Forever Feels Like This

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"Ding! Ding!! Ding!!!"

That was the sound of Mary's timer blaring after a long day of work. Mary, who was so engrossed in her work that she had failed to notice the time running by, jolted in shock as she wasn't expecting her seven-hour timer to end this soon. Just to be sure, she checked the time again, and just as the timer had announced, it was already the twenty-second hour of the day.

Though surprised, a sense of self-fulfillment welled up in her chest, and Mary gave herself a gentle pat on the shoulder to congratulate herself for working so hard and long. She let out a contented sigh before standing up. However, she immediately fell back into her seat as a wave of dizziness hit her, sending a stinging pain to her head.

There it was, the aftereffect of working nonstop, but Mary did not regret it one bit. If anything, it only made her chest puff up with pride even more. This was the sign that she had done something worthwhile with her time. Now she could say confidently that she was a businesswoman to anyone who cared to listen.

A satisfied smile bloomed on her lips as she raised her hand and gently massaged her temple to ease the sudden headache, but it was at that moment that her long-forgotten stomach grumbled, and she frowned when she realized that, just as she had forgotten to rest, she had also forgotten to eat anything since breakfast.

She stood up again and steadied herself on her feet before walking out of her office, and as she closed the door behind her, she stopped walking, turned around, and smiled at the gold plate on the door that read, "Mary Moore - CEO." She raised her hand and lightly caressed the nameplate, feeling the smoothness and coolness of the plate on her fingertips.

"You realize that nameplate will only be there for a while, don't you?" The sudden appearance of a person behind her made Mary jump, and she would have fallen if not for the quick reflexes of the person who grabbed her shoulders just in time.

"Dad!" Mary whined when she saw her father's face. He was still completely clad in his smart business suit, which meant that he was yet to leave the office. "At least wear a bell or something." She patted her chest to calm her heartbeat that had spiked at her father's sudden appearance.

This wasn't the first time her father had sneaked up on her like this—he had been doing this since the first day she began working here—but she couldn't, for the life of her, get used to it.

"Why are you still here when you should be resting at this hour?" Old Man Moore asked, intentionally ignoring his daughter's statement about wearing bells.

"I should be asking you that," Mary replied. "You should also be resting at this hour."

Old Man Moore's brows knitted in worry, and his eyes softened as he raised his hand and gently ruffled Mary's hair. "How can I rest when my only daughter has yet to return home at this time? I have warned you several times not to work late. Don't you realize how dangerous it gets at this hour? You should also consider your health; at this point, you might just drop to the ground from exhaustion, and as I said before, you losing sleep won't grow this company any more than it has. This is a temporary office, for God's sake."

Mary calmly listened to her father rant his displeasure, and she held back the urge to roll her eyes at him. He had said these words so many times that at this point, she could recite his exact words even in her sleep. Her father could talk all he wanted, but nothing was going to change her attitude toward her work. Besides, she had learned the habit of working late hours from no other than her father himself, so why should she stop when he wouldn't?

"Are you even listening, Mary?" Old Man Moore asked upon realizing that Mary was lost in her thoughts again. He knew that she was never going to take him seriously, but he was too worried about her to let her do as she pleased. "If this continues, I may be forced to withdraw you from this office."

Now, Mary could listen to anything but this. She could handle and overlook every threat from her father but not one concerning her job. Besides, at this moment, she could tell that her father was dead serious. "Fine, I understand. I won't work late next time," she reluctantly said, and how pleased her old man was. When Mary saw her father's smile, she subconsciously smiled back, and before she knew it, her father had embraced her. She let him be because, for one, she loved the warmth of her father's hugs and also because she knew that her father was feeling sentimental again.

"Mary… my princess, you know I only have you in this world. I worry about you all the time, and that is why I am always looking out for what is best for you. So when I tell you not to stay out late, please listen," Old Man Moore said pleadingly, with tenderness overflowing in his voice.

"I understand what you are saying, Dad, so stop being so dramatic." Mary rolled her eyes, but because she was still in the embrace of her father, Old Man Moore didn't see it. "I am not the only one you have; there is my brother too."

At the mention of his son, Old Man Moore snorted and also rolled his eyes where his daughter could not see. "Your brother has deserted us! He has ceased to exist as far as I am concerned."

Mary withdrew from the hug and stared at her father, totally amused by his remarks about her brother. "Dad… Erickson hasn't deserted us; he only got married and is on his honeymoon, which will end soon."

Old Man Moore's displeasure only grew worse, and he pouted with his arms crossed over his chest. "What kind of honeymoon lasts for more than two months? He has clearly deserted us. He even left his office for you to occupy." The old man huffed, and Mary could do nothing but laugh at him.

Who would have thought that her father, who had always encouraged her brother to get married and move out of the house, would now miss her brother so much?

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Dad. Eric will be back home in a week or two, and when he comes back, you can yell at him all you want."

The old man snorted again. He looked forward to the day his son would return home; then there would be nothing stopping him from beating him to a pulp.

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