What Can You Not Buy With Money?

The day my life fell apart came at me before I realized what was going on. Fate is a cruel master, as I will elaborate more on it.

Burgess never called to pick me up like he normally did, so I took the city bus to the corporate building.

The moment I entered the lobby, I felt something amiss, as Vern wasn’t at the front desk.

“Mary,” Vern had just left the elevators, pulling at the cuffs of his shirt nervously and his face was tight with confusion and worry. “Mr. Burgess… he wants you in his office now. He looked scary.”

I went to the elevators, my chest ready to implode from my curiosity and stress. I wondered what it was now. My intuition told me that it had something to do with Bohr, so I impatiently moved and fidgeted like a bird trapped in an unfamiliar box.

When I finally reached the top floor, I quickly flew out of the mechanical doors. Terra Slater was outside by my desk, her arms folded as she leaned against the table lazily. Her face was cold and unreadable, a disgusted frown on her face.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” she muttered.

I didn’t have time for her, so I brushed her words aside. I quickly entered Burgess’ office to see that Burgess was standing with his back to me. He was pressing his hands to his desk and leaning against it as though struggling to stand. I could see he was trembling slightly and I rushed up to him.

“Ben, what’s wrong?”

His head swiftly spun at me, his face so hateful and fiery that I took a step back abashed. “You lied,” he quietly hissed, and I saw that there was a glint of moisture at the corners of his furious eyes.

Adrenaline rushed through me and I started breathing rapidly. “What do you mean?” I didn’t remember lying to him—but my brain was going at breakneck speed trying to make sense of the situation.

“Quit the bullshit,” Burgess snapped powerfully, his voice rising by the millisecond. On his desk there were pictures strayed about, on top of a flimsy manila folder. He grabbed one particular picture tightly in his grip while slamming his grasp onto my shoulder. “What is this, then?”

My eyes had to adjust to the blurry image as it was pressed against my face, but then I felt sick to my stomach when I saw it a picture of myself. But I didn’t recognize the scene, it was me with my bare upper body in a bed. And there was a partner whose pose was clinging onto my body intimately. He, too, was undressed. It wasn’t Burgess… no—it was Charles Walker.

But it didn’t make any sense—no sense at all. “No… it can’t be…”

Burgess was beginning to increase in his rate of breathing, his face turning red with rage. “You’ve made me a fool, Hall.”

“No—I never slept with him! I never did anything!” My voice had gone shrill but my protests were of no use.

“You're a liar! The picture's right here! Do you think I'm an idiot?!” Burgess grabbed his desk and flung it powerfully away. The furniture flung to the window and caused the glass to cracks like spider webs spreading quickly across.

Flinching, I flung back and pressed my body to the wall as I watched Burgess lay waste to his office. In one swift motion, he picked up a recliner and threw it angrily at the wall across from me; the many pictures that had been laid out on his desk flew around the room like white leaves on a midautumn morning.

Shaking, I began to weep quietly, sobbing while stooping down to pick up a few of the pictures. There were many scenes—horrible images that tortured me looking at them. Some of Walker and I in the most intimate of moments and other painful images of me kissing him, holding him, my face looked like I loved Walker in the way I loved Ben.

It wasn’t fair, for none of it was true. I had no idea how these pieces of false evidence could even exist for none of them ever occurred.

Burgess was screaming, angrily lashing out at any inanimate object that was in his way. His powerful strength was causing the room to shake or maybe it was merely my own body.

Finally, he stopped to catch his breath, his eyes clenched tightly as he leaned against a wall and panted uncontrollably. He was fighting back dried sobs, and when he finally calmed down he straightened up and glared at me. “Get out,” he croaked. “Don’t come back.”

“Ben, I never did anything with Walker! Where did you get these pictures? They’re not real—they can’t be!” I was crying out, desperate for him to believe me. But the scary thing was I was beginning to not believe myself. I was squeezing the pictures I had in my hands as tightly as I could, wondering how they came to be. I wondered if I was insane—or suffered amnesia—or anything.

“I said get out. Just—go." He looked away, as though the sight of me was too horrid to gaze upon. "Or I’ll call security to escort you.”

“Ben!” I took a step forward, reaching a hand out to him but I felt so nauseated and sick I thought I was about to die. It felt like my heart had already obliterated, and I was internally bleeding. My blood had no organ to pump blood with. My breath became shallow.

“I don’t want to ever see you again!” Ben angrily proclaimed as he pointed to the door, his face slack but his eyes still angry. “Leave. NOW.”

I lost my balance as I turned to obey, catching my footing as I wheezed and hiccupped like a maniac. I quickly left the office, greeted by Terra Slater. She was watching me with her scornful stare, and after a second of studying me she put her hands back and started to sarcastically applaud.

“Bravo,” she patronized, “You are indeed a wonderful actress.”

I opened my mouth to cry out and defend myself, but at that moment I knew I had finally died on the inside. I just turned away, not caring anymore of what happened to me. I could have fallen off a bridge and plummeted to hell—and I wouldn’t have screamed in fear. All I would do was cry. I trudged in a daze to the elevators.

But before I left, I remembered the Smartphone in my pocket. I took it out, looking at it emptily then dropping it in the nearest trashcan as I passed by. Hearing it hit the plastic bin was like hearing your heartstrings being snapped by dull scissors.

“Mary?” Vern stood up and quickly tried to get my attention as I reached the lobby floor. “What happened? You’re… crying…” Vern put his hand on my shoulder but I pulled away. He continued to follow me, attacking my empty shell of a body with questions and worried remarks.

When I left the building, the sun was high in the sky and the weather was hot—it was so painful to feel the March air. It was like the very world was mocking me with its cheer and happiness.

I wasn’t looking where I was going, so I missed my step and tripped. I fell to the ground, my entire body exploding in agony. I let out a silent scream as I covered my face to cry. I didn’t care if people around saw me or stared, I wanted to just die.

“Oh my God, Mary!” Vern knelt over me, pulling out his cell phone to make a call. “Hello? Lucy? Quick! Mary needs you and Walker here now—she’s—just hurry! She needs to be taken home!”