TAKEN ABACK

Chapter 18

FLASHBACK

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Five years ago, when McCarthy arrived at his office in the morning, he discovered a mysterious brown envelope resting on his table. Initially hesitant to open it, he summoned his secretary.

"This unmarked brown envelope on my table—what business does it have here?" He interrogated, his presence exuding an aura of intimidation. The secretary, visibly shaken, recoiled, unable to provide an explanation for its presence.

"I'm not sure how it got here, Sir," she stammered, trembling. Approaching to retrieve it, perhaps with the intention to dispose of it, she stumbled,broke her high heel, and fell heavily, crying out in pain as she clutched her injured leg.

Rushing to her aid, McCarthy's attention was drawn to the envelope's contents as they spilled out upon her fall. His face suddenly beamed with terror, as he dropped his jaw wide.

"Leave my office," he commanded, swiftly gathering the envelope and tossing it onto his desk. However, the secretary had already glimpsed its contents, pretending she saw nothing. What a disgrace!

He retrieved them, tucking them into his suit. As she departed, he pressed some money into her hand, issuing a chilling warning, "Go to the hospital now... and if anyone learns of what you've seen... I'll ensure your silence with finality which no one will notice! Understood.?"

Fuming with both inner and outer rage, his eyes blazed like those of an enraged bull ready to make a deadly crush.

"Not even the sex we've had," he said with a low tone. It sounded like whispers, and the winds held them.

"Yes... yes...I assure you," she limped away, closing the door behind her.

McCarthy retrieved the photographs, his heart rate accelerating as tears welled in his eyes.

In a fit of anger, he rose abruptly, shattering any glass within his office and overturning the space in a frenzy. The once-admired portraits of his wife are now reduced to mere shards. Attempting to regain control proved futile—his rage consumed him entirely.

"I planned to divorce this bitch! But I didn't want it to be this way!!" He would scream.

When employees attempted to intervene, pounding on his door, he bellowed,"Get the fuck out of here. Leave me alone!"

Yet they wouldn't, until the last warning warning dropped, "Get out! You're all fired!" Eventually, the pounding ceased, indicating their departure.

Continuing to vent his frustration, he accidentally struck his head against a cupboard, causing him to falter, breathless, and collapse from his chair. Hours later, he regained consciousness, retrieving the damning photographs once more.

Despite scouring the envelope for clues, all attempts to trace its origin proved fruitless.

"No sign, nothing. Whoever planted this here would also feel my pain. I'll make the person suffer!"

Retreating to the washroom to wash away the blood on his hand, he confronted his reflection in the mirror.

"I intended to end things, but not like this," he muttered to himself, acknowledging his plans to sever ties due to his realization that she was unfit for him.

Who could have orchestrated such a malevolent act, poisoning his workspace instead of his morning coffee? Poison inflicts harm not only when consumed, but through its mere presence.

That night, upon returning home, he remained withdrawn, refusing to engage even with his mother. Plagued by uncertainty regarding the authenticity of the photographs, he sought solace in Olivia's presence.

"Welcome home, sweetheart..." she greeted him warmly, rushing to embrace him, only to be rebuffed.

"Don't call me that!" he snapped, brandishing his gun and leveling it at her accusingly.

Shocked, she sank to her knees, bewildered by his sudden hostility. Her life hung in the balance as she pleaded for mercy.

"Why are you doing this?" she implored, tears streaming down her face.

"Are you insane?" Olivia cried out, fearing for her life. "Please, don't do this."

With a grim determination, he discharged a warning shot, emphasizing the gravity of his intentions.

"I may have what you desire, but..." he faltered, leaving the room abruptly, leaving Olivia bewildered.

"You have nothing to offer, but pain!"

"I'm pregnant… "she nodded repeatedly,"Yes, I am. I noticed it today. We are going to have a child… "

Revealing her pregnancy, Olivia's revelation shattered his resolve, prompting him to retreat in turmoil. He sat on her bed again and cried for a few seconds, then stood up.

"I hate you so much, Olivia!" He walked to stand at the door, 'I wish to know that boyfriend or else, a very big distance would fall between us."

Admitting his intentions to end their relationship, McCarthy's resolve wavered upon learning of her pregnancy.

As Olivia attempted to reconcile with him, McCarthy's jealousy simmered, prompting him to distance himself.

Olivia followed him as he got out. She didn't want to lose him. She didn't want to carry the bag of disgrace. This marriage had made her whole and figure. She persuaded him Offering to introduce her boyfriend, Olivia sought to ease.

END OF FLASHBACK

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Causing her to open her eyes, she murmured, "It's too late."

"It's never too late," he countered softly.

"Why are you even telling me this? Do I resemble her?"

"You bear a striking resemblance."

"If you seek a replacement, I must inform you, I have a boyfriend. However, I'm always willing to lend an ear when you're troubled."

"You don't! I can tell." McCarthy's jealousy flared, prompting him to take a step back, "So she forgot about me, all memories of me lost but her fucking boyfriend's intact." His brain mocked.

But he stepped forward again as she was falling. She was asleep!

"I could introduce you to him, if you'd like?"

"Why would you do that?!" He asked it out, then to himself,"he might be my first kill."

"And you'll cease pursuing me... even in my dreams," she whispered in McCarthy's ear before drifting off to sleep, her head resting on his shoulder. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her, having rehearsed tirelessly through the night without so much as a blink.

Meanwhile, Jerry observed and listened intently. "I believe our agreement is settled," he interjected, breaking his silence. "I've received the remaining funds."

"Yes, she'll be joining the team from now on. I'll need the signed documents from her."

"Of course, I'll forward them once I'm back at the office."

"Don't do this to me, I love you deeply," Olivia sleep-talked, her dreams manifesting in her words as she struggled with the pain of betrayal. "It's not true, I didn't betray you, please. My heart aches."

Her tearful murmurs stirred McCarthy's remorse, evident in the regret etched on his face.

"Whenever I see red, my nose bleeds. Whenever I hear your name, my nose bleeds. Why did you curse me if you loved me?" he muttered, tormented by guilt. Yet, Olivia's dream-induced ramblings continued.

"You never did! You loathe me," she insisted, still lost in slumber-induced dialogue.

"If I told you I still loved you," he reiterated, hoping for a response, his face betraying his growing remorse.

As he grappled with his emotions, a pang of regret washed over him, leaving an indelible mark on his features.

Breaking a heart? Perhaps it can mend, but it can never fully heal.

She trailed her fingers along his neck, then lower to his belt, teasingly tracing his waistband. "I am not her, but perhaps I also feel and might taste like her."