“Yes, of course.”
I walked over and sat on the couch, placing my large tote beside me. I sensed his eyes on me as I carefully sat down. “I hear you are here to invest,” he noted as he sat down across from me. Daimon looked perfect. His eyes just as blue as ever, his pinstriped suit perfectly crisp.
“Yes, I am. You see I have some money now and I need someone, like yourself, to help me make more,” I stated, carefully trying to lay out my crumbs so Daimon would bite.
“I see your portfolio says you have just over twenty-five million,” he said gruffly as he looked at me.
“Yes. I do,” I said softly.
“So what is it that you want from our company?” Daimon asked, his face not giving anything away. My nerves were making me a wreck. What if he had found someone else? What if he didn’t want me the way I wanted him? After all, a few months had passed, and the doubts crept in. Did he still love me?
“Well, I have a contract I’m in the mood to entice you with,” I said, sounding calm on the outside, while my heart pounded erratically in my chest.
“A contract?” he questioned.
“Yes, but I do have a few stipulations,” I stated.
“Please tell me them.” He leaned back into his leather chair and brought his hand to his stubbled chin. I reached into my large tote and took out a violin case. Daimon’s stern business face began to crack. I clicked the case and turned it around. It took a lot of effort, time and money, but I finally found a Stradivarius that looked much like his before he destroyed it. I then took out the divorce papers he had signed, my signature still missing.
“This is my deal. Be with me, be my husband, travel and experience life with only me. If you don’t want that, then I’ll sign and walk away.” I smiled confidently, trying to act that if he rejected my offer, I would be just fine.
“So now you have money, you want me?” he asked curtly.
“Now I have money, I no longer need to depend solely on you. I want you, not your fucking money,” I said bluntly, losing a bit of my composure, his words jabbing at my well thought-out plan.
“Daimon?” Linda sang as she walked in smiling. “Are you done with your client? Our reservation is at two.” She stopped once she saw me.
“Hello, Linda.” I smiled wildly, shaking my head. “I guess I'm too late.” I laughed. I reached over taking a pen off his coffee table and signed the divorce papers. I then took out a check. On it was written the whole amount he had given me. “This is all the money you gave me,” I said grimily as I looked at him. “Goodbye, Daimon.” I stood up and took my bag.
I then turned to Linda and grinned, trying really hard to hide my pain. “Enjoy your late lunch, Linda.”
Before I rushed out of there, I stopped. “Think of the violin as a parting gift,” I said over my shoulder. I then closed the door behind me and almost dashed to the elevator. Both humiliated and devastated, I struggled to slow my feet. I pressed the elevator button a hundred times praying it would come sooner. Once the doors opened, I ran in and watched as they closed, finally snapping my bond with Daimon for good.
Daimon
High School
“Mom?” I came home running from school, excited to see her. Maybe she wouldn’t be sick today. She was sick all the time now. Dad wasn’t nice to her. But I at least loved my mom. I loved her a lot. “Mom?” I shouted as I ran around our big house. The butler tried to grab me but I kept running and laughing.
“Master Daimon, stop your running in the house!” the butler said.
He was always mean. I didn’t like him that much. I ran around the kitchen island and up the back stairs. My mom would be in her room, like always. I ran there, but she wasn’t there. I ran down the hall to her piano room. The piano was gone. I slowly walked inside; my stomach ached as I felt like something was wrong.
“She’s gone,” Dad said from behind me.
“Gone? Gone where?” I started to panic.
“Gone for good,” my father said coldly.
“Where did you send Mom? What did you do to her?” I shouted.
“Something I should have done a long time ago,” he remarked.
“Enough, Guilin, honestly, is this your child or not?” My grandfather appeared. “Come here, Daimon.” My grandfather walked up to me and knelt down to my level. “Your mother is sick and she’s in a hospital for now. When she gets better, I’ll take you to see her, okay?” he said reassuringly.
“I want my mom,” I retorted.
“I know Daimon, I know.”
“Daimon?” I heard my grandfather call out to me as he stood at the threshold of my bedroom. He always woke me up from the recurring dream I had around Christmas time. My mom left a few years back and I still hadn’t really seen her. She was an alcoholic. That was her illness, drinking. My father’s constant cheating had finally pushed her over the edge.