Chagrin Confessions

Chapter Fifteen: Breathe In. Breathe Out.

^ That song with this chapter.

Previously:
Cassie starts getting letters and emails from emotionally and physically abused woman, Julie brings in Talia, a specialist, to help her replying to them.

The Wakagashira is in NY, where he enlists Hisashi to find Madame Cleo.

***

Monday, 19th March, 2018

The past week was a fourth dimension roller coaster, in which I was hardly aware of anything around me, with work consuming my every breathing minute. It was unhealthy, to say the least, but I couldn’t help feeling obligated to reply to every single distress message that reached out to me. It was unlike the regular relationship advice seekers, where I would only reply to as much as I could during work hours and some late nights. But it was like there was a heavy feeling deep within my chest, like there a bar of weights was crushing on me, and the pain was reaching out to every bone in my rib cage; my throat would clench – suffocating me – and I wouldn’t feel relieved till I read and replied each and every letter that was sent or emailed.

Talia met twice with me since that meeting, she retouched hundreds of my reply drafts appropriately, using her invaluable expertise, and guided me every step of the way. I felt like a toddler learning how to walk up the stairs, learning how to overcome each step and proceed to the next, feeling more and more joyous with each step – or draft – being overcome. She encouraged me to call or email her whenever I was at a road block; which was quite frankly as often as the number of toilet breaks a pregnant woman needs.

It was a never-ending maze. Only, there was no Goblet of Fire prize at the end of it.

I found myself reading and replying to the letters in cab rides, toilet breaks, lunch breaks, and up till the break of dawn. I probably slept around twelve hours this past week. My eyes could easily challenge that of a panda bear; Jack Black beware, I’ll be playing Po in the next Kung Fu Panda.

My fingers run through the sticky mess that is my hair, pulling at the knots deep within the nest residing inside.

Wait, when was the last time I took a bath?
Oh yeah, I had a five minute shower last Friday.

If my perfectionist of a mother was here, she'd probably be saying something along the lines of “Darling, what is that smell? Eau de eff?!”

Aside from my current, non-healthy lifestyle, Nova reached out to me several times, wanting to meet up and catch a breather, but I couldn’t. I felt like the worst friend ever, not even checking up on her at Ivan’s place, since that night she fractured her leg at the club. I’ve been sucked into a black hole, or some other vortex, and now here I am in my office replying to more emails. Juggling both the regular emails and the new challenges, knowing quite well that I’ve only got two weeks before Julie starts to hassle me for my column.

“Cassie, I need to know the progress you’ve made so far with Talia. Didn’t I tell you to keep me updated every two days?”

Speak of the devil.

Mental note, next time think of a million bucks.

“I haven’t forgotten. I sent a memo to Laura last Friday to pass it along to you.”

She looks like she’s on the brink of erupting like a volcano; vibrant auburn hair matching and all. She sneers while entering my office and slams the door behind her.