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2024-10-29 19:42:56Drake stepped out of the crowded bus, straightening his jacket as he made his way towards the towering building of the logistics company where he worked.
Entering into the lobby, he forced a smile at the security guard and made his way to the elevator. The door slid shut and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to exhale.
After a couple of climbs, the elevator stopped on the fifth floor. He stepped out, his footsteps echoing on the polished floor.
Heads turned and conversations hushed momentarily as he walked past. Drake kept his gaze forward, trying to ignore the skeptical eyes that seemed to be staring at him.
“Look who decided to show up?” One of his colleagues began. “Heard your wife and daughter are in the hospital. All these for the wealth of the Willmounts, isn't it?”
Drake's brow furrowed, puzzled by the implication of the statement. He was still processing it, When another colleague chimed in. “Aren't you one hell of a gold digger? I believe you're happy seeing your wife in the hospital, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah,” another colleague smirked. “Trying to get rid of his wife for the money.”
Drake's jaw tightened but he forced himself to remain calm. “It was an accident,” he said, his voice wavering slightly.
“Accident? Really?” The first colleague asked, her voice laced with mock sympathy. “It's quite the coincidence isn't it? Your wife gets into an accident, then you play the grieving husband and then what else?” She paused, her face seemingly looking like she was about to let out a wild laughter.
Drake's eyes met with her's, waiting for her to complete her statement. “And then you potentially inherit everything she owns.”
The insinuations were really cutting deep, hitting Drake like a ton of bricks. “You guys have no idea what you're talking about,” he said, clenching his fist, his knuckles turning white but refrained himself from overreacting.
“Don't we, Drake?” The second colleague mocked. “People are talking about it because to be honest with you, this accident sounds like a plot from a bad thriller.”
Drake could begin to see for himself that his colleagues were deliberately picking on him and it'll be the wisest thing to do if he refuses to engage any further.
He could see that responding would only continue to fuel their cruelty towards him. Instead, he walked straight to the locker room quickly, to get changed into his delivery uniform.
The familiar routine of buttoning his shirt and lacing his shoes provided a small comfort, a gentle reminder that not everything in his life was spiraling out of control.
As he closed the door, he paused, taking a deep breath. His thoughts went back to his wife and daughter. He whispered a silent prayer for their recovery, that nothing bad will happen to them and that they'll soon be back with him.
Reaching the dispatch area, Drake grabbed the packages assigned to him for delivery. He loaded the boxes into his trucks double checking the addresses and routes.
The mundane task of sorting and arranging parcels had become so routinely that he wished there was more to his job.
“Have you loaded everything?” His supervisor, a semi bald headed man asked him.
“Yes sir,” Drake replied, checking one more time just to be sure he hadn't left anything out.
“Make sure not to leave anything out. These packages are very important and nothing must be left out.” The supervisor instructed.
“Definitely sir,” Drake assured him, as the man turned to attend to other delivery agents.
Turning to what he was doing, “Summer…, Michelle,” he sighed. “Get well soon,” he whispered to himself, convincing himself that everything will be back to normal again. He couldn't afford to lose them. In fact, he wouldn't!
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