It's up to you to change things

Eniz left a while later, right after I discovered that one of the guys I had seen in the living room with Callahan was his husband. Zach, I think he said his name was. A flicker of warmth washed over me at the thought of their love; at least someone was happy in their marriage.

It just left me to wander this huge house, they were so many rooms. I'm pretty sure I got lost twice but somehow I found my way back to the room or the kitchen. I passed some of the workers who either gave me a sympathetic look or avoided my eyes all together. I didn't get why, I didn't get anything about this life. Wasn't this supposed to be another chance? Why did it feel as much as a burden as my past life.

I huffed. I hated this, I really did. Maybe I should have just chosen to die.

Evening approached fast and soon the nice old lady from earlier was leading me to dining room to have my dinner. There was a whole line of servers waiting for my by the table and once I sat down, the food was served and they left.

Sitting alone on this long table, adorned with different food. They all looked delicious and appetizing but I didn't have the stomach for any of it. It all felt too much.

I managed to stomach a bit of food but then I was standing up and going upstairs, ignoring the sad looks the maids who had been on standby ready to tend to my every need gave me. How did Oliver do this? How did he stay in this house, in this life that felt like loneliness was molded into it, like it was made for nothing but sadness.

I made my way to the room and crawled under the blanket ready to go to sleep and just forget about the day, but then my gaze fell on the radio clock on my nightstand. Almost midnight. Callahan still wasn’t back.

I swallowed, leaning back against the headboard, my thoughts swirling chaotically in my mind. I hated how much that worried me, how much it bothered me. Lingering feelings from my past life then. I might have a new life, a new name and everything but the lingering pain from my past life was still there. The lingering memories of still standing by the window like a child, hoping my brother came back was still there.

I sighed drawing my knees to myself and hugging them. I hated this feeling.

Just as I was spiraling deeper into my thoughts, the door flung open, and Callahan walked in. I startled, glaring at him.

He shrugged off his suit jacket and turned to face me, his expression unreadable.

“Why are you glaring at me like that?” he asked, eyebrow raised in challenge.

“It’s almost midnight! Where have you been?” I shot back.

He simply shrugged again. “Work.”

“Work?” I scoffed, disbelief dripping from my words as I stood up from the bed and marched toward him. “Is this really how you treat me? You leave for work early and come back late—this is how you treat your husband?”

For a moment, shock flickered across his face, but it vanished just as quickly, replaced by a cold indifference that chilled me to the bone.

“Is there any other way I’m supposed to behave towards you? This is our marriage. Money, luxury, silence, no question asked. So tell me why I should act any differently.”

My heart sank at his words. “H—How can you say that? How can you-"

Callahan scoffed again, his voice dripping with contempt. “I’ve always treated you this way. You never complained before—so why start now?”

I felt a surge of anger mixed with despair boiling inside me. Oliver, you treated Oliver this way. Not me!

“Well, I’m done being treated this way!” My voice rose higher than I intended, and suddenly my head throbbed painfully as if all the air had been knocked out of my lungs.

Just as my legs began to give way, Callahan's hands shot out, wrapping around my waist and steadying me. I leaned against him, feeling both grateful and infuriated at the same time as he led me gently to the bed.

“You're not in a good condition,” he said softly, almost tenderly now surprising me. “Rest; I'll get you some water.” With that, he turned and left the room.

As soon as he was gone, I sat up on the bed, fists clenched tightly on my legs. “I don’t get it, Leon,” I whispered into the empty space around me. “Isn’t this life supposed to be better than my old one? Easier? It all feels so... suffocatingly familiar.” Leaning back against the headboard, a deep sigh escaped my lips. “Why did I accept this program? Death would have been easier.”

A voice startled me from behind—the familiar presence of Leon materialized out of nowhere. “It was never stated that it’s going to be easy,” Leon said calmly.

“What the hell?! I told you not to do that!” My heart raced at his sudden appearance.

Leon sighed heavily, almost sadly. “Royalty, when Oliver lived this life, he endured silently—even when Callahan hurt him with words or actions. That was Oliver’s choice; now it’s your life, Royalty. You have to change it and live it your way.”

I felt overwhelmed by Leon's words.

“I told you to rest,” Callahan said as he walked back into the room with a glass of water in hand.

There was an edge of concern in his tone that only added to my confusion. And I wanted to ask, if he could be this gentle then why was he so cold? So cruel?

“You’re never this stubborn,” he remarked as he approached me and extended his arm with the glass. “Take it.”

I accepted it reluctantly but couldn’t shake off the tension hanging between us like a heavy fog. “I’m going to take a shower,” he declared before disappearing into the en suite bathroom.

As silence enveloped me once more, Leon's voice echoed softly in my mind: “It’s up to you to change things, Royalty; only you can do that now.”

Dropping the glass onto the bedside table, I lay back down.