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🌃 Echoes of the Past The Grand Mansion
The lavish hall of the Angela Grand Mansion was quiet, save for the low murmur of a news channel on the screen. It was 8 pm.
Angela, a figure of undeniable power, sat on her sofa. A business elite in every sense, her posture was inherently bossy and brimming with power. She didn't flinch when the double doors opened and a tall person entered the hall.
He was strikingly handsome, dressed in an extremely fine suit that accentuated his sleek build. This was her son, Michael, the sensual actor whose fierce expression often graced magazine covers.
"Why did you do that?" Michael's voice was low, yet charged.
Angela didn't take her eyes off the screen. "What?"
Michael stepped closer. "Don't act innocent."
Angela finally stood, her movements smooth and deliberate. A cold smile played on her lips. "Oh. You know, right?"
Michael's gaze was solid; he didn't flinch. "Why did you interfere with Herman's business? It was Alice who cancelled the engagement, not them. Why are you still blaming and trying to disturb them?"
Angela's smile widened, devoid of warmth. "I do. Yes." She walked towards him. "But what did your friend do after that? He instantly proposed to another girl. How can he do that?"
Michael met her eyes directly. "Because he loves her. You are the one who deliberately knew this fact and forced him for this engagement."
Angela's smile vanished. "Yes, I did. How did you know that?"
Michael let out a short, hollow scoff. "Of course. I'm your son. I know you."
Angela turned away, her back rigid. "Who are you to advise me? I'm your mom. Keep that in your mind," she said in a deep voice. "Don't be stubborn like your sister who went abroad afraid to face..."
"Not her," Michael cut in, his voice ringing with conviction. "You made her. If you didn't continue to force her to marry Rico, she wouldn't have."
"Michael!" Angela shouted, spinning to face him, then immediately turned and walked away, retreating further into the mansion.
Michael watched her go, a sigh escaping his lips as he turned his eyes away.
His phone vibrated. It was Rico. Michael answered, his face etched with confusion. "Where are you now?" After he hung up the call, he sighed heavily and went out.
Ameya's Independent Villa
Ameya quietly entered her independent villa. The lights were dim; no one was there, everyone was sleeping. She made her way towards her room.
Suddenly, the light came on. She turned. It was her mother.
"Did you have your dinner?" her mother asked gently.
Ameya nodded.
Her mother came closer, her expression concerned. "What happened? Why is your face pale? Is it because of Rico?"
Ameya paused, catching her breath. "He apologized," Ameya said, her voice lower.
"Then what did you say?" her mother pressed.
Ameya's voice lowered in sorrow. "How can I give him another chance? It's one life. What if he did the same mistake again? I can't endure it again."
Ameya's mother paused, then smiled a little. Ameya looked at her, confused.
"What if he don't?" Ameya's mother said softly. "He really understands his mistakes and wants to get back to you."
Ameya turned away. "I don't know."
Ameya's mother then turned her own face to look out the window. "Me and your father are an arranged marriage. We didn't know each other well. We found out everything later. Sometimes, I got pissed when your father didn't take a stand for me. One day, I went back to my parents' house."
"What happened?" Ameya asked, drawn into the story.
"He apologized," her mother said. "And he said, 'He won't do that.'"
"Did my dad repeat the same mistakes?" Ameya asked.
"No," her mother said with finality. "He won't. Why? Because he understands his mistakes while I wasn't here. I'm sure Rico understands his mistakes when you're not together."
Ameya grew quiet, the memory of Rico's words echoing in her mind: It's hard for me too, when we aren't together.
"Forgive him," her mother urged.
Ameya stood still, lost in thought.
The Bar
Michael entered the bar and quickly spotted his friend. Rico was drunk and dazed; he could barely open his eyes. Michael reached the table and sat down.
When Rico saw him, he suddenly started to cry like a baby. Michael was confused.
"She rejected me," Rico choked out.
"You told me already," Michael said, trying to be patient.
Rico was blabbering. "I said sorry! But she doesn't believe me..."
Michael nodded. "Rico, it's late. Come with me."
Rico denied him with a gesture of his hand. "Do you know how much I love her? How can she reject me?"
Michael's phone rang. It was Jenna, his fiancé. He sighed and answered. "Tell me."
"I have called you three times," Jenna said immediately. "Why aren't you taking my call?"
Michael quickly looked at his phone. "Sorry. I was driving. I forgot to call you back."
Rico, leaning against the table, blabbered again, loud enough to be heard. "Girls are heartless!"
Jenna had listened through the phone. "What? Where are you now, Michael? Who is near you? Are you spending time with useless people? How dare he says that?"
"It's Rico," Michael said, letting out a small sigh.
Jenna's tone shifted to concern. "What happened to him?"
"Ameya rejected him," Michael relayed.
"What?" Jenna exclaimed. "I had relief when they finally united! Now what happened?"
"I don't know," Michael said. "He is full drunk. Okay, I will call you later. Bye." He hung up and started helping Rico stand up.
A few minutes later, at the entrance, as they slowly walked, Michael asked a question. "If you want to know, you have to ask her."
Rico's tone was lower, laced with genuine sorrow. "I asked. She said, 'What if I did again?'" He spoke with a genuine voice now, eyes closed as if reliving the pain. "I won't. How can I do? She doesn't know when I took that decision to break up with her... how hard it was for me. I can't even see her crying face. I turned... that time, I was pissed at myself. Why did I make her cry? She is the person I want to make smile always, but..." He cried again. "...I made her sad." He closed his eyes completely.
Michael can't look his friend in the emotion; he was genuinely worried. Rico was too sad.
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To be Continued....
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