Chapter 7:

"Sir, Mrs. Amelia is at my office. Should I let her in?"

"Let her in," Ashiro responded. Moments later, an aged woman entered. She was dressed in a smart, tailored blouse and slacks, her attire speaking of maturity and elegance.

"Even your own mother can't come in without an appointment?" Ashiro remarked, turning the swivel chair towards the voice. He placed his hands on the desk, trying to appear composed despite the tension in the room.

"What brings you here, Mother?" Akira asked, loosening his tight necktie with a sigh of resignation.

"Are you acting like you forgot your own wedding anniversary, Ashiro?" Mrs. Amelia replied in a sarcastic tone, raising an eyebrow as she walked closer to his desk.

"I didn't forget, I just don't have time to celebrate it today."

"Again? Are you planning on missing every wedding anniversary?" She placed her bag on the table between them, her tone mixing disappointment with frustration.

"It's not what you think, Mom."

"Your excuses won't work on me anymore, Ashiro. Make sure you find some time later," Mrs. Amelia said firmly, her hands gesturing emphatically.

"I can't, Mother. My schedule is packed today. I can't just abandon my important client for our anniversary."

"Your clients are more important than celebrating your own wedding anniversary? You could easily reschedule for tomorrow," she countered, pacing a bit in front of him.

"It's not that simple, Mom. I can't afford to rearrange my meetings; it would disrupt my entire month's schedule. I can't have my PA adjusting everything again," Akira explained, leaning back in his chair with a troubled expression.

"If you won't show yourself later, I'll take matters into my own hands, Ashiro."

"Don't try to threaten me. You know as well as I do, if you make things more difficult for me, I won't hesitate to leave this company," Ashiro responded firmly, his voice rising slightly.

His mother's expression suddenly softened. "What are you saying?"

"I'm only doing this for Grandma and Grandpa's sake. You know that," Ashiro stated as he stood up and walked towards his mother.

"Would you be able to provide me with more details about the point you just made?" she asked, revealing sudden interest in Ashiro's words about his older brother.

"It appears that my mother is still in the act of determining the location of her favorite son," Ashiro said empathetically.

As Ashiro wondered, his mother still cared deeply about their elder brother, the favorite son among the three.

His mother fell silent briefly. Ashiro cleared his throat. "Don't worry too much about your elder son, Mother. He's living the life he wanted, unlike me, who needs to sacrifice everything for these mere arguments between you and Father."

His mother remained silent, listening to Ashiro. "I suggest you visit your therapist, Mother. You know you're not in the right state to handle stress. Instead of coming here to the company, trying to make a scene, messing with my schedule, and babbling unreasonable things, why don't you spend your time taking care of your own health?" Ashiro didn't want to continue speaking to his mother. He tried to be patient because he knew she couldn't handle harsh words. Amelia had an anxiety disorder, and Ashiro was aware of it.

A persistent knock interrupted their conversation. The door opened. "Sir, your next appointment will start within ten minutes. Your presence is needed in the office lounge," his PA said.

"Give me a minute," Ashiro replied to his PA, and the door closed again. He turned to face his mother. "Mom, I have to go. If you insist on wasting your time here and continuing this unreasonable argument, then you leave me no choice but to call security."

Amelia felt irritated by Ashiro's words but had no choice but to leave the company. As Amelia gathered her things from the table, she glanced at her son with a mix of hurt and resignation. Without another word, she picked up her bag and straightened her blouse. Her footsteps echoed faintly in the quiet office as she made her way to the door, her demeanor a stark contrast to the elegance with which she entered.

Ashiro watched her leave, feeling a pang of guilt and frustration gnawing at him. He knew his words had been harsh, driven by stress and the weight of responsibilities he felt obligated to shoulder. As she reached the door, he hesitated, torn between the urge to call her back and the need to maintain his resolve.

Ashiro sank back into his chair. He hated these conflicts, especially with his own mother. Yet, the demands of his career seemed relentless, leaving little room for personal matters.

As he gathered his thoughts, he couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter had left a deeper rift between them. Despite his outward resolve, a part of him yearned to find a way to reconcile, to mend the strained relationship that seemed to fray a little more with each passing confrontation.