I’d been back a few days when Jack Holloway called me into his office. Upon entering, I found it vacant, so I waited for his return. I perused his bookshelves, admiring the collection, when my eyes landed on a photo frame.
I picked it up off the shelf and stared at the photo it held. It was Jack; his arm was around a woman in her twenties. She was tall with blonde hair past her shoulders and blue eyes. Plain, but beautiful all at the same time.
“My daughter,” Jack spoke from next to me. I hadn’t even heard him enter the room, let alone walk up to me.
“She’s beautiful,” I replied.
“Yes, she was,” he said, taking the frame from me. A look of longing and sadness filled his eyes, and I felt guilty for bringing her up. “Grace…passed away a few years ago.”
I felt awful that I’d forgotten. “I’m sorry.”
He gave me a small smile. “Thank you.”
He returned the frame back to its rightful place. “Delilah, please sit.” He directed me to take a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of his large mahogany desk. “I called you in because I’m concerned. I don’t mean to pry, but something or someone put you into a catatonic state last week. Since then your attitude has soured.”
“I’m sorry, Sir, I don’t mean to be disruptive.”
“That isn’t why I called you in here. I’m worried about you. While your work has remained in its stellar state, I worry about your health; mental and physical. I’d like to suggest, and I only mean this as a suggestion, that you see a therapist. I know of a great one—”
“I already have a therapist,” I said, interrupting him. “I just haven’t been to see him in a while.”
“Might I suggest giving him a call? You’ve been with me for five years, and I’ve never seen you like this.” He looked at me like he actually cared, and then he said words that made my chest clench. “You know you’re safe here. Protected. I care about all of my employees, and I make sure they’re comfortable at work.”
There was something about the way he’d said I was safe. It made me wonder just how much Jack Holloway knew of the truth.
“Please, know I’m here for you if you need anything, Delilah.”
The week had been difficult.
Get up, go to work, maybe eat lunch, go home, crawl into bed, rinse and repeat.
I never ate dinner anymore, so it didn’t surprise me that after a week, my clothes were starting to fit a little loose. Not falling off me, but it was easier to button my tailored suits than it had been.
I didn’t care. I stopped caring. Caring took too much effort and caring for someone took everything.
Andrew, Caroline, and Ian had begun referring to him as “the asshat.” They didn’t talk about him much, which was okay because I didn’t want to talk about him or talk at all.
So I stopped.
No more talking.
No more smiling, no more caring, no more mask.
No more Lila.
I was existing, not living.
I didn’t put on an act anymore, it took too much effort. Perhaps this was the real me, exposed for all to see.
Thursday afternoon, we were so behind with work, that later in that afternoon, I realized I hadn’t eaten anything that day. I found myself making stupid mistakes and knew I needed to take a break, but at the same time there were only two hours left until I headed out.
Jack had dictated I wasn’t to stay past six for the next week or he would escort me out personally. Any attempts to tell him I was fine fell on deaf ears. He was the boss after all.
Nathan hadn’t spoken to me since I had returned, but today he felt the need to address that I existed.
Nathan broke the silence when I was midway through the Hansen file. “Delilah, go eat something.” In my peripheral, I could see that his head had not turned in my direction; he was still staring at the screen.
“No,” I responded, my eyes still fixated on my monitor, my fingers typing away on the Hansen file.
“Go,” he commanded.