The curve of Cicely's lips widened slightly, her reddened eyes holding Seth captive, unable to look away.
"Maybe I haven't lost enough for you to understand, but there's no one left around me to lose. Perhaps if I spend a few more years behind bars, you'll finally remember that the you from back then and the you now are doing the exact same thing," she said.
A sudden tension seized Seth's brow, as if stung by an unseen force. Abruptly, he let go of Cicely.
Silence descended upon the room. The icy chill and hostility that had filled the space began to dissipate.
Seth stood behind her, staring at the reflection in the mirror for a long while. He probably should have said something, but the sight of her red-rimmed eyes silenced him. It felt like no matter what he said, it would be wrong.
The ring of the phone came as a lifeline to him. It was Colorado—someone he hadn't been in touch with for a long while.d2
Clutching the phone, he turned and left the bedroom. "I've got things to do. You should get some rest."
The door to the room opened and closed, and only after the room had been completely quiet for quite some time did Cicely close her eyes and be still for a moment before slowly walking over to the bed and sitting down. The hands resting on her lap were still vaguely shaking.
After what felt like an eternity, there was a knock at the door. Her body tensed instantly, she grabbed a nearby throw blanket and wrapped herself tightly, eyes fixed on the door, silent.
Seconds stretched on, each one fraying her nerves to a thread.
"Ms. Cicely, your milk is ready."
Cicely relaxed once more. She didn't respond, but the maid entered anyway. Placing the milk on the nightstand, she took a swift glance at Cicely. "Ms. Cicely, Mr. Diaz will be traveling abroad for business and won't return for several days. If you need anything, please tell us."
Cicely breathed a sigh of relief. Going abroad meant he wouldn't be back for a while, and she certainly didn't want to see him anytime soon.
*
Emerald Valley Estates was one of P City's most prestigious addresses, where owning a home wasn't just a matter of money. For some people, it's merely a step down. However, for Cicely, who had nothing and had just been released from prison, this place was her recent best, absolutely splendid dwelling.
Seth was right; not many could provide what he had given her. Except, she'd rather not live here, not accept anything from him.
After breakfast, Cicely received a call from Crysti. "Girl, I'm off for a day, not out of the business. You better pick me up and take me to the set, or the director might just fire me."
Cicely was nonchalant, "What are you worried about? With your last name, who'd dare give you trouble?"
"This is show business. Even before I make it big, I'm already being accused of throwing tantrums. How am I supposed to survive? Hurry up, there's an evening fight scene I need to rehearse."
Cicely took a deep breath and put down her fork, "I thought you'd be the least of my worries, but you're the biggest hassle. Is making money supposed to be this hard?"
Crysti: "or maybe you should consider letting my brother keep you. It's quicker money."
"Am I supposed to cater to his whims? If that's the case, it wouldn't be so bad."
The idea of that germophobe sponsoring a woman seemed less like getting money and more like risking her life.
"In your dreams."
Cicely laughed lazily, "I'm heading out now."
Crysti, frustrated, snapped, "You haven't left yet?! You…"
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