Guard of heart

The knot

I was deep into tidying Mr. Wilkins' desk, determined to make the space pristine for his eventual return. After three months of working by his side, I had come to appreciate the small details that made his office uniquely his. Papers, files, and miscellaneous items were scattered across his polished mahogany desk, remnants of a busy few weeks. As I organized the clutter, I imagined Mr. Wilkins walking back into a perfectly arranged workspace, and I hoped he would appreciate the effort. *He better not find a single paper out of place,* I thought with a small smile.

My hands worked methodically, placing documents into neat stacks and arranging pens and paperweights. As I dusted off the framed photograph on his desk, I paused, captivated by the image it held. The photo featured Mr. Wilkins flanked by two young men—his sons, I presumed. The older son, probably around twenty, had a serious, reserved expression. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his posture conveyed a sense of responsibility. The younger son, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, stood on Mr. Wilkins’ other side. His easy smile and casual stance hinted at a more relaxed personality. *Wow, looks like Mr. Wilkins has a softer side too,* I mused.

It struck me that, in all the time I’d worked for Mr. Wilkins, he had never mentioned his sons. *What are they like?* I wondered, gently wiping the glass frame and putting it back in place. *He’s always been so focused on work. I hope they have a close bond.*

The photo made me think about how Mr. Wilkins had been away for the past two weeks, attending his youngest son’s graduation at the music university in Switzerland. It was a milestone event, and I imagined it must have been an important moment for him. Despite the steady stream of tasks and responsibilities filling my days, there was something oddly comforting about knowing he was experiencing a proud moment with his family.

After arranging the photo back on the desk, I continued to clean up. The office was starting to look immaculate. I tidied the papers, organized the drawers, and polished the desk’s surface until it gleamed. *If only tidying up could solve all problems,* I thought with a chuckle.

As I worked, my mind wandered to the news that Mr. Wilkins was expected back soon. *I hope everything went well at the graduation. It’s been a while since he’s been away, and the office feels quieter without him.* The adjustment to his absence hadn’t been easy. The mansion office, while more comfortable and spacious, lacked the vibrant aura Mr. Wilkins brought with him.

I finished organizing Mr. Wilkins' desk and took a moment to sit by the window, enjoying the view of the expansive gardens outside. The tranquility of the scene was a stark contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind.

As I looked out at the well-kept landscape, my thoughts turned to my own family. It had been a while since I had seen them, and I couldn't help but miss them more now. My elder sister had given up so much for us, working tirelessly in a bakery factory to ensure I could have opportunities she never had. Her sacrifices had not gone unnoticed, but the weight of her childhood lost to labor always lingered in my heart. *She deserves a medal for all she's done,* I thought, wiping a tear that had escaped.

The photograph on Mr. Wilkins' desk, with him and his two sons, reminded me of how my father had been there for me, even if his presence had been limited in recent years. After an accident two decades ago, he had been confined to a wheelchair, but his spirit remained strong. I recalled his pride on the day I graduated—his face beaming with joy and a glimmer of tears in his eyes. The memory was bittersweet, mingling with my current sense of longing and nostalgia. *If only he could see me now, all grown up and working for the business tycoon,Samuel wilkins*

I remembered the pride my sister felt when I walked across the stage at graduation, knowing how hard she had worked to support me. The picture of Mr. Wilkins with his sons made me think of the family moments they must share, and I felt a pang of homesickness.

As I wiped a tear from my cheek, I quickly gathered myself and returned to work. *No more moping around, Elara. There’s work to be done.* The office needed to be in perfect order, and I wanted to ensure Mr. Wilkins would appreciate the effort when he returned. I was just about to type an email when my phone rang, jolting me from my thoughts. It was Mr. John, Mr. Wilkins’ head of security.

I answered the call, trying to maintain my composure. “Hello, this is Elara.”

“Ms. Hailsin,” Mr. John’s voice was flat and formal, devoid of any inflection. “This is Mr. John speaking.”

“Yes, Mr. John?” I replied, attempting to sound calm even though my heart was racing.

“I am calling to inform you of a recent development concerning Mr. Wilkins,” he began, his tone consistent and professional. “Earlier today, Mr. Wilkins faced a critical situation and is currently hospitalized.”

My heart skipped a beat. *Hospitalized? Oh no.* “Hospitalized? Is he alright?”

“His condition is stable but requires him to remain in the hospital for an undetermined period,” Mr. John continued. “In light of this, Mr. Wilkins has instructed that you remain at the mansion. For your safety, additional security measures have been put in place.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. *More security?* “What kind of measures?”

“Extra guards have been appointed around the mansion,” Mr. John explained in his mechanical tone. “There is also an alarm system installed. Should any threat arise, you will be protected at all costs.”

“Thank you for letting me know,” I said, trying to absorb the information.“I’ll stay here and follow the necessary precautions.”

“Understood,” Mr. John confirmed. “If you have any concerns or require assistance, do not hesitate to contact us.”

After ending the call, I sat quietly, processing the gravity of the situation. Mr. Wilkins was in the hospital, and I was to remain here with heightened security. The mansion felt more like a fortress now, but the assurance of safety was a comfort.

With renewed resolve, I set about completing the remaining tasks, determined to ensure that everything was in order for Mr. Wilkins' eventual return. The mansion, while quieter without him, was becoming a place where I felt increasingly at home, even as I navigated the challenges of this unexpected situation. *Now, if only I could find a way to make this fortress a little less intimidating.*

I sat at the desk, staring at the blank draft of an email I needed to send to the managing director. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, clouded with worry about Mr. Wilkins. *How serious is his condition?* I wondered, my fingers hovering over the keyboard but not quite able to find the right words. I started typing, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation with Mr. John and the uncertainty of Mr. Wilkins’ situation.

After several failed attempts, I rubbed my temples in frustration. I can’t focus like this. The pressure of crafting a perfect email in such an unsettled state was overwhelming. I decided to take a break and clear my mind.

I stood up, stretching out the tension in my shoulders, and made my way to the elevator. The polished marble floors seemed to cool my feet as I walked down the corridor.Reaching the elevator, I pressed the button and waited for it to arrive, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

As the elevator doors slid open, I stepped inside and pressed the button for the ground floor.The gentle hum of the elevator was soothing, and I took a deep breath, allowing the stress to melt away just a little.When the elevator reached the ground floor, I exited and made my way toward the kitchen.