Once, my paranoid love

“He isn’t here,” Anne replied swiftly, trying to maintain her composure. “He took a flight to Istanbul yesterday.”

Obin’s feigned surprise at Robert’s absence did little to quell Anne’s unease. She watched him closely, wondering if he would probe further into the circumstances surrounding her husband’s sudden trip to Istanbul. The delicate balance of her life depended on the secrets she held close.

“Oh, my goodness. It’s strange,” Obin stated, continuing to play the role of a surprised acquaintance. Anne sensed that, beneath his act, there was a hint of genuine surprise. After all, it had only been two days since Robert’s daughter had married his boss, and this sudden trip was indeed unusual.

“Yes, in certain ways,” Anne replied carefully, choosing her words with precision. “My husband enjoys working. But, in any case, do you need anything? You are free to tell me.”

Anne’s response was a delicate dance of words, a careful maneuver to divert Obin’s attention from the truth. She couldn’t afford for him to suspect what had truly happened to Robert. The thought of her husband lying in a hospital bed, his life hanging in the balance, sent shivers down her spine.

Her hesitation was deliberate, a subtle warning to Obin that she wouldn’t easily yield information. Anne was determined to protect her son, even if it meant guarding her secrets at all costs. She knew that if Obin discovered the truth, her carefully constructed world would crumble.

Obin, however, seemed content with her response, his curiosity seemingly satisfied for the moment. He didn’t press further, at least not in that moment. Anne’s mind was racing with thoughts of what might happen if he decided to dig deeper.

Anne’s puzzlement deepened as Obin’s response only added more confusion to the situation.

“Of course,” he answered, a smile on his face. “After all, you are our major guest.”

Guest? Anne thought, her mind racing to make sense of the unexpected term. She had not anticipated being referred to as a guest in her own home, especially by someone like Obin, who had always been connected to her husband’s secretive dealings.

“Mr. Obin, I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Anne replied, her voice laced with bewilderment. She needed answers, and the ambiguity of the situation left her feeling increasingly uneasy.

Obin didn’t offer an immediate explanation but instead reached into his pocket and retrieved an elegant card. He handed it to Anne, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

“Here is the invitation,” Obin said, his tone measured.

Anne took the card, her fingers trembling slightly as she examined it. The card was adorned with intricate designs and embossed lettering, but it gave no indication of the event or purpose for which it had been issued.

“What is the purpose of the invitation?” Anne thought, her brows furrowing as she squinted at the details on the card. She felt a growing sense of unease, as though she were stepping into a world of secrets and uncertainties, with each question only leading to more enigmas.

Obin’s smile remained inscrutable as he watched Anne’s reaction. It was clear that he held the answers, and Anne was left with no choice but to seek them from him.

“For his wedding, the boss arranges a party. He’ll be pleased if his father-in-law can join them,” Obin explained, his tone matter-of-fact.

Anne’s mind raced to process his comments. She took the invitation card out of the envelope and began to read it, her eyes scanning the elegant text that adorned it. The words left her stunned.

“What? He arranges a party,” Anne exclaimed, her voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and incredulity.

As her eyes moved down the invitation, she spotted the names “Elena” and “Huston.”

“Mrs. D’souza, of course,” Obin replied, a warm smile gracing his lips. “After all, Boss loves his wife.”

Anne’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions as she contemplated the revelation on the invitation. ‘What the fuck! Elena has remarkable talent. In one night, she enchanted him,’ she thought, her teeth gritting in frustration. The sudden turn of events left her feeling both astonished and unsettled.

Obin’s response brought her back to the present moment. “Boss and madam will wait for you,” he said, his words holding an air of formality.

Anne managed to muster a friendly smile in response, though her mind was still racing to process the astonishing news. She couldn’t help but wonder about the nature of the party Huston had arranged.

Just as Anne tried to collect her thoughts, a new development shook her. Paul abruptly entered the scene, his presence unexpected and unsettling. “Mom,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of astonishment.

Anne turned to face her son, her worry deepening as she took in his disheveled appearance. “What exactly is he doing here? He is drunk again,” she thought, her concern evident in her eyes.

“Paul,” Anne said, her tone laced with a mixture of relief and frustration, as she approached him and gently grabbed his hand. Her son’s recurring battles with alcohol had been a source of immense concern and pain for Elena, and his appearance at such a crucial moment added another layer of complexity to the situation.

“Who is he? Who’s having a party?” Paul asked in a confused and drunken tone.

Paul’s sudden and unexpected appearance, in a drunken state, had thrown a curveball into the already complex situation. As he slurred his words, Anne’s anxiety levels skyrocketed.

‘Holy shit. Did he hear everything that was said?’ she thought, her throat tightening as she gulped nervously.

Obin, ever the composed presence in the room, decided to address Paul directly. “So, you’re Paul D’souza,” he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Paul, clearly inebriated and disoriented, gave Obin a stern glare. He responded in a stern tone, “Who is D’souza? I am Paul Wilson.”Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.