Between Us

Chapter 11 : Under the Starlit Sky

In the days that followed, I found myself immersed in my studies, throwing myself into university work with a fervor I hadn't felt before. Early mornings and late nights became the norm as I buried myself in textbooks and lectures, seeking solace in the routine of academia. With Heidi and Tina by my side, the library became a second home, a sanctuary where I could escape the turmoil that had engulfed my life.

But amidst the sea of textbooks and lectures, there was a void-a nagging sense of emptiness that lingered in the absence of Engfa. Days passed without so much as a glimpse of her in the house or beyond its walls, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of unease at her sudden disappearance from my life.

Driven by a sense of longing and curiosity, I made my way to the basement, where Engfa's room lay dormant. Knocking on the door yielded no response, and with a heavy heart, I pushed it open to find an eerily empty and immaculate space.

I sighed heavily as I made my way back upstairs, my mind consumed with thoughts of Engfa. Sarah crossed paths with me in the hallway, and I couldn't help but address the elephant in the room.

"Sarah, did you really fire Engfa?" I asked, my voice tinged with concern.

She met my gaze with a troubled expression, her eyes betraying the conflict within. "Your dad left me no choice, Charlotte. He was adamant about it," she explained, her voice laced with reluctance.

"But Engfa didn't do anything wrong," I protested, feeling a surge of frustration. "You have to talk to Dad, Sarah. She really needed this job."

Sarah sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'll see what I can do," she relented, her words offering a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty.

I sat at the dinner table with my parents, my head bowed, absently poking at my food. My father, as usual, dominated the conversation with talk of business-numbers, negotiations, deals. My temples throbbed with the strain of it all; it felt like I couldn't escape the constant barrage of business talk, not even at home. I rolled my eyes discreetly whenever my father launched into one of his monologues, a reflexive gesture born from years of enduring these tedious discussions.

"And tomorrow," my father announced, his tone as authoritative as ever, "we're having dinner with the Martinez family."

"Do I really have to be there?" I muttered, my tone laced with resignation.

My father wiped his mouth with a napkin and fixed his stern gaze on me. "Yes, Charlotte," he said, his tone brooking no argument. "It will be interesting for you to learn a bit more about our business dynamics. Moreover, if I can secure the Martinez family's investment in our company, it would be a major achievement. I've been hoping for this opportunity for a long time, and this dinner is the perfect chance to convince them."

I sighed again, the weight of his expectations pressing down on me. "But why do I have to be there? Can't you handle it on your own?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.

My father's expression hardened. "Charlotte, it's important for you to be involved in these matters. One day, you'll be responsible for this company, and you need to understand every aspect of it. Besides, your presence will show the Martinez family that we are a united front, and it might help to sway their decision."

I looked down at my plate, feeling trapped. The thought of sitting through a formal dinner, playing the role of the dutiful daughter while trying to impress the Martinez family, was exhausting. But there was no arguing with my father when he was in this mode. I could already feel the headache building, knowing tomorrow was going to be another long, grueling day.

He then looked up from his meal and asked, "Did you enjoy your dinner with Mew the other day, Charlotte? How did it go?"

I nodded absentmindedly, poking at my food. "It was fine," I muttered, hoping to end the conversation there.