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“Yeah, it’s been a good project. Just keeping me really busy,” I replied tersely, poking at some green salad on my plate.
“Can you tell us about it?” James asked.
It really did seem like James was changing. He certainly wasn’t the same man who came back home drunk every day or the man who carelessly tossed a cigarette at his daughter, giving her a scar on her chest. He was completely different. Susan, on the other hand, was still as mean as ever.
“It's research for a cure,” I revealed, still playing with a cucumber on my plate.
“For what disease?” Susan asked, her eyes fixed attentively on me.
“Muscular dystrophy,” I answered. They looked at me expecting me to go on. I sighed. “It is a mutation that messes with the production of proteins to form healthy muscles. It’s not something I should be discussing over the table really,” I added as I finally ate the cucumber I was playing with.
“It's understandable if that is the reason why you've been avoiding us,” Susan blurted out with a sneer.
“It’s not, trust me.” My tone almost matched hers.
“So, are you going to receive a Nobel prize or something?” James interrupted, noting the growing tension between Susan and me.
“I doubt if curing muscular dystrophy is going to be the greatest benefit to humanity this year, but maybe.” I laughed.
“We're proud of you, Amy. You've always pushed yourself hard and now you are doing great things in the world.” His voice trailed off. “I just want you to know that we are always rooting for you.”
“Thanks, James.”
I had forgiven them a long time ago. It was really unhealthy to hold a grudge against them and Jennifer had been very persuasive on the matter. Forgiveness wasn't about stating to the world that what they did to me was ok, but it's releasing myself of the burden. Jennifer had been my therapist, and was the main reason why I was able to even look at my parents today. I was willing to give them a chance now. I just hoped I wouldn't regret it.
Chapter 29
Daniel
Myphonebeeped.Ifinally responded to it hours after hearing the first notification. I had finally gotten some sleep, and I wasn’t about to lose it to some Evan prank or annoying stakeholder call. The board had bought the plan to use Amy’s idea to boost the company’s image, but some of them still had their doubts and others like Mr. Cooper were getting impatient. I pulled down the notification bar and saw a message from Evan. He was back in the country and he was going to spend the whole of the next day on the couch in my office.
Typical Evan. But I had missed having him around and could definitely use his fresh perspective.
I still needed to put a plan in place to solve the company’s problems without breaking Amy’s trust. Either that or I had to come clean and tell Amy all I and the board had planned. The former seemed like a better idea, but the problem was that I had nothing and my chief advisor had no suitable solution.
I was about to head down to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. After moving toward the door, I looked through the peephole and saw Anastasia. What the hell? I opened the door and tried to force a smile.
“Anastasia, what can I do for you?” I calmly asked after opening the door.
“I am sorry to bother you Daniel, but if I had called you, you’d have probably told me that you were unavailable and…”
“Definitely,” I agreed.
“Sorry, what?” she asked.
“I’d definitely tell you that I'm busy.”
“This can’t wait, Daniel,” she frowned. “It is about your father.”
Of course it was. That was literally the only thing that connected us. Anastasia was definitely the prettiest of all the women he married after my mom. She had the physique of a model and age didn’t seem to affect her, but something was different. I gestured for her to come in and led her into the living room, where she sat on the nearest couch.
“Coffee?” I offered.
She simply nodded.
She kept examining the house like she was expecting someone to pop out from the corner. I led her to the kitchen and poured two cups of coffee, handing her one. She grabbed it and immediately splashed a bit on the counter with shaky hands.
Okay, something was definitely wrong. Anastasia was usually always composed, like English royalty, another reason why she was just too fake for my liking, but today she was evidently on the edge. I wondered what made her lose her cool. I sat down on the chair opposite her at the counter, waiting for her to start talking as she took a hasty sip of coffee.
