7 The world won't wait for you

~Davis Mansion~

It's been a few weeks since Davis return to the mansion but the ones peaceful and happy home had transformed into a home of fear where everyone had to thread cautiously. In the kitchen, a group of maids huddled together, their whispers filled with unease. Their faces apprehensive with anxiety etched into their expressions, as they spoke in hushed tones about the unpredictable temper of their boss that could flare into violence in an instant.

"Did you see him today? He threw a glass at the wall when the gardener asked about the new flowers," one said, her voice trembling.

"He's terrifying," another whispered. "I heard he shouted at Henry again this morning."

"He wasn't like this before the accident," the cook said softly, glancing toward the study. "He's hurting."

"That doesn't mean we're not," the first maid muttered.

"He should at least consider that his situation isn't our making", another chimed.

Ethan standing at the door was furious "Are you ready to leave?", he asked with his tone icy. The maids were startled and quietly bowed their heads in submission. "We are sorry sir", they echoed.

Ethan issued a stern before he turned on his heel towards the study —Davis sanctuary since his return.

It's been weeks since Davis returned to this home but he has become an unrecognizable man from who he had once been. He had transformed into someone irritable and bitter. His frustrations boiled all over erupting unpredictably as it creates a tense atmosphere that seeped into every corner of the house.

Despite the exquisite furnishings and serene environment, the house now feels more depressing than ever. Every member of the house avoids Davis as plague while they ensure to work with little or no noise to attract his attention and avoid his fury and will occasionally gather in the kitchen to talk about the day.

Even Henry, his butler had learnt to avoid situations that will implicate him further and will always go through Ethan who is more of their saviour to pass across information or request for instructions.

Davis sat in his study, an empty glass on the desk in front of him as he gaze into the blank void oblivious of his surroundings.

Ethan entered without knocking, a folder in hand. "You missed a call from Elder Allen. He wants an update on—"

"I don't care what he wants!" Davis snapped, his voice sharp enough that Henry, who stood in the doorway flinched.

Ethan sighed, placing the folder on the desk. "You can't keep ignoring him, Davis. You still have to acknowledge him and make use of his influence"

Davis's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Ethan. "Influence?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What influence? Look around, Ethan. I'm a cripple sitting in a house that feels more like a tomb than a home discarded by my family like yesterday's trash, and you're telling me to use theirinfluence?"

Henry who had come to serve his meal cleared his throat from the doorway. "Sir, would you like me to—"

"Leave!" Davis barked, slamming his hand down on the desk. "All of you, just leave me alone!" His voice boomed.

Henry hesitated for a moment, glancing at Ethan, who nodded subtly. The butler stepped back and disappeared down the hall, his footsteps fading into silence.

Ethan folded his arms across his chest as , leaned against the wall. "You don't scare me, you know. You can shout, throw things, and lock yourself in this mansion but don't bother making me go."

"Why?" Davis asked, his voice almost a whisper. His expression softened briefly, revealing the exhaustion behind his anger. "Why are you still here, Ethan? Everyone else has left."

Ethan sighed lightly, his gaze unwavering. "Because you're my friend. And unlike the others, I don't turn my back on people when they're at their lowest, that doesn't mean I can't leave but until then."

Davis let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Friend? That's generous. I'm a broken man that needs a miracle, Ethan."

Ethan looked at him and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Then maybe it's time you stopped wallowing and start fighting for one."

Davis's eyes darkened "Fight for what? When there's nothing left that is worth fighting for."

Ethan fixed his gaze on him and in a steady voice "Then find something. Because this," he gestured around the room, "this isn't living, Davis and you know it."

The two men stared at each other for a long moment, the tension thick. Davis finally looked away, his expression a mix of frustration and helplessness

He has nothing to fall back on. The only thing which might have given him a choice to fight back was his fiancee but then it is impossible. She has chosen her path and her forever.

"You're just going to let them win, then?" Ethan broke the silence, his voice sharp with frustration. Desmond, Aaron… all of them. You're handing everything over without even putting up a little fight? Are you that weak?"

Davis's gaze didn't waver from the distance he is staring at. "It's not handing over when everything is already gone," he muttered, his tone devoid of emotion. "What's left for me to fight for?"

"Your dignity, for starters!" Ethan shot back, his frustration glaring. He had tried talking to Davis severally but at the end of the day, he will ignore it. Severally he had tried to make him see reasons but he is stuck in the past. "You were Davis Allen, the man people feared and respected. Now you're—" He hesitated, biting back the words, to organize a nice choice of word that wouldn't be offensive and hurtful.

Davis let out a bitter laugh. "Go ahead. Say it. I'm nothing. A cripple. A shadow of the man I was."

"You're not nothing!" Ethan snapped, his anger glowing "You're acting like nothing because you've convinced yourself you've lost. But you haven't. Desmond may think he's won, but he hasn't buried you yet —or has he?"

Davis finally turned to look at him, his eyes dull and lifeless. "You don't get it, Ethan. Do you know how humiliating it is to be written out of your own story?"

Ethan shook his head, his jaw tightening. "No, I don't. But I know that sitting here wallowing in self-pity won't rewrite that story. You're giving them exactly what they want."

"And what do you expect me to do? Show up at the company in this chair and demand my position back? I'd be a laughingstock. I already am."

Ethan leaned on the desk his eyes blazing with rage, he couldn't help but wonder if Davis brain circuit was tampered with. "So what if they laugh? Let them or —are you the first man to be a cripple? But at least you'd be doing something rather than sit in this house, drinknyourself into oblivion, pushing everyone away—this isn't you."

Davis's expression hardened. "Ethan, I don't even know who I am."

Ethan sighed as his tone softened, but the determination in his tone didn't waver. "I know exactly who you are. You're Davis Allen, the man who worked hard to make his own name. The man who inspired loyalty in people like me because you refused to back down from a challenge. That man is still in there somewhere, and I'm not leaving until I see him again."

Davis turned his head away, his jaw tightening. "That man died the day of the accident. All that's left is this… this broken version of him. And no amount of pep talks from you is going to change that."

Ethan stood, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "You're impossible, you know that? I'm trying to help you, but you're so focused on what you've lost that you can't see what you still have."

"And what is that?" Davis snapped, his voice rising. "What do I have, Ethan? Tell me. Because from where I'm sitting—literally—I have nothing."

"Really? But yet you have me!" Ethan shot back, his voice booming. "You have someone who still believes in you when you've given up on yourself.

Davis stared at him in silence while Ethan hoped that may be finally he will realize the truth of his existence but the next moment his body felt cold at Davis voice "You're wasting your time, Ethan. I'm not worth it."

Ethan's expression softened, though his frustration lingered. "You're worth it, whether you see it or not. And until you do, I'll be here. Someone has to remind you of the man you used to be and lest I forget —I am signing you up psychological counseling."

Davis looked away, his emotions all over the place as his eyes clouded with unshed tears he refused to let fall. The weight of his own despair was crushing, and no matter how much Ethan tried, he couldn't see a way out of the darkness.

Ethan sighed, stepping back. "Fine. Keep wallowing. But know this: the world won't wait for you to get up. If you don't fight for yourself, no one else will."

He turned and walked toward the door, pausing just before leaving. "You don't have to win today, Davis. But at least think about what losing forever looks like."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Davis alone in the suffocating silence of the study. It seems as though Ethan had never said this much.