Fresh out of trash

"Aron's POV,"

"Thank you, Sara, for such a lovely breakfast." The first bite of the pancakes brought a flood of childhood memories of the mornings when my grandma would make me my favorite breakfast. Since she is so similar to my grandma, I sometimes wonder if she has ever met her.

"Aron, please allow me to use your backyard." She twitched her fingers nervously.

"What are you going to do in the backyard?" I raised my eyebrow at her, curious.

"I'm not sure yet, but I felt tranquil under the oak tree."

Why is she staring so hard at her plate, as though it's trying to communicate with her?

"All right, you're free to use my backyard and do whatever you want inside this house, but please don't try to flee without my permission."

"All right." She nodded and then lost herself in her thoughts.

She possesses a wealth of hidden truths. My understanding of her life is limited to its surface, leaving me unaware of its depths, like the surface of an iceberg. To learn more about her, I must reread every book that she has written.

"Take care, Aaron." When she noticed me sitting in the driver's seat, she gestured with her hand.

Our relationship has evolved in some way. Being with her brought a strange kind of relief. I can easily share my thoughts in front of her without thinking about her judgment of me. Though I have never been in a friendship, I believe she has the potential to be one.

Upon noticing her serene expression, I grinned and left for the workplace.

I am physically and mentally exhausted and don't feel like working today, but I have to. Great opportunities often come with great responsibilities. My father gave me this business seven years ago to test my abilities. It has taken me all hours of the day and night to get here.

Years ago, Dad severed all relations with me. However, at my grandmother's urging, he decided to give me this firm for three years so I could prove my worth. He paid me a salary when I first started working for him, but to the outside world, I was the CEO of this business. There's a secret between me and my father that no one knows.

After three years, I had saved up enough money to buy out my dad's business. My behavior severely wounded my dad's pride, but he couldn't refuse my offer because I paid five times the company's true value.

Today, Sara's gaze gave me a hint of envy for my successful life. I think she was also confused by the brightness of this fake showoff. Everything has a cost, so we must pay ourselves to obtain what we desire in life.

The abrupt ringing of my phone caused my mental bubble to collapse. The sight of the caller ID on my screen sent shivers down my spine. Sweat is beading on my forehead. I slammed on the emergency brake to bring my car to a stop, as I had lost control of my mind. Every vehicle in my rearview mirror halted and started honking behind me.

My body started to get numb. I attempted to start my car, but I was unable to turn on the engine. My thoughts turned to my early years as soon as I saw her caller ID.

Why is she calling me now?

What does she want from me now?

I remained motionless until her number vanished from my phone's display. The cars behind me kept honking, so I had to move to make room for them. I called my driver's number to pick me up from my place.

The unexpected call from Aunt Jerry had disrupted my concentration, so I attempted to get back to work.

Did she learn about my marriage with Sara? No, that is not possible. I took every safety measure to keep this secret from her. Then why did she call me?

"Mr. Finge, what do you think of our new project?" Upon hearing the marketing head's voice, I broke my reverie.

"Yes, that's good." I replied without knowing about his new market approach.

I headed for my office once the meeting was over. I want to divert my attention from my aunt.

"You look exhausted, Mr. Finge. Would you like to have something?" With a stack of folders in her hand, Selena came into my office.

"No, please cancel all of my meetings for today. I don't want anything." I took a deep breath to release my tiredness.

"Would you like a body massage, Mr. Finge?" With eyes full of desire, she gazed at me.

"It's a good idea. I want a body massage to help me relax." I liked her idea.

"I would be delighted to give you a massage, Mr. Finge." She gave her lower lips a seductive bite.

I don't want to get a massage from her. A sensation of Sara's tender touch would be wonderful. Just the thought of her sparked a new surge of enthusiasm in my mind.

"Selena, I am fine. Please leave me alone and make sure no one disturbs me." I gave her firm instructions.

"All right, Mr. Finge." She looked at me with sadness. I can see the disappointment in her eyes because I haven't granted her wishes for the past month.

However, since Sara entered my life, I have no desire to spend time with any other woman. Sara is the sole object of my lust. I stopped being interested in the other women. I wasn't interested in having sex with any of them, even after they approached me.

To see how she was spending her alone time, I turned on the CCTV. Seeing her in the backyard, arranging flowers in a vase, brought a smile to my face. She was busy cleaning the backyard lawn; after that, she unlocked the storage room and removed many old furniture and other items.

Exactly what is she attempting to accomplish?

With curiosity, I looked at her every activity.

She gave the worn-out sofa a fresh coat of paint. Her unique use of the discarded furniture surprised me. I had assumed that her sole gift was putting her emotions on paper, but it turns out that she is also an expert at making something fresh out of trash.

Over time, I discovered this woman possesses an abundance of hidden talents. I wanted to be there with her to experience painting antique furniture. My mother forbade me from playing with trash when I was a child, even though I always wanted to do these kinds of things.

I couldn't resist the opportunity to enjoy painting the junk, and she also needed my assistance in moving the heavy furniture, so I grabbed my car keys and drove towards the Finge Mansion. As I saw her having fun making something new out of old materials, a long-suppressed childhood desire that had been hidden behind a mountain of secrets and suffering from my past began to stir.