Forgive Me by Kateri Stanley (reading strategies book TXT) 📕

“You could say that,” Isaac muttered, chuckling under his breath. “I’ve been busy. We’ve started to promote our website more now, your article really helped by the way, the app version of Virtisan is coming out soon. Mark Zuckerberg has an interest in buying out the company.”

“Really? Are you going to take his offer?”

“I think it’s just a rumour. My colleagues tend to play pranks on me. The website is still relatively quite small compared to his enterprises, why I reckon it’s not true. He has his fingers in enough pies as it is.”

“Well, what if it was true? What would you do?”

“I’d tell him to go and get screwed.”

“Hey, baby present.”

“It’s just babble as you said, she can’t understand us. I was joking. I’d be in awe if Mr Zuckerberg wanted to work with me.”

“I thought you were.”

“You wouldn’t say that about Cameron Storms?”

“God no. She was a bitc-” She lost her words as Isaac began to laugh. Stripe smiled, remembering herself before returning to her breakfast and took a gulp of unrehearsed coffee. “Sorry, I’m trying to watch my cussing around Sofia.” She looked at her daughter who munched on her breakfast, little flecks of oats were sprinkled on her chin, she was fixated on Isaac. “Did you really like my article? I was just winging it.”

“You did great winging if that’s what you’re calling it. I was relieved you didn’t mention anything about being cuffed to a bed, visiting a disused military bunker and so much worse.”

Stripe smiled uncomfortably. She remembered writing the first couple of drafts, her vocabulary had been predominantly aggressive and she didn’t restrain from the truth. When she found out she was pregnant, she knew she had to play a different strategy. It’s not just my life anymore. What had happened before wasn’t something to joke about, it was life-altering, discovering a buried revelation. When she drove from Isaac’s house, she hadn’t been the same since. I’ve been fighting with my own sense of morality. Was she corrupt for sleeping with the man who killed her father? Was her mind weakened from a douse of Stockholm syndrome to stick with Isaac’s story? What kind of mother was she for seeking refuge in the arms of a killer?

“How have you been?” Isaac asked, he licked a drop of egg yolk from his lower lip. “That’s an important question. I didn’t hear from you after you left…”

Her stomach tightened. I had to leave, to figure things out. Wrestle with demons in the dark. The appeal of her eggs had quickly worn off. “Well, I had a baby.”

“I’m aware,” Isaac smirked.

“It’s hard to say. Things haven’t been easy. You could’ve contacted me, if you wanted to.”

“Well, following the social convention when a woman leaves a man’s house in the middle of the night after they, you know what, it’s normally a sign they want to be left alone...”

“It is, sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise, Stripe. I mean, I was puzzled why you left like that but after what I showed you, it was difficult to process. I don’t blame you.”

“It has. I need to ask you something,”

“What is it?”

Stripe reached for something from the work top and laid them on the table. Isaac's eyes froze. “Can you explain these?”

The fragrance was delectable but the sentiment felt imminently threatening. The gift consisted of two pert red roses, the necks and stems wrapped in shiny black ribbon. “Sofia found them in the garden. Someone planted them here conveniently.”

“It’s a sweet gesture of nostalgia but I didn't leave those outside. I wouldn't want to bring attention to myself.”

“Cameron Storms gave me a red rose wrapped in a black ribbon at the prom...”

“Stripe, it wasn’t me.”

“Then if it wasn’t you, who was it?”

They stared at each other momentarily; her head growing dizzy. Isaac got up immediately, holding her. Stripe pressed her nose into his chest, smelling his aroma.

“What’s bothering you?” Isaac whispered, pressing his forehead against hers, adding a loving kiss to her yellow hair. “Talk to me.”

“I have something to show you,” Stripe said. “Follow me.”

Isaac look puzzled as she unravelled from his embrace, heaving Sofia out from her high chair. She moved upstairs, feeling his presence behind her. “Don't be scared,” she whispered, taking a key from her pocket.

She led him to a door. It was based opposite Sofia's room.

“Why are you showing me a closet?” Isaac asked.

“Don’t get freaked out, okay?”

“Um, I’ll decide once you show me.”

Stripe opened up the door stepping inside. Once the light above blinked on, her secret assignment was unveiled. No backing out now.

She watched Isaac scour his gaze over the wall. There were pictures and newspapers with red and blue string stretching out from pins. It was like a gigantic cobweb. “What is all of this?” Isaac asked.

“What do you reckon a journalist does when she has free time?”

“Editing?”

“Partially.” Stripe smiled lightly. “I was bored on maternity leave.” Sofia twisted in her arms. “I think I’ve caught something. I can feel it.”

Isaac reached out towards the board running his fingertips against the pinned-up pictures and newspaper cut outs. “What did you find? What is this?”

“I think I know where you really came from.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Spring 1979

Gerald Blair's fingers trembled as he tried to fasten his blazer. He hated formal occasions like this.

“Oh come on Gerry,” Sheila quipped, she was his colleague and third in command at Kaltheia.

“I’m not good at posing for pictures,” he replied, flustering at the collar. “They make me uncomfortable. It just doesn't feel natural.”

“Well, you've got no need to be nervous,” Victoria said, sweeping her red mane over her shoulder.

Ha. You have no idea. I have plenty, Gerald thought.

“Vic’s right. You and Peter have done really well. It's a celebration! Perk up!” Paul patted his elbow; it was more of a jovial shove.

“We’re all in this together,” Sheila uttered, tightening his tie.

Gerald knew she was right, in a way. He didn’t understand the celebratory atmosphere, there was so much