My own office. My company.

I still couldn’t believe it. It had been roughly a month ever since my father stepped down from his position and handed the reins to me. He won, in the end. He always did.

Throughout my life I kept repeating myself that I would, one day, be in charge of something big. Some sort of business, perhaps, just not the one my family had. Life is a cruel mistress sometimes.

My father’s office went through a quick remodeling session, just so it could truly become mine. I didn’t care for his collection of antique furniture or his priceless Persian carpets — I only kept a couple paintings, the rest I had taken back home.

The list of changes was fairly extensive, though the contractors rushed through it in no time. Out with the old, in with the new and cutting edge. Can’t be a leader in the tech market if the CEO’s office resembled something one would read about in a Victorian era novel.

Wood turned to stained glass and metal, much like what I envisioned Alexander’s office would have looked like, if he’d actually cared about it. 

The man used to be a mystery, though my new job gave me some insights I previously didn’t have. It was overwhelming at first, I can’t imagine how it must have been for him.

I shamelessly did some digging back when I worked for him, though I kept it hidden. Alexander Harris was the farthest thing from a businessman. The man was an Art Major, which explained plenty about his love for painting. The hatred towards it could easily be attributed to the insane levels of pressure he — and now, I — were made to endure. There were a couple differences that made it easier for me, though. My father saw this new situation as some sort of father-daughter bonding session and wouldn’t leave my side, always trying to help and offer his knowledge. Most of it was outdated, but his years of experience weren’t. 

Alex had to face everything on his own, the poor thing. I felt sorry for him, despite being my number one enemy. At least, that’s what my father said. I didn’t see him that way at all.

In truth, I missed him. Regardless, there was no going back. Reynolds and Harris simply couldn’t coexist peacefully.

I couldn’t  hide the fact that I struggled to adjust to my new life. 

The corporate ladder I was supposed to climb, I barely even touched. In my defense I wanted to, although people pushed me right into the elevator that brought me to the top. I forced myself to accept it and move on rather than stick to my principles, ethics be damned. 

Despite all those changes, I still lived with Brianna in our tiny apartment. Granted, I did plan on getting my own place and finally be a grown up, but the prospect of not having her around was somewhat worrying. She’d kept me sane throughout plenty of bad times, acting as my rock and savior. Perhaps growing up also meant parting ways with those we held dear. It had already happened once.

My health wasn’t in great shape either. Stress can — and proved itself to be, time and time again — a nightmare to deal with, especially since I didn’t want to take it out on others. Being known as the screaming bitch would certainly leave a bad first impression on anyone.

I was on edge all the time, worrying I would accidentally make a mistake that would kill the company before I could even acknowledge it. It even bled into my private life back home, and my usual relief methods didn’t work — partially because I was too tired to even try.

Exhaustion and stress turned my stomach upside down. I remember waking up one morning feeling like death incarnate, rushing to the bathroom to throw up the remnants of the previous night’s dinner.

In the moment I didn’t think too much of it, mostly due to my still sleeping brain. It clicked when I dragged myself back to bed, shuffling past Brianna’s room. I distinctly remember getting back under the covers, enjoying the brief moment of warmth. I closed my eyes for just a second, but they shot open right after. My stomach sank as a myriad of what ifs began flooding my mind.

I completely ignored the signals my body sent me, too busy with work and the vast assortment of annoyances that came with it. Memories of that night with Alexander came rushing back to the surface. We hadn’t even thought about using protection.

I scoured our bathroom to find a pregnancy test I knew we didn’t have. I guess it just kept my mind busy until the clock struck seven and the stores opened. I silenced my alarm, there was no need for it any longer. I was alert, more than I had ever been.

The convenience store clerk was half asleep given the hour, but I couldn’t have cared less. I almost threw the money at him and ran back home, though I tried to maintain a shred of composure even though I was screaming inside. I needed to know.

Brianna was still sleeping and I did my best not to wake her up, fearing a possible lecture on safe sex and how not to screw one’s life over. Sure, I wanted to raise a family of my own. Just not like that, and not so early on. There was still a slight chance it had been a giant misunderstanding, though I wouldn’t have put money on it.

The short wait felt like an eternity. I was positively scared to look at the test results, but I knew I had to. I summoned all the courage and strength I had and flipped the plastic stick over in my hand, my eyes darting straight to the oval-shaped result window.

Two bars.

I wanted to cry, though I could hardly find the energy to. Back then I wasn’t even sure how to feel about it, and found myself on the verge of shutting down.

I froze and stared at the test, its result silently mocking me. A knock at the bathroom door made me jump and gasp in surprise. 

“You alright in there?” Brianna asked, her sleepy voice slightly muffled.

I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “Yeah, don’t worry about it,” I declared, doing my best to sound confident. 

She shuffled back into her room, and I sighed in relief. The cold water I splashed on my face didn’t do much, other than give me a slight shiver. If anything, I needed a drink — and couldn’t have one.

I stuffed the test back into its box and threw it in the bathroom trash bin, covering it up with a few squares of toilet paper just to make sure Brianna wouldn’t find it. I knew I would have to give her an explanation sooner or later, though I needed to gather my bearings first.

Between work and everything else I barely even noticed anything. The only consolation being the fact that I knew Alex was the father. Deep down it only added insult to injury.

A black, raving storm of questions seized my thoughts, swarming my mind and rooting me in place. I stared at myself through the mirror that hung above the sink. The woman that stared back, I barely recognized. 

She had dark circles under her watery eyes, but the need for sleep was nowhere to be seen. She’d had a rough night, people could think. They wouldn’t know the half of it.

I almost shut down trying to find a solution for that mess. I couldn’t just show up at Alex’s doorstep while carrying a newborn, could I? I would need to tackle this on my own. I knew I could do it. It would be hard, but…

“Lucy!” Brianna called, startling me.

I gasped and turned towards the door, reaching for the knob before realizing I was in no state to hold up a conversation.

“Just a second,” I replied, my voice shaking even if I tried to hide it. I wiped my eyes and opened the door to find her staring at me, arms folded across her chest, wearing an oversized T-shirt she’d slept in and a scowl on her tired face.

“What took you so long?” She asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Nothing, I’m just not feeling too good is all,” I confessed. No lies so far, though that was bound to change.

I dodged her questions as best I could. I genuinely couldn’t tell whether or not I arose any suspicions. I wanted her to find out but couldn’t bring myself to break the news. 

My bedroom door closed with clack so loud it could have raised the dead from their eternal slumber, which didn’t sound too bad to me at that moment.

An unplanned pregnancy was the least thing I needed in my life. My father would murder me if he knew, and there was no telling how Alex would react to such a news.

I had never felt so alone before, and I knew the agonizing fear that gripped me in those moments would forever remain with me. Like a memento of sorts, or rather,  a monument to my sins.

I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling, wishing I could go back and fix everything. Wishing I’d stayed with Alex. Wishing, dreaming, hoping but never acting. I couldn’t even bring myself to step out of bed, waiting for something to happen.

There was no easy way out of that conundrum. Whatever the future held for me, I would face it head on. I had spent far too much time letting others control me and my life. 

The reins were mine, and mine only. I just needed to pick a direction.