JONATHAN'S POV

I turned to the familiar voice and stood up, a pleased smile crossing my face. I started towards her but remembered my secretary.

"We'll talk about this later. Be available for dinner today. I'll pick you up." I told Danielle.

"There's no need. I'll come and meet you there."

I narrowed my eyes. "We're getting married in a month tops. I'll come and pick you up." I remarked to her protest."

She crossed her arms, not the only sign she didn't appreciate my high-handedness. Her tense figure could snap with how stiff she had become. "But you don't know where I stay." She protested again and I smiled.

"This isn't the nineteenth century. Your address is on the application you filled. I'll call you when I'm done." I dismissed her and with a huff, she left the office, greeting the woman I'd thought I wouldn't be able to see again.

A smile lifted her face and she started towards me. "My boy." She said and hugged me tightly.

"Mrs. Brighton." I hugged her just as tight.

She pulled back and frowned at me, a playful glint in her eyes. "Lorraine. Not Mrs. Brighton."

I laughed as she pulled me in a hug again. "Alright ma'am."

She pulled back and surveyed my face. "It's been a while. How have you been?" She caressed my cheek in a motherly gesture, something she had done since we had met about five years ago. "I never thought I would see your handsome face again."

I laughed and led her towards the couch. "Me too. It's good to see you again. How did you find me?"

She crossed her eyes, "Don't mind me. I just came with no prior invitation."

"And it's good that you did. It's wonderful to see you again."

She smiled and blinked fast, a sign she was trying to hide her watering eyes. "Me too. After you two graduated, I knew you would make your impact, but you even surprised me with this." She said, looking round the office. I followed her eyes, seeing what she was seeing. The expanse of the office, the presence of the obviously expensive table, couch, things I couldn't really dream of when I was in college.

"I know right." I commented, and her eyes rested on me.

"Are you alright? I heard the news. You two were so close." Her eyes started watering again, and I dragged a tissue to her, which she used to blow her nose. "Sorry." She apologized and I shook my head.

"I'm fine. It's been years now."

She studied me silently. "Did I tell you this? The first time, you boys came to see me regarding your assignment and wanting to take extra curriculums so you could finish earlier. I was very nervous, I could barely keep my train of thought."

I thought back to those days at college. While I'd been a very studious student, knowing what I wanted in life, Ethan and I knew education wasn't really our end goal. This company had been our goal right from high school, but his parents hadn't supported the idea of both of us venturing into business with our little to no experience so we'd agreed to take business courses and try our best to finish early as they weren't also in support of us doing business while we were still at school.

"All the professors then were always whispering about how good both of you were, but the fact that you weren't interested in talking with anybody, and you only kept Ethan close, made you a force that couldn't be reckoned with, kind of."

I nodded, agreeing with her. I hated company for the most part and college wasn't exactly a place people could thrive on their own, but being in the school we were had taught us we had only each other to rely on. It was more like a world of competition where people didn't mind eating other people to keep their place at the top.

"I didn't think you were nervous. You looked so collected even as we told you our ridiculous requests." 

She laughed. "That was only an external front, and that was because I also had Margaret to contend with. Young adults are terrifying when they set their minds on something, especially something the university doesn't agree with or support." She mock shuddered, and I smiled, remembering her daughter. Margaret was one of the few people I could say I was scared of as well. She had a way of seeing through people and making people do what she wanted, not at all in a manipulative manner. I just didn't know how she did it.

"How is she doing now?" I asked. When I had graduated, she had still been studying law. But that was after changing her major from journalism and initially from economics. Like I said, things always went the way she wanted, regardless of how illogical.

"Oh, she's fine. She now owns a bookshop where she manages a café and a children's park near it. This could be what she'll do, as she has stuck with it for almost a year now, or she might discover something else she wants to do. You never can tell with her, but one thing that has stuck is her love for you. She wants to know what your plan is."

I shook my head. "I rejected it." She had made a deal when I had graduated that if I wasn't married at twenty-five, she would have no choice but to marry me, and while marriage to her wouldn't necessarily be a terrible thing, I felt nothing for her and didn't consider it right to do that to her. I respected her and her mother way too much for that."

She sighed. "Well, I'll have to let her know. You should thank me, though; she almost insisted on coming with me." She mock shuddered again, making me laugh. Your company would have been on fire now.

I nodded, and we fell into a comfortable silence.

I stood up and offered my arm. "Let me show you around the company." Mrs. Brighton, my best and most knowledgeable professor, was one of the main people that had impacted both my life and Ethan's, and to a large extent, we owed the success of the company to her. She had been one of the few people that had believed in us and backed us up when we had almost gotten in trouble with the school before she had gone abroad for a sabbatical leave, a few months before we had graduated.

"It would have been nice if Ethan had been here as well." She whispered and rubbed her eyes. "I'm so sorry I keep on bringing him up. It's just..." She sniffed. "... I think he would have really felt at home here. This was a big dream for both of you."

I nodded. "Yeah. He would have."

She looked at me. "I heard the news at the last reunion we had. It's such a pity, what happened. He was such a bright boy and full of joy. Always lighting up every room he walked into."

Unlike me, I didn't say that out. Which was why it made absolutely no sense. How would a bright boy like that choose and decide to take his own life? Right at the pinnacle of the success of his company. The day before the company's one-year anniversary, a day we'd planned and prepared for months. I wasn't believing that nonsense, and I was determined to find out the truth.

She hugged me, and I hugged her tightly, trying to take her comfort. "But it's okay. I just came to see for myself that you really were doing well. It's been years, and I've been wondering."

I released her. "Thank you so much. It's so good to see you again. Hopefully, in a few years, I'll be able to see you at Margaret's wedding. Unfortunately, not as the groom." She winked, and I laughed.

"Unfortunately not. I'm getting married. Very soon."

Her jaws dropped. "What? That's great news. I thought you were never going to."

I nodded. "That's what I used to say, but I recently reconnected with an old flame in college, and we decided not to waste any time again. I'll invite you to the wedding, if we have one." I felt bad about lying to her, but the goal of the wedding was to make everyone believe the news. I couldn't leave any stone unturned, including my former course mates.

She started clapping. "Wow. That's great news. Make sure you invite me to the wedding; I would love to see the woman that captured your heart that was so closed to my Margaret."

DANIELLE'S POV

I opened the door to my childhood room, breathing in the smell of dirt and dust. It had been a while since I had come home, and, as per my mother's normal behavior, she hardly entered my room. It was a wonder she had been able to live in the house where my father had been murdered. I couldn't do it again even if I was threatened to. I looked at the bed, the place that had always been plagued with nightmares since that very night, each one worse and more graphic than the last, all involving my father being murdered while I hid and watched like a coward.

I turned at the sound of footsteps and fell into my mother's arms. "Mum."

My mum laughed and drew me closer, "My daughter. It's so good to have you home again." I could hear the thread of beration in her voice, but I ignored it.

My mum released me. "Why are you here?" She gestured to my room and I shrugged. "I just wanted to see what it looked like again, after all these times."

She narrowed her eyes at the vacuum cleaner with me. "Were you planning to clean again? Why bother cleaning if you are not going to stay here."

I turned to her, curious. "If you can't bear staying or looking at the room, how did you manage staying here. Others would have moved immediately or as soon as they were able, you know?" It had always been a question on my mind. My mum had come to see my father lying in his own pool of blood and me passed out in my room, and the next few years had been one of horror for both of us.

She shrugged. "I didn't really have a choice after it happened. Even before, it wasn't like we had that much money lying around. Nobody was going to buy a house where someone had been murdered, and I didn't even have the money to renovate it. Did that really affect you? She asked, fear injecting her voice.

I caressed her hair. "After the first few years, it didn't. I knew we had no choice and I could live with it after a while." I hid my face from her scrutiny and looked at the place where, for the longest time, the trace of unwashed blood had remained. While we had stayed together in my mum's room, she had eventually been unable to live with my nightmares. It felt like every time I had a nightmare, she was broken up a little more, so I'd made the choice to move back into my room and I didn't regret my decision, not one bit. It meant I could still have my mother with me, something I'd been terrified of my whole life.

She grabbed my hand. "Are you hungry? Let me make something for you to eat. It's not so often that you come home, I want to enjoy it." I held her hands tighter as we moved to the tiny kitchen in the house.

When I had been younger, before it had happened, I had thought everyone lived like I did, obviously from paycheck to paycheck as my mother had been critically ill and most of dad's finance had gone to that. I had thought everyone barely had their own rooms and their kitchen had been a small extension of their living room, but that had been before I'd started elementary school and as part of a way to escape my own room, I'd had a lot of sleepovers. I'd then realized, ah, not everyone lived like we did, and we were in that tiny percentage that were poor.

My mum dropped two glasses of orange juice and some cookies on a tray and I carried it to the living room where we cuddled into each other. I took a bite of the cookie and moaned. "Wow. This is so good."

My mum smiled. "I knew you would like it. I started going to that baking academy I've always wanted to and baked a lot a few days ago. I'll pack a few for you to take home."

I nodded and bit into the cookie, enjoying it. "I'm so lucky."

My mum fingered my hair, "Of course you are, but your hair is saying otherwise. Did you cut it yourself?"

I nodded and moaned again, pointing at the cookie. "This is so good. You can start selling these."

Mum laughed. "Stop trying to change the subject."

I fingered my hair, "Still it doesn't look that bad when I tie it into a bun. I didn't have a lot of time and the length was beginning to annoy me, so I'd cut a few inches off. How will the daughter of a hairdresser be this horrible when it comes to cutting hair. I still haven't been able to understand it."

She laughed. "You were never interested, and I'm not interested in forcing you to do something you don't want to. Are you staying the night? I can help you fix it tonight."

I shook my head. "Uh huh. I have to go to work tomorrow, so I'm going back home. I think it can be done before I leave."

My mum dropped my hair and looked into my eyes. "That's true. You mostly come during the weekend. Why are you here so late? Is something going on?"

I shook my head and cuddled into her again. "No. I just missed you and I had a little time to spare."

After I'd seen the woman in my boss office, I'd suddenly missed my mother and thankfully, Jonathan had cancelled our meeting, so I'd decided to make the spontaneous drive to see her."

"Are you sure? How is your job treating you? If you don't like it, you can change it to something else. You know, all I want is for you to be happy. You've been through a lot to not have a good career life."

I shook my head with a laugh. "And start from scratch again? I like my job a lot, and I'm happy. I also need you to be happy."

She nodded. 'I am. I'm happy if my daughter is happy. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

I frowned at her, how did she know what was going on in my life? "Did anybody tell you anything?" I asked suspiciously and she laughed.

"Are you hiding something from me?"

I shook my head. “Not at all. You just sounded like a sorcerer. Any new thing with you? You look good.”

She started shaking her head when she clapped, remembering something, and pushed my head away so she could look at me. “That's true. I totally forgot to tell you I ran into one of your friends.”

“From high school?” That wasn't very strange since I had attended school in this same area.

She shook her head. “No. From college. I went to get grocery the other day and one young man paid for all I bought. He said he recognized me from looking at you. You always denied that I could pass for your sister, I knew you were wrong.” She laughed, pleased with herself.

“Don't you think you're going too far? You obviously look like my mother.” I joked and she frowned playfully. “It was the guy that said so, not me. He first assumed it was because there could be people that looked like you, and he was so surprised that I knew you and was your mother. You should take care of yourself like me, so people can think you're still in your twenties when you're nearly fifty.”

I rolled my eyes. 'Who was this person? Let me let him know that he needs glasses.”

She squeezed her brows, trying to remember, one gesture I'd taken from her. Actually, if it were by face alone, I was almost my mother's clone. We had the same brunette hair and similar winged brows, with the same shade of blue eyes. Our faces were also ovally shaped, but it was always good to keep each other humble. Our style of fun.

“I don't remember if he told me. He just came to me and told me I looked like someone he knew.” If I didn't know him, I would have assumed he was your boyfriend or someone like that.

I laughed. “What does that mean? I had my own share of boyfriends.”

My mum hissed. “Yeah right. I'm going to win the bet about you getting married in your twenties. You are not going to.”

I went silent, there was no way I could tell my mum the story I'd come up with that she could believe me. Everything had been a lie, obviously, and I couldn't drop the ball now. Besides, the arrangement was just for a year and my mum was as tied to this house as I wanted to leave, so there was no fear of her coming to look for me. She didn't even have my address and had never asked for it. Different people, although grieving the same person, did that in their own way, and I couldn't blame her for choosing to grieve my dad by staying in the only home they'd lived together.

My mum glanced at me and covered her mouth. “Wait, are you considering it? Do you have someone you want to marry?”

I forced a playful look into my eyes and nudged her shoulder with mine. “Of course not. You know me, I'm going to die a single woman.”

Mum nudged me back. 'And I'm happy with that. As long as you're happy.”

We fell into a comfortable silence, me going through the things I needed to get ready for the one year I'd sold my soul for and her, I couldn't guess. We rarely asked each other what we were thinking. I could guess it was because we knew we couldn't be honest with each other. My mother and I had what others would call a codependent relationship. We both knew we were alive simply because the other person had not chosen to give up first, which was the main reason I couldn't let the murderer go. I'd gotten a hint, a whisper of hope, and I couldn't bear to part with it regardless of what my mother felt. We both needed justice to really heal, whether she knew it or not, and I was going to do my best to get that justice. In one year.

My mum gasped and stood up, startling me. “Your hair. The day is already gone. I don't want you driving home in the dark.”

I burrowed closer to her. “Not yet. Give me ten more minutes. Hmmm, I love the way you smell.”

She huffed and laid back down. “Take as long as you like.” She whispered.