Serse Of Belonging
Sense Of Belonging
“You did this?” I asked, still in disbelief at the sight in front of me.
them an
“Well, I didn’t make it myself,” Emerson replied with a shrug. “I just gave idea of the office you wanted, the colours you loved, and let them pick a design to surprise you. So, tell me… do you like it?”
“Do I like it?” I spun around, taking in the entire room. “I love it! You know how much I love orange and purple, my favourite colours,
“just like the woman,” he teased with a wink.
I smiled at him, warmth spreading through me. “I love it,” I said, as my fingers trailed over the bookcases and the desk. There was something about the way it had been put together–stylish, but also cosy and inviting.
I walked towards the large window and looked outside. The lush garden stretched out before me, vibrant with greenery and flowers, the sunlight filtering through the trees. It was breathtaking.
“It’s amazing,” I said, my voice soft, turning to face him. “I absolutely love it.
“That’s all I wanted,” Emerson said, stepping closer and full of affection. “To see the smile on your face after the day you had.”
I smiled up at him, gratitude filling me. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a sigh. “At this point, my life finally has what I’ve been longing for. Now that I have what I wanted, my heart is at peace.” I smiled at Emerson, but there was still so much left unspoken.
“I forgot…I still have some things to do upstairs,” Emerson suddenly added.
Emerson gently took my hand, guiding me behind the table down into the office. chair, his touch slow and deliberate.
“How does it feel?” he asked, his voice soft as his fingers traced along my arm.
“It feels… amazing,” I replied, trying not to laugh as he led me around the office, playfully guiding me behind the desk.
“More than the corner office?” He teased.
“More than the best office in the building. ‘The office.”
He leaned down, tapping my nose with a smile. “Don’t talk about “The office, just
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Sense Of Belonging
enjoy your space. I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”
I nodded and watched as he left.
Turning around in my chair, I spun in slow circles, a small grin on my face. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I truly belonged somewhere. When I lived with Eric, he was the one that bought the house. It always felt as if I was always trying to prove myself…. working hard just to feel deserving like I had to earn my place.
But here, with Emerson, he made me feel cherished and wanted. I had a sense of belonging.
I soaked in the quiet of the room, the soft hum of life outside the window, the gentle scenery. Everything felt right.
But as I turned back towards the desk, something caught my eye. A faint mark at the comer of the table. I dusted off the powder as I squinted, leaning in closer. This was supposed to be a brand–new desk, according to Emerson. But there was definitely something scratched into the surface.
My fingers ran over the edge. The closer I looked, the clearer the letters became.
B…I…T…C…H.
“Is that bitch?” I asked aloud.
Someone had scratched it into the table in small, capital letters.
I sat back, stunned, my mind racing. Did someone really carve this into my desk? Was this meant for me? The act felt so petty, so childish. Who would even think to do something like this?
I stared at the word for a long moment, feeling unease creep into the back of my mind. Someone had gone out of their way to send me a message, and now I had to figure out who.
I tried to keep my disappointment in check, but now the reality was sinking in: I had an enemy in the house. Someone was sending a clear message that they didn’t want me here. It felt ridiculous, childish, even…. but the anger started boiling inside me.
I stormed out of the room, looking for Emerson. I checked his office first, only to find it empty. My frustration grew as I hurried through the halls, searching for him. Where could he be? Did he leave?
As I made a move to go outside, I found Thomas instead.
“Thomas, have you seen Emerson?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
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Sense Of Belonging
“He’s outside in the back garden, talking to Madeline. Would you like me to tell him you are looking for him?” Thomas replied with his usual calm.
“That’s okay. I’ll go see him there.” I answer distractedly.
‘Of course, he is,‘ I thought, a bitter edge creeping into my mind.
There seemed to be something more than just casual conversations between them lately, and after everything from this morning, it only added fuel to my anger. I headed towards the back garden filled with determination/
On my way, I passed through the kitchen, where Rose, the housekeeper, was preparing something. She glanced at me with a look of disdain, her lips pressed tightly together before she spoke.
“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone cold.
“No, I’m looking for Emerson and Madeline. They’re in the back garden, right?” I muttered, ready to keep moving.
But then, Rose’s voice stopped me in my tracks.
“I saw the news today,” she said, her words laced with judgment.
I turned slightly, unsure what she was getting at.
“That was quite the headline,” she continued. “Causing rifts between father and son, trying to take the company away from Eric. Don’t you have any shame? Don’t you have any sense of dignity about what you’re doing?” She paused, shaking her head with a sneer.
“Poor Eric, I never understood what she saw in you. But Emerson… Emerson deserves to be with someone who genuinely loves him. Someone he has a connection. with… someone who will grow old with him in peace. Why did you marry him, huh? Was it for the power? The money? Don’t you have any shame? That man used to be your uncle, practically a father to you.”
-I could feel my blood boil as she spoke, each word hitting harder than the last. I bit
my lip, struggling to keep my composure.
I had been fuming since finding that scratch on my desk, and now, being confronted
like this was almost too much to bear.
The words were on the tip of my
tongue, ready to fire her on the spot, but before I could let them out, a voice cut through the tension behind me.
Sense Of Belongina
“Rose, that’s enough!”
