I Swear, Let Me Love You Again

Handle Your Own Shit



NATHAN’S POV.

I stood in my office, staring at the document on my desk. It was a list of questions that the head of public relations thought I might be asked in the upcoming press conference. I had spent hours preparing my answers, but there was still a nagging sense of uncertainty. Would I be able to handle the barrage of questions? Would I say the right thing? I checked my phone again, hoping for a message from her. But the screen remained blank, and the silence was deafening.

“Where is he?” I rolled my eyes at the sound of a familiar voice. Just a second later, Lisa and my mum entered the office with her assistant not too far behind.

Lisa excused herself after telling me she tried to announce their presence.

“Why aren’t you in the suit I picked out? What’s with the regular black tie for goodness sake.” My mum spoke with frustration laced in her tone, was for sure tired of me and just maybe if I was happy I might have joked about tone and facial expression.

I didn’t pay her questions any mind, I knew how good I looked in my black suit matched with a plain black tie. The outfit was complimented with a silver Cartier wristwatch and my Gucci black men’s corporate shoes.

“You know what? You look great, everything is going to go smoothly with or without the presence of that…. opportunist who wants to tarnish your image.” She stood before me helping me to fix my tie.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

“Mum, can you stop with this continuous insult of Lydia. You know the media continuously speculates when they hear of a divorce.” I told her over a little above a whisper so as to prevent the other people present from listening.

“Son, quit with all that crap keeping at the back of your mind, if you don’t handle this well, you will be removed as CEO and I will personally vote you out.” I scoffed at that and she gave a warm tight-lipped smile patting my shoulder.

A knock interrupted the intimate moment of a mother encouraging her only son who she cares about dearly. The door opened revealing Kennedy, the head of public relations dressed in a black tight-fitted corporate gown, almost as if we had planned to match.

“Sir, it’s time. They are waiting for you. Good morning Mrs King.” She turned her attention to my mum who simply darted her attention from Kennedy to me.

“Alright…I will be right there.” My mum gave me a look and then all three women exited out of the office giving me a chance to breathe.

Days like this I wish I had Lydia’s encouraging words even when I didn’t ask for it but it wasn’t possible. I would never hear them ever again. Just like that the screen of my phone lit up and I hurriedly picked it up.

Lorena.

I didn’t tell her a word you said to me.

Handle your own shit and let my girl be.

I locked my phone, tucked it in my breast pocket and made my way to the company’s conference room blocking out any thoughts and hurt. I needed to handle my shit and knew just what to do.

AT THE PRESS CONFERENCE.

“Do you plan to take any leave from the company?

“How are you managing the stress of this situation?”

“What is your message to the public?”

“How do you plan to move forward from this situation?”

Reporters and Journalist bombarded me with questions. Various camera and lights kept shuttering in my face and I was feeling uneasy so I brought out my dark shades to protect my eyes and end the sweating.

“Please one question at a time please. Or Mr King will not be answering any.” Kennedy tried to maintain order and it worked because they all relaxed. A man who looked between his late thirties and late forties dressed in simple blue jeans and a maroon and white checkered long sleeve shirt, raised up his hand and Kennedy asked him to proceed.

“What is your response to the allegations against you on how you not only cheated but abused your wife?” He questioned and I braced up.

“The allegations are false and simply speculations by the media of what could have possibly gone wrong between myself and my ex-wife. There was no cheating between both parties nor any form of abuse.” I responded and a dozen hands were raised again including the man.

“What happened between the two of you then? If indeed you two ended the marriage amicably, why isn’t she here?”

I wasn’t expecting this question and I had no idea how to respond to this. Though the people couldn’t tell, my mum and Kennedy must have noticed and my mum was about to speak but I refuse to allow her to speak ill about Lydia to the masses. I glanced through the room and made eye contact with a familiar face in this intense room, Jacob. He gave a smile and head nod.

I took off my glasses and cleared my throat,

“My ex-wife doesn’t have to be here to prove anything. We separated for personal reasons, reasons any woman who isn’t too happy with the patterns of her husband leaves. A reason in which a woman who feels empty and alone in a marriage could possibly understand. I take full accountability as my wife was perfect but I had issues to deal with.” The room fell quiet and the man sat back in his seat. They had all probably seemed to be digesting my words.

A few seconds later, questions poured in.

“What steps are you taking to address the concerns of your employees and shareholders?”

“Do you plan to take any leave of absence from the company?”

I thought for a second before responding to the following questions considering the fact that the shareholders, employees and my mother were present.

“I plan to….”

They all listened to my words and while some would agree, some wouldn’t. But the feedback of all would be known in 24 hours including the shareholders especially Mr Gonre who kept staring at me with an unreadable expression.


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