MY ENEMY LOVER

I stood at the bus station, waiting patiently to catch the next bus to work, as the cool morning air brushed against my skin. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was an unknown caller. I frowned, ignoring it, but when the call persisted, I answered.

"Hello," the caller's voice boomed. "Am I speaking with Blair Rodrigo?"

"Yes, and who am I speaking with?" I asked in a hurry.l, trying to cover the sudden anxiety tightening in my chest.

"Your brother, Trevor Rodrigo, has been accused of rape." His words hit me like a big slap. "I'll send you an address. You are needed in court."

"What! How?!" I questioned, freaking out, disbelief and panic rising within me. But the caller had already hung up. A moment later, my phone beeped with a new message with the court address.

********

I sat in the courtroom, my hands clenched tightly in my lap, the air thick with anticipation and dread. The room was stark, the pale walls adorned only with the American flag and the court's seal. My gaze was fixed on Trevor, who stood at the defendant's table, his face a mask of stoic resignation. This couldn't be real. It felt like a nightmare but the cold hard seat brought me back I to reality.

Trevor worked as a cleaner at the Williams mansion-along with his girlfriend, Betty. My mind raced, piecing the story I had heard together. Betty was allegedly raped by Xavier Williams, the son of Trevor's boss, but in an effort to manipulate the situation, they bribed the girl's family to coerce her into accusing Trevor instead. The rich ones had pulled their manipulative strings again.

"After hearing from both parties," The judge's voice resounded in the court, pulling me out of my thoughts as I regained my focus.

"This honorable court..." He paused, his gaze fixed on Trevor, who stood in the witness box, visibly consumed by fear and anxiety. "...finds you, Trevor Rodrigo, guilty of the accusation of rape, and hereby sentences you to fifteen years in prison. The court finds Betty George not guilty."

A sharp gasps escaped my lips. I shot to my feet to reassure Trevor, but the police were quicker, preventing me from meeting him.

"I'll do anything to get you out of here, I promise!" I screamed at the top of my voice, but he was already gone.

As anger rose inside me, my eyes darted to Betty and her family, who were sitting amidst the crowd in the courtroom. How much did they pay them to betray Trevor? I turned my gaze into Sam Williams, my gaze locking with his son's Xavier Williams who was smirking with confidence in a corner.

"Barrister Paul!" I called out, spooting him admist the crowd. A young man in his early thirties, dressed in the customary attire of a black robe and white wig, clutching a leather-bound legal briefcase. As he turned to me, I rushed down to meet him.

Slightly out of breath, I went on, my voice trembling, "Barrister Paul, we both know that Trevor...isn't guilty. You know that!"

"Err... Well, Miss Rodrigo, you heard when the girl testified that your brother was the one who had violated her." He replied, shifting uncomfortably, glancing away. "And there was other evidence, along with witnesses to corroborate it... I'm sorry, but, the case was out of my hands."

"What?" I stared at him in disbelief.

He said it with an air of indifference, "I really tried my best to help you and your brother despite the little you paid me, but I guess you just have to suck it up." He added, "It is just fifteen years, after all."

If only looks could kill, then he would have been dead by that moment as I shot him a deadly glare.

"If you would excuse me," and with that, he walked away.

My phone buzzed in my hand. It was the hospital. Dread settled on me as I answered, "Dr James."

"Miss Rodrigo, you have to find every way to get the money. Your grandmother's condition is deteriorating rapidly. Her kidney has ceased to function." He continued, "If the surgery is not carried out as soon as possible. I'm afraid there's a significant risk that she may not survive much longer."

"Please, Dr James. She is all I...we've got." I begged, my voice trembling.

I had been tested and confirmed as a potential donor for my grandmother. However, the delay in the entire process was primarily due to the cost of the transplant.

Feeling suffocated after hearing what the doctor said, I begged, "Dr. James, please, I am begging you to do everything in your power to save my grandmother I promise I'll find a way to get the money... I'll pay you."

He replied, almost immediately, "Hmm...I'm afraid there is nothing we can do, Miss Rodrigo. It's only fair that you deposit at least half of the money before we can do anything for her. Remember, we have treated her without collecting a dime from you." He continued, "Or better still, you can take her to another hospital."

A brief silence lingered over the line before the doctor's voice returned, saying, "Have a nice day."

The whole world seemed to be closing in on me and I wondered if I could escape before it I got trapped. How was I supposed to come up with a whopping sum of twenty million dollars for her kidney transplant when I only had three thousand dollars in my account?

Frustrated, I crouched down in front of the court, people passing me by. I caught a glimpse of Betty. Attempting to call out her name, another call came in again-this time, my short-tempered boss, Micheal.

I worked as a waitress at a restaurant not far from where I lived. While the pay wasn't sufficient to cover all my expenses, it was still reasonable.

"Mr Micheal, good morning," I greeted anxiously, already anticipating his outburst.

He shouted, "What is good about the morning, Blair? Huh?!" I could picture his facial expressions as he talked, "You tell me what's good about the morning. Your shift was supposed to start at 9am, and it's now past ten, yet you're not here."

"...errm, Sir, I-" I started to say but he cut me off.

He thundered, "Shut it, Blair! I am not paying you to slack off or just play around. You are fired!"

Blair's POV

"You're fired!"

"I'm sorry, Mr Micheal. You can't do that to me. I....need this job!" I pleaded, but the line had already gone dead.

I stared at my phone, tears welling up my eyes. "How am I going to handle all of these problems at once? Where do I start from?" I asked myself as the tears finally streamed down my cheeks.

********

Tears blurred my vision as I stared at my grandmother, who lay almost lifeless on the hospital bed. The soft hum of machines and the distant chatter of hospital staff provided the backdrop for this uncertain moment.

I was in a mixture of hope, fear, and uncertainty-not knowing what would happen next with my grandmother's life hanging in the balance, like a paused scene in life's movie. Her stillness was unsettling, and I couldn't help but wonder what it meant to be 'in-between'.

I clutched her frail hands, hoping to get some kind of response or at least anything, even though it was little to prove a sign of life, but all was in vain.

"Grandma, it's me, Blair. I'm here now. I miss you so much. I don't know if you can hear me, but if you can..." My voice cracked, "Please, come back to us. We really miss you a lot."

Wiping my tears, I chuckled, "I miss your delicious strict coffee." I asked as memories-the countless moments we have shared together flooded in my mind, "You're not gonna leave us here right?"

The heavy welled tears began to roll down my cheek as I sniffed in. All of these started after my mother abandoned us, choosing a wealthier man over my father due to his nonchalant attitude and gambling habits. I was just twelve years old at the time, while Trevor was only ten.

My dad had been an obsessive gambler-he would have gambled away his last breath if he could. Sometimes, I wondered how we weren't used as collateral.

Months after my mother's disappearance, Father brought us to his mother's place-our grandmother-promising to return for us when he became rich. We spent twelve years waiting for him. Abandoned by the very people who brought us into this world, we were left in the loving hands of our grandmother, who now lay on this sick bed.

I shook my head, sighing deeply as I thought of how it all began. First, it was muscle cramps, which we dismissed as a sign of old age. Then, her feet began to swell. I would massage them, singing sweet songs to her during our leisure time.

Those were the times she tried to be strong, holding it all in, but the weight was becoming unbearable. Now, I have lost the only job I relied on.

"Grandma, please wake up. Life isn't the same without you. I miss your voice, laughter, and the melodious music you sing while making those world-best sandwiches for us. You have to be fine. I'm trying but it seems nothing is changing." I sobbed, my voice cracking.

"Worse part of it is that Trevor has been accused of rape at his workplace and now he has been sentenced to fifteen years imprisonment. I gave out all my savings just to get him a truthful lawyer, and the bastard didn't even try to prove his innocence-complaining the money I gave him was little."

I continued, adjusting myself slightly on the stool I sat on, "I'm sure he had been bribed with lot of money because he also knew...he knew Trevor is innocent of the accusation."

"And, there is you," I trailed off, my voice trembling. "The doctor said that I should pay twenty million dollars before the surgery can be done, Grandma. Where do I get such an amount?"

After a couple of minutes, I sniffed, gradually gathering my resolve, "Where to get money is the only factor delaying it, as I have been tested and it has been confirmed that I can donate one of my kidneys for you. I just... I just need to find some way to get that money. Grandma, be strong while I find every meaning to get you back on your feet. I've always known you as a resilient woman. I just need you to hold on a little while longer. I'll find a way to secure the funds, by all means. I promise."

"Grandma, I'll do all it takes to get enough money for your kidney transplant. I'll make sure I save you and Trevor."

With one last look at my grandmother, I rose quietly from my chair and left the ward. I couldn't give up. Not now.

********

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice a car speeding towards me, until it was too late. A dirty puddle of water from the rain splashed over me, soaking my already-drenched clothes. I gasped, shivering as the cold clung more to me. The car didn't even slow down. I glared at it as it drove away still in speed.

Just when I thought the day couldn't get any worse the car reappeared and halted right in front of me.

I froze momentarily, my fists clenched to my sides, as the door swung open.

A young man stepped out, his appearance screaming wealth. His blue suit was perfect, the opposite of my disheveled look. He walked toward me with confidence and arrogance written all over his face, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

I remained still, standing my ground patiently, waiting for him to reach me so I could unleash my anger as well as my pent-up frustration upon him.

"Why were you walking there anyway?" he asked with an air of arrogance, his tone dripping with condescension. The smirk on his face only deepened as if he was amused by the whole situation.

I raised my brow in surprise, disbelief spreading across my face. "Seriously? Why was I walking there?" I repeated taking a step forward, my eyes wide with rage.

"Are you blind?"

"Are you blind? You drove carelessly, splashing dirty water on me, and all you could say is why I was walking there? Tell me, where else should I walk if not there?" My voice trembled with anger as I raised my eyebrows in disbelief.

His lips twisted into a disdainful smirk, "Just because you're rich, you think you can get away with anything! Well, hell no! Who do you think you are to question me on your arrogant behavior?"

"Who I am? You are yet to know. I don't have time for any drama right now," he said with nonchalance.

His full lips twisting into disdain, "Aren't you shamelessly making such a fuss because of a worthless dress? Huh?"

I retorted, "Oh really. Yes, it might be worthless to you, but I value what I have because I work hard to have them. Okay, Mr. Money?"

He dipped his hand into his right pocekt, and pulled out a bundle of dollar notes, waving them in my direction. "Here. This should be able to get you a new dress. Use the rest for your...personal needs."

Angered by his proud behavior, I slapped him hard across his cheeks, my hand stinging from the impact.

"Was I just slapped by you this low life commoner?" He asked, rage swelling up inside him.

"Yes, sure you were...and I'll do it again if you dare cross my lane," I said pointing a finger at him. I grappes the dollar notes from his outstretched hand and tore them into pieces, "I don't need your money. To hell with you and your money, arrogant fool."

As I walked past him, I purposely hit him by the shoulder.

********

I pulled out my best dress from the closet and got ready for my interview, staring at myself in the mirror. On the outside, I looked prepared, but on the inside, I was nervous. My stomach was churning with nerves, and my heart pounding in my ears.

"Blair, relax," I reassured myself, taking in deep breaths in an attempt to soothe my frayed nerves. "You are smart and brave...You can handle this."

But deep down, I couldn't stop thinking about all the problems I had to face. I needed money quickly for my grandmother's transplant surgery and to hire a new lawyer for my brother's case. Losing my job at the restaurant had made everything worse, and I was drowning in debt.

When I found a job opening at The Wyatts, a big fashion house, I decided to give it a shot. But that morning, I also had another interview lined up for a marketing role at a smaller company.

The job didn't excite me-the description was basic, the company wasn't well-known, and I was so discouraged that I thought about canceling the interview.

"What's the point?" I muttered to myself, feeling defeated. The thought of another rejection was too much to bear. As I sipped my coffee, I opened my email to send a polite withdrawal message to the company.

But as my fingers hovered over the keyboard, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I just sat there.

Just then, a new email notification popped up on my screen. To my utmost surprise, it was an invitation for a final interview-at the big fashion house, The Wyatts, where I had applied earlier.

********

The sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow on my bedroom. Today was no ordinary day. It was the morning of my job interview-the gateway to a new chapter in my life.

I stirred awake, a surge of excitement mixed with nerves coursing through my veins.

I got down from the taxi and paid the driver. Massive glass windows gleamed under the sunlight. The building's sharp and modern design was decorated by vines that climbed up the walls. The balconies were decorated with beautiful flowers.

I walked toward the archway supported by tall pillars. The whole place looked wealthy and I felt drawn to step inside and see what was there.

I stared at the building, nearly drooling in awe. Snapping back to reality, I realized it was nearly 8 a.m, and I rushed inside. Entering the reception area, I was so entranced by its splendor that I nearly let my bag slip from my grasp.

I continued walking as joy and happiness took over me-this was an opportunity I had been waiting for. If I thought the exterior decor was impressive, the interior decor was even more stunning.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I made my way across the lobby, my steps echoing softly on the polished floor.

As I approached the reception desk, I noticed the receptionist, a strikingly attractive young woman who seemed to be in her early twenties, engrossed in some paperwork.

"Good morning," I said, my voice steady, smiling warmly. "I'm Blair Rodrigo. I have an interview scheduled for today-this morning."

"You are welcome, Miss Rodrigo. The waiting area is on the third floor, second door on your left," the receptionist informed me.

"Thank you," I replied with a nod.

Upon reaching the waiting area, I saw many applicants who appeared more professionally dressed than I was. I couldn't help but feel a bit inferior, and my nervousness resurfaced.

As I took my seat beside a young woman who seemed to pass a judgmental glance my way, I heard a male voice call my name, "Is Miss. Rodrigo here?" He asked as he entered the waiting area.

"Yes, I am," I answered, my voice tinged with uncertainty. My brows knitted together in confusion as I pondered what might be happening.

"Come with me. The CEO is requesting a personal interview with you."

The eyebrows of the other applicants raised at the young man's words, equally surprised, just like I was.

Despite the swirl of apprehension clouding my thoughts, I acquiesced and trailed behind the man. We navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the corporate tower, our footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors.

I could feel the weight of the tension pressing down on my shoulders. Each step I took felt heavier than the last, as if the ground beneath me was slowly giving way.

After what felt like an eternity but was merely a few minutes, we reached a pair of imposing double doors. The brass plaque on the door gleamed under the corridor's ambient lighting, displaying the title "Chief Executive Officer" with an air of grandiosity.

The man accompanying me raised his hand and delivered a measured, courteous knock. A moment later, a voice emanated from within-a voice that was rich, and undeniably authoritative.

It held the unmistakable timbre of someone accustomed to command. "Come in," It said.

The floors were covered in plush Persian rugs, and the windows were framed with heavy curtains in a deep burgundy. The whole room screamed power and wealth.

As I scanned the room, my eyes fell upon a chair whose back was facing me. "Good morning, Sir...Ma," I said in a very low voice.

I could tell there was someone seated in it as I could see glimpses of dark, shining hair, but what I couldn't tell was why he or she had the chair turned away from me.

Patiently awaiting a response, I remained at my standing point, and soon the chair turned slowly.

I was faced with none other than the man who had splashed dirty water on me a few weeks ago.

"You!!" I exclaimed, shocked.

"It's a pleasure to meet with you again, Miss Blair Rodrigo," he greeted with a smirk, his tone full of mischief.