Hatred and Worry

Regrets can sometimes haunt us until our last breath, causing a lingering hurt that never fades. Forgiveness becomes elusive and painfully difficult to obtain.

The older man came from the CEO's office. His suit fit his body so well that Alex's focus was on the suit rather than the person wearing it. Alex's attention shifted to the man's watch, trying to figure out who he was. His face darkened as he realized that the person standing in front of him was his dad's best friend. His thoughts fought against this realization, but the old man called out to him, causing Alex to step backward.

Hell no, not today, Alex mumbled while passing him with such force that the man grabbed his hand before he opened the office door.

Wait, it's been a long time since we last met or talked.

Hands off! Alex snarled, yanking his hand away. Who are you to me? I recall very well we have no relationship. We will never have one.

His face twisted in disgust at the sight of the man's hand on his. Memories of past betrayals and broken promises flooded his mind, fueling his fury. His heart pounded in his chest, the bitterness of years of resentment bubbling to the surface.

You think you can just show up here and pretend everything's fine? Alex's voice trembled with anger, his eyes blazing with hatred. After everything you've done? After the way you betrayed my family?

He took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides, the veins on his neck pulsing with rage. The old man's presence was a stark reminder of the pain and disappointment that had haunted Alex for years.

Get out of my sight, Alex spat, his voice low and venomous. I want nothing to do with you. Ever.

Alex, is this the way you talk to our business partner? An angry voice came from behind Alex.

They both turned to gaze at the person who had spoken. Alex rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, exhaling loudly. Hahaha, I thought you wouldn't come. What took you so long? I really hate you both, so why did you call me here? Be quick, I have somewhere else to be, he said with an unbothered smirk, tapping his foot impatiently.

Mm, mm, let me leave you, but your child still hates me. Why? The old man spoke, his voice tinged with hurt. His eyes showed a glimmer of pain at Alex's indifference, but Alex didn't care. He shrugged, a cold, dismissive expression on his face.

Why? Maybe because I have good reasons, Alex said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. But you know what? I don't have time for this.

Without another word, he turned his back on them, yanked the office door open, and strode inside. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving the two old men standing in a heavy, uncomfortable silence. The old man's shoulders slumped, the weight of Alex's words and actions bearing down on him, while the other man clenched his fists, his face flushed with a mix of anger and frustration.

Alex walked towards the window to catch his breath. It was unbearable to be in the same place as those two men, especially his dad's best friend. His anger didn't fade even as he breathed in and out; instead, it only intensified, which he found infuriating. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of rage and sorrow coursing through his veins.

A flash of the past overwhelmed him—his dad always chose his friend over his own child. But why? Alex had even lost his mother because of that so-called friend. His dad never cared about their well-being, which led to his mother's sickness worsening until she finally died. The memory of her lying helplessly in bed, her once vibrant spirit crushed by neglect, haunted him. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he blinked them away, refusing to show any sign of weakness.

Hahaha, long time no see, he yelled bitterly, his voice cracking with the weight of unspoken grief and rage. He also wants me dead. Haha, I hate him a lot.

The betrayal was unforgivable. He remembered countless nights filled with sadness and tears, feeling abandoned and unloved as his father prioritized his friend over his own family. The wounds ran deep, leaving scars that never healed. His mother's pained smile and his father's indifferent gaze replayed in his mind like a cruel, endless loop.

Alex's anger towards the old man was on another level. He pulled out his phone and checked it, finding some solace in pictures of his dogs, which helped him calm down a bit. The images of their loyal, loving faces were a stark contrast to the betrayal and hurt he felt. He took a deep breath, feeling a flicker of warmth and love, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

But then the door opened, and his moment of peace shattered once again. His jaw tightened, and his fists clenched at his sides. The presence of those men reignited the fire of his resentment, the churning emotions of hurt, anger, and sadness all battling for dominance within him.

Hey, son. I knew if I called you, you wouldn't come to see me, but I have to ask, why are you so upset? I'm here to talk to my son. I missed you a lot, and I'm sorry. I know you hate me, but I'm so sorry for what happened in the past. I'm trying to fit myself into being a good father for you. I hope you see my efforts. His father's voice trembled with regret and pain, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.

But Alex only replied, his voice cold and unyielding, So you want me to forgive you for what you and your friend did that night? You only had to take her to see a doctor, but you chose your friend. I called, crying and pleading, but you didn't care. His voice cracked, raw with suppressed grief and anger. Ha, trying to be a good father? You lost that right, Dad. Alex's smile, twisted with bitterness and pain, made his father's hurt even more evident. His eyes, devoid of warmth, bore into his father's, filled with a sorrow that had festered into fury over the years.

His father's friend, standing behind him, tapped his shoulder in an attempt to offer support, but it only fueled Alex's rage further. His fists clenched, his knuckles white with tension.

So you called me to show me that you're still with your friend? And I lost my mother all because of him? Alex's voice rose, thick with anguish as he pointed accusingly at the old man standing behind his dad. Do you know what it's like to watch someone you love die because of someone else's selfishness? Do you know what it feels like to be abandoned by your own father? His eyes glistened with unshed tears, his body shaking with the intensity of his emotions.

You think you can just waltz back into my life and ask for forgiveness? You think saying 'sorry' will erase the years of pain and loneliness? You weren't there when I needed you most, and now you expect me to just move on? No, Dad. You lost that right a long time ago. Alex's voice broke, a single tear escaping down his cheek, a testament to the deep, unhealed wounds of his past.

Alex shook off the tear, forcing a tight smile. I'm happy for your friendship, he said, his voice quivering slightly. So tell me, why am I here? He turned and took a seat, his posture rigid with tension.

My son...

He was abruptly interrupted. Eeeehh no. I'm a business partner, so let's not bring feelings and emotions into this. I prefer profits, so let's talk. Alex's face remained expressionless, making the old man falter in his attempt to reach out. The old man sat down, his own discomfort visible as he tried to adjust to the cold atmosphere. They discussed business for a while, but Alex's frustration was palpable.

I can't work with him, Alex said firmly, his voice edged with bitterness.

It's only for one week, please, Son... Sorry, Partner. Alex's father's voice was strained, his eyes pleading with an anguish that he couldn't fully express. The pain of not being able to address his son as "son" cut deep, and the guilt of their fractured relationship was evident in his expression. He knew it was his fault that the gap between them had grown so wide.

Hey, don't call me 'son,' please. Alex's voice was icy, his eyes cold and unforgiving. Hope you won't forget in the future. Okay, Mr. Andrew, I will work with you on this project for a week. Let's make it bearable. And don't call my name outside of formal occasions; we are not related. His words were deliberate, each one punctuated by the weight of unresolved hurt and betrayal.

He shook hands with his dad's best friend, the gesture devoid of warmth. His face was a mask of resolve and pain as he said his goodbyes, the finality of his departure hanging heavily in the air. He walked out, the door closing behind him with a resounding thud that echoed the emotional distance between them.

I can't always be here, so I need you to help my son transition into the role of the next CEO. Let's talk more tomorrow. I need some rest, Alex's dad said to his friend.

The old man smiled, helping Alex's dad up. Haha, you're growing old. Alright, let's go. I'll see you off. He offered some comfort, adding, "Don't worry, he will forgive you one day.

The night was calm and serene, with the moon casting a gentle glow over the city. Mia sat alone in her dimly lit room, the soft light of a bedside lamp illuminating her troubled face. I wish Papa hadn't changed. We could have still been a loving family, she thought, her heart heavy with regret and sadness. She turned to her mother, her voice soft but firm. Mama, I have to go somewhere. You know where. Please stay with your friend Mary for a week. I'll be back next week.

Her mother's eyes filled with unspoken anguish as she looked at her daughter. The darkness outside mirrored the deep turmoil within her. The thought of Mia leaving again was almost unbearable, yet she knew that stopping her would only deepen her daughter's pain. The weight of past separations pressed heavily on her heart.

Okay, child. Please be careful, her mother managed to say, her voice choked with emotion. As Mia stepped into the waiting cab, her mother watched from the window, her heart breaking with each passing moment. The cool night air seemed to amplify her sorrow, and she clutched her chest as if trying to hold back the tears.

Mary, seeing Mia's mother's distress, approached her with concern. "Hey..." Mary's voice was gentle, her eyes reflecting the sadness of the night.

She is going back to that hell, my child. I can't stop her, Mia's mother sobbed.

Do you have a child? Mary asked lightly.

"Yes," Mia's mama replied softly, her voice filled with empathy. "She is the reason I'm still alive." Mary guided Mia's mother into the house, where the warm, dimly lit interior offered a stark contrast to the cold, dark night outside. Mary wrapped her in a comforting hug, the gesture a small solace amidst the overwhelming worry and pain that hung heavily in the air.

Silence occupied Mary's home, only broken by her friend's terrified sobs. "Can I use your phone?" Rose finally spoke, her voice trembling as she broke the oppressive silence between them.

"Yes, yes, you can," Mary replied quickly, anxiety evident in her voice as she ran to her bedroom. She returned with her phone, her hands shaking slightly as she handed it to Rosey with a warm, but worried smile.

Rosey dialed a number with shaky fingers, and within two agonizing minutes, the call was answered.

Hello, it's Mia's mama. Please, help my child. I don't know why, but I have a terrible feeling, she sobbed, her voice cracking. She went back to our old house to perform the rituals she usually does each year, but this year, I didn't feel right letting her go alone. I'm so scared and restless. No... I couldn't stop her. You know how stubborn she can be.

Her breathing became so erratic that Mary had to hold her, her own heart pounding in fear as she listened. Wait, you promise you will protect her at any cost? Mia's mother pleaded, her voice desperate.

Thank you so much. May God bless you always.

Thanks, and the call ended, leaving the room filled with an uneasy silence once more.

Inspector John took his phone from his ear, worry etched deeply on his face, indicating that Rosey had called him to ask for help. His mind raced with confusion and concern. Why was Rosey so frantic? Her husband had died a long time ago. Or maybe they had missed something crucial—a mother's fear can never be wrong. Anxiety gnawed at him, and he felt a chill run down his spine as he pondered the possibilities. He was lost in these troubling thoughts when his partner's voice suddenly broke through, pulling him back to reality.

Man, these days you're so off. Is everything okay? his partner asked, his voice tinged with stress and worry.

"I'm okay," Inspector John replied, though his voice betrayed his unease. I have something on my mind. I need your help. Can you help me? He stared into his partner's eyes, his own filled with a mix of desperation and hope, waiting for a reassuring yes.

They were outside the bustling police station, and it looked like it was around 9 p.m. The parking lot was alive with activity: officers were heading out in their cars for patrols, their lights flashing in the growing darkness. The air was filled with the sounds of engines revving, radios crackling, and hurried footsteps, adding to the urgency and tension in John's request.

So, will you help me?

Yes, I will help you. Haha, you didn't even need to ask, his partner replied with a hint of mockery, though his eyes showed genuine concern.

Inspector John hurried to his car, his heart pounding. Hey, I need to go somewhere. Please cover my work. I'll be back in the morning, he called out, waving as he drove off. His friend, still in a state of confusion and worry, shook his head with a bemused smile before heading back into the police station. Lost in thought, he sat down in his office, inhaling deeply and then exhaling slowly, trying to steady his nerves.