Fate's Unwritten Path

Chapter Ten

Sasha's POV:

A week later...

Sunday night came as a relief and a torment all at once. I had managed to win all my cases, but the stress had left me utterly spent. As I sank into the couch, a wave of exhaustion and emotional overload hit me hard. Scooby was curled up in my bedroom, leaving me alone in the living room, and the silence was both soothing and oppressive.

My mind raced with all the work that still awaited me, and the strain of the past week crashed over me like a tidal wave. I pulled out my phone, my hands shaking as I dialed my office number to call off work for the next two days. I needed time to recover, to breathe. I scheduled an appointment with my therapist for Tuesday, hoping to get my medication refilled by Friday.

The next morning, I kept my phone on Do Not Disturb. I had no energy to deal with calls or messages. Instead, I stayed in bed, ordering food and allowing myself to wallow in the depression that had settled over me. Scooby was at my sister's house, playing with her nephew, which meant I had the apartment to myself.

The day dragged on, and I felt a hollow sense of detachment. I needed this break, but it only deepened my sense of isolation. I lay in bed, watching the ceiling and trying to shut out the world.

Tuesday arrived, and I reluctantly dragged myself to my therapist's office. I avoided mentioning Lucas during our session. The conversation focused on my overwhelming stress and the need for medication adjustment. I left feeling slightly better, but the relief was temporary. My medication wouldn't be ready until Friday, and my head was still a tangled mess of anxiety and worry.

As I walked home, I hoped to find some solace. But as I rounded a corner, I was startled to see Lucas waiting for me in a dark alley. His expression was a mask of anger and frustration.

"Sasha," he snapped, grabbing my arm and pulling me into the alley. His grip was firm, and his gaze was cold. "You haven't answered my calls for two days. What the hell is going on?"

I tried to steady my breathing, my heart racing at his aggressive stance. "I—I've been dealing with personal issues," I stammered. "I'll get back to work tomorrow. I promise."

Lucas's eyes flared with impatience. "Personal issues? My sister and one of my top guys are sitting in a jail cell, and you're telling me you've been ignoring me because of personal issues?"

He pulled out his gun, pointing it at the ground but making its presence known. The sight of the weapon sent a jolt of panic through me. My past trauma with guns and aggressive confrontations surged to the surface, making it hard to think clearly.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I'm really sorry. I just needed a break."

Lucas didn't seem to care for my apology. His face was set in a scowl. "You'd better get your act together and handle those cases. If you don't, there will be consequences."

Before I could respond, he stormed off, leaving me standing there, shaking. I hurried home, feeling like the weight of the world was crashing down on me. I burst through the door of my apartment, tears streaming down my face as I stumbled inside.

Scooby was still at my sister's house, and the emptiness of the apartment felt even more profound without him. I sank onto the couch, the tears coming harder now. The confrontation with Lucas had triggered my old fears and anxieties, and I felt utterly overwhelmed.

I cried myself to sleep that night, the emotional and physical exhaustion finally taking its toll.

Lucas's POV:

I stood outside Sasha's apartment building, trying to shake off the lingering irritation from our confrontation. I had pushed her hard, but my frustration with the situation was palpable. My sister and my hacker had been in jail for nearly three days now, and it was eating away at me.

As I walked away from Sasha's building, I felt a twinge of guilt for the way I'd treated her. She looked genuinely shaken, and I knew that my aggressive approach might have been over the line. But the worry for my sister and the urgency of the situation left little room for compassion.

I made my way to a private spot in a nearby bar, the dim lighting and quiet atmosphere offering a temporary refuge from the storm in my mind. I poured myself a glass of whiskey and downed it quickly, hoping the burn would dull the anxiety gnawing at me.

The whiskey didn't provide much relief. I was too focused on the problems at hand, too worried about how to resolve the mess my sister and my hacker were in. My frustration with Sasha's delay mixed with my guilt over the harsh way I'd confronted her, making it hard to find any peace.

I took another swig, feeling the alcohol warm my insides but doing little to ease the turmoil inside my head. The week had been unbearable, and the weight of responsibility was heavy on my shoulders.

As I finished the bottle, I sat in the darkened corner, trying to drown my troubles in whiskey. The problems with my sister and the pressure to keep everything under control loomed large. I knew I needed to find a solution, but for now, all I could do was drink and hope that the answers would come soon.

The night wore on, and I remained lost in thought, the whiskey offered only a fleeting escape from the relentless stress that defined my days.