple of seconds before he turns to look at me.

"What do you want in return?"

I know he gets my intention. Any offer often comes with a prize. "I need your creation for Jamella Tech. I want my father, the founder of Jamella Tech, to be proud of me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he grunts, tilting his head to one side.

"You do. All those flagship products Kim Yuan has, come from you."

"You can't afford my demands in exchange for what you ask." He spins around and reaches for the doorknob.

I almost leap to catch him, but the door opens, and he steps out. "Wait, Mr. D! I'll try. Let's talk it out, first."