𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 ✓ (𝟷𝟾+)

The Name

A week later

Arin

I looked up at Mrs. Rose who held stacks of papers in her hand, placing them on my desk.

"What is this?" I asked, glaring at the huge bundle.

It was almost evening by work standards and I thought I could leave early today. Not that I had much to look forward to. Xavier promised me that he would help clean up my image after the tabloids disclosed my identity as a working girl, carrying stacks of papers and coffee cups. But as it turned out, London loves a working girl. They loved a woman, making on her own and living up to the ridiculous standards of the society. Even Xavier was surprise with everyone's reaction.

Dad told me the publicity not only gave boost to their image but it also showed how the Oswalds' just didn't hand over the job to anyone, even if that anyone was their daughter itself. The entire tabloid debacle taught me one thing. Betrayal comes from people whom we know. With enemies, one can expect but when the sharp edge of blade slices a part of us, being wield by someone we trust, it cuts deeper.

I learnt the hard way, the woman who made a mockery out of my life wouldn't stoop down to any level for her entertainment. I had to tread carefully around Stella de villa. Mrs. Rose came up with the name when I narrated my epic betrayal saga. I liked the way she rhymed it with Cruella.

Mrs. Rose tapped he fingers over the papers. She grinned, winking at me. I knew that smile. The carefully drawn teeth display of hers wasn't work related. It was her way to pull my leg. Looking at her and then back at the stack of papers, I enquired.

"Are you trying to recreate the tabloid picture with the stack of papers?" She nodded vigorously. Few strands of hair broke loose from her braid.

"Ohh yes. You catch up quick child.." She grinned some more, pulling back the documents and walking away.

Since the day the news broke out, everyone had treated me differently. Except for Mrs. Rose and Roger, who seemed to think I was still the same person. Although Roger still hasn't spoken to me or asked me anything about how or why the tabloids reported things, I assumed he knew. Why wouldn't Stella tell him.

Of all the conclusions I could draw from this little stunt she pulled, one thing I too came to discover. It wasn't just Roger who was cheating on her. They both were leading two seperate lives. Seemed like they were really made for each other. Two peas in a pod.

The door to Roger's office flung open when he walked out towards our bay. While his attitude towards me has softened a bit after he came to know about the Oswald connection, more or less, it was still on the original track. But I was more than happy that the yelling had stopped.

As Roger walked over, I hoped and said a silent prayer for him to move on and not give me work. He towered near my desk, letting out a long drawn huff before cornering a smile on his lips. It was enough for my heart to skip a beat.

I was still getting over him and it would take a few of these stabs to bleed my heart dry of any affection. Seeing him in office wasn't easy either. But I knew, one day all of this would be a distant memory. One day, the pangs and pricks in my chest and heart, every time I remembered his words on the calls or his hand draped over Stella would fade as all memories do. That one day made me determined to hold on. To weather his smile and sweet talks and not fall into the dark bottomless pit from where I would never be able to escape.

"I have work for you." Roger said, a hand of his sliding in his pant pocket.

I nodded, picking up my notepad for him to dictate. He scanned me top to bottom, till where the edges of the desk let him. His furrowed brows danced with unasked question. I slid the pad back in its usual corner and erected, waiting for his instructions while he skimmed through the paper in his hand.