They say love makes you do crazy things...but what's crazier than falling for the forbidden?
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Mallory Wright is a 22-year-old junior at her dream and one of the best universities in S...
Like the wind that cries I can feel you in the night A distant lullaby Underneath the shattered sky Just hold on. It won't be long • Ruelle •<>•
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I lean back in my seat, idly twirling my pen as I listen to Catherine walk James and me through the proposal from our new client, making sure to cover every detail to avoid any misunderstandings.
This discussion in my office has been dragging on, and if I'm completely honest, I'm feeling quite bored. I keep getting distracted, thinking about what painting to work on next.
Managing the role of vice president at my father's company while pursuing my passion for art has proven to be more demanding than I had expected.
My dad didn't seem to care about my feelings regarding the position he gave me. In his opinion, he was doing me a favour by allowing me to work for him, especially after what happened to Eric.
Dad had been preparing Eric to assume this position since he was older, more capable, and seemed to possess more knowledge about the work than I did. Sadly, Dad's hopes of Eric taking the reins of his company one day were shattered when he found out about his passing.
It was another tragic event for our family, as we grieved the loss of Eric. Dad, in particular, struggled to come to terms with the loss of his favourite child. His grief caused him to lose his usual drive and passion, leaving us feeling like we had lost him as well.
However, after months of grieving, he got back on his feet and somehow was out to get me. He started accusing me of Eric's passing which in all honesty, he was right. It was my fault that Eric died. It was all my fault.
It wasn't long after Erin joined him in accusing me of all the misfortunes that had happened in our family. Being in my late teens, I felt so alone and miserable with no shoulder to lean on.
Even though James was a constant presence in my life, the harsh words and treatment that had been thrown at me by my father and my sister overpowered the kindness and affection that James wrapped me up in. His kindness was in no way comparable to the darkness that was surrounding me, tormenting me and degrading me every second of the day.
After enduring relentless accusations and guilt-tripping, I finally relented and agreed to take over Eric's position for my father. It seemed like I had no other choice. According to Dad, it was my responsibility, my consequence for Eric's death. He claimed that if Eric were alive, he wouldn't have been so hard on me about work, and perhaps I could have pursued my love for art, although I highly doubt that considering his aversion to it.
