Neptune

Chapter 19 | The Message

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of birds chirping. I get up from my bed and open the curtain to enjoy the beautiful view of the garden—I can see the swimming pool too from where I'm standing.

Gosh, this house is wonderful—if only the owner was as amazing as it is.

I step out of my room, still in my pajamas. It's a wonder that Ms. Langston didn't wake me up to have breakfast together with Luke or Aiden.

I want to see the boy again to make up for what happened yesterday—I should have cared about his feelings more.

When I arrive at the dining table, I see my breakfast already prepared, but Luke and Aiden are nowhere to be found.

"They went earlier because Aiden has an early extracurricular activity in his school today." Ms. Langston appears from the kitchen with a smile on her face, startling me.

I glance at the clock on the wall and wonder whether I woke up that late, then I realize that it has been a long time since I had the privilege to get enough sleep that I might have gotten carried away.

It's amazing that I don't have to wake up in panic due to the hectic schedules of my tour, performances or practice.

Sighing, I settle at the table before eating the pancakes and omelets that Ms. Langston has prepared for me.

"Does Luke always send Aiden to school before he goes to work?" I ask.

"Every single day," Ms. Langston says. "When he's not on a business trip."

Well, that's surprising. I thought that a busy businessman like him would barely have enough time to have that kind of routine, since there might always be something urgent from the office.

My phone buzzes on the table, and I look at it, only to find a text from Luke.

If you're going to catch up with your friends today, don't mention Aiden.

He's not very fond of being exposed.

This applies to your team too.

That's too bad. Meeting Aiden is the only wonderful thing about my newly married life that I can't wait to share with the people close to me, but I note Luke's warning in my head.

Even though I trust my team, word can travel fast around the people in my industry. And the next thing I know people will search Luke's nephew on the internet, wondering about the boy who's living with us.

After finishing my yummy breakfast, I thank Ms. Langston and decide to go to the music room to try the piano. When I'm almost there, I'm surprised to find that courier staff are placing packages into the room with the help of the house security guards.

My eyes widen as I see my old guitar, books and music folders scattered. "What's happening?" I ask one of the staff members.

"Good morning, Mrs. Klein. We're from CPI Logistics," he introduces himself. "You have a package from LA, sent by Mrs. Morgan Castillo. We were asked to deliver these items to your new house."

My mouth drops open as I look around again at my old stuff. So, Morgan has sent away all my belongings that were still in her house—she doesn't want to see anything related to me anymore. My heart sinks at the thought of that.

"Mrs. Klein, where do you want to put these?" a maid asks me, gesturing with the books in her hands, but I'm still dumbfounded, still trying to compose myself. "Should I put them inside the shelves?" she offers in a soft tone.

After a few seconds, I nod. "Yeah," I rasp. "Just put them there."

I never thought that I would feel so crushed, as if Morgan has just slapped me in the face by letting me know that she's throwing away all my stuff from her house, just like that.

Yes, I did leave some of my belongings at her house—most of them are things I owned when I was a teenager. Years ago, she didn't let me bring all of them to my house in LA, and I thought that she kept them because they were memorable, just like a mother would keep her child's first drawing.

Now, I feel stupid.

Now, I know that she doesn't want to look at or be reminded of the first lyrics I wrote, the first melody I composed or the music notes I drafted when I was in high school, which are all in these scattered books and sheets.

I bite my lower lip, feeling agitated, my fists clenched tight on my sides.

*

Later in the afternoon, I lie on my bed, staring at Aiden's painting hung on my bedroom wall—I asked the housemaids to frame it and hang it there yesterday.

Gazing at his beautiful and heartwarming creation brightens me up when I feel lonely.

But then the thought of what Morgan did today makes my mind restless again. I can't help but think that she really wants to kick me out of her life.

After all, I've kicked her first, even though I did it only in terms of her profession.

What did I expect? She didn't even come to my wedding.

My eyes dart to my phone lying on my nightstand. I haven't gathered the courage to check all the voice messages she left when I didn't answer any of her calls before my wedding.

Taking a deep breath, I grab my phone and decide to check them now. I press the button to hear them, putting my phone on my ear. But what I hear makes me regret my decision in an instant.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Her harsh tone echoes in my ear. "Did you think that you could just kick me out like this? Is this what you do to me after I made you who you are?"

My hand shakes as I hold the phone. I should end this message, but I just can't bring myself to do so.

"You think you're so smart, huh?" she hisses, her voice laced with venom. "No matter how great you think you are, you'll never overpower me. You're nothing without me, Cassie. Nothing."

My head is spinning. I shouldn't let her words dictate who I am. However, it sounds so true that I feel nauseated.

"Did you think firing me was your best decision?" she hollers. "Fuck you. This is the worst decision that has ever crossed your fucking stupid brain."

The lump in my throat is getting bigger.

"Mark my words, Cassie," Morgan threatens. "You will regret this. You will lose everything you've been working hard for. Because without me, you're just trash. And people throw trash away. The world will trash you in no time."

My trembling hand can't hold the phone anymore, and it drops onto my bed, her voice still echoing, fading out.

I stare blankly at the wall ahead, feeling the same amount of heartbreak and fear consuming me. I don't know how many voice messages Morgan has left for me, but the more I listen to them, the further my sanity leaves me.