Your emotions are the slaves to your thoughts, and you are the slave to your emotions.

- Elizabeth Gilbert

The clock stroked around midnight, the tone ringing throughout the apartment. The night turned eerily quiet, making the whole scenario heavy for me.

Switching on the lights, I walked through the living room to my bedroom with my little girl sleeping calmly in my arms. When I reached the inside of my bedroom, I closed the door letting Tyler make himself comfortable however he wanted in my living room.

Thank god, the room was cleaned enough. Well, I was never the one to be messy. Sure, I wasn't that organised but I kept my surroundings as clean as I could. I laid Lydia over the bedsheets carefully without waking her up.

She looked so fragile with her face scrunched up from whatever she was seeing beneath her closed eyelids. I smoothed out the creases from her forehead and took out all the clips from her hair aware of her sleepy state. Next came her shoes then the socks. And then I covered her with the thin duvet but I didn't get up.

Making myself as comfortable as I could on the edge of the bed, I gazed at her small baby face. I didn't know children also harboured many emotions knowing someone died. I meant she was just born when her mother died and now, she was still very small to understand the concept of death so I failed to see where this anger came from. Maybe children also take deaths just as hard as adults do.

Moreover she didn't know her mother very well but she still felt angry. Did she ever tell anyone she felt angry? Tyler never told me such things. Hell, he didn't even say how his wife died or ...oh god, I didn't know anything. He didn't tell me anything other than just his wife died.

Wasn't I suppose to know everything? I was marrying him for God's sake. I had every right to know. Marriage wasn't a joke. Sure, we hastily decided to marry and for some odd reasons too but that still didn't change the fact this marriage was as real as it could get.

And this marriage gained me a daughter. A daughter who should be my first priority. So I had every right to know what happened. This girl, this little girl I was gazing at so intently was a happy, bouncy child but all of a sudden, talking about death was easy for her. What did I miss? What did everyone miss? I had to know or else I would be suffocated badly by all these questions, all these worries for Lydia.

The click of the door opening made me realise Tyler came in and he was waiting. I could feel his gaze and I could feel his worries. I bet he was thinking Neil did something to us but actually he was being helpful, well....helpful in his way. He was strange but in a good way.

"Are you going to tell me now?" Tyler asked as he leaned over the door.

I breathed a sigh and stood up. "I need to change."

He pushed himself from the door and came around me to stand beside the bed. He touched me on my arm and stated. "Claire, this is my daughter. I need to know if something happened."

Raising my head to meet his tired eyes, I repeated. "I need to change."

Concern etched his handsome face. The slight hunch fatigue in his shoulders let me know, it wasn't just me who was tired. Even he looked tired but before I could sooth his worries away and make him relax, I had to relax myself. And my dress wasn't helping my body to relax. I had to get out of it first.

Tyler turned away and sat on the spot which I vacated seconds ago beside Lydia, gesturing me. "Go. I am not going anywhere."

Since I already knew that, I turned and pulled out all the accessories from my hands, ears, and my hair to keep them on top of the dresser. Then I walked toward the drawers and took out a loose T-shirt and black shorts.

Looking over my shoulder, my eyes found his figure sitting on the bed, his hands gripping the sheets by his side, his head dropped down. I just knew he would be there even after I came out of the bathroom.

After fifteen minutes of quick shower, I found the same sight in the bedroom. Only difference was the tuxedo jacket and a bow draped over my dresser. His watch over the bedside table and he was on his phone sitting over that edge of the bed. Didn't he realise there was more space on the bed? I admitted the bed wasn't that big enough to fit his six foot something figure but at least he could sit over it properly.

Shrugging, I went around the bed to the dresser in front of him. Picking up the rubber band on the side, I put my slightly damp hair on top of my head with the band. In the mirror, I saw him putting his phone on the side table and watching my every move.

Again I walked around the bed, purposely ignoring him and lifted myself on the space where he failed to sit himself. I got under the duvet and leaned on the headboard as I started caressing Lydia's unruly hair.

From beneath my lashes, I saw him rubbing his face and then he opened his mouth. "Claire, would you--"

"What was her name?" I asked him softly, cutting whatever he was about to say. "What was your wife's name?"

The other side of the bed froze along with his body. I raised my head just as he turned his face away, clenching his jaw tight. I knew this would hurt him but I had to ask him. Back in the car, I asked for Lydia to stay with me only. Nobody asked him to stay but since he sticked around, why not satisfy my curiosity? Why not get the answers I had been looking for?

Did he love his wife that much? I had been asking myself that question since the day this six foot something guy barged into my life and sat himself upon a small coffee table that couldn't even handle my weight but somehow miraculously it handled his weight till he could propose me...well somewhat propose.

After a few moments of silence and him composing himself, he met my eyes and asked half-heartedly. "Could you at least make some space for me? This edge isn't comfortable."

I sighed as I started pulling Lydia to my side slowly, aware of her deep sleepy breaths. Tonight, he couldn't get away from my questions. No matter what, I was going to get my answers.

He lifted himself on the bed and leaned on the headboard like me. He could've done that before. Idiot kept on sitting uncomfortably on the edge. I rolled my eyes and repeated myself. "Name?"

The first thing I wanted to know was this dead woman's name. I couldn't just keep on calling her dead woman. Heck, I was doing it again.

Focus, Claire!

Tyler combed his fingers through his hair and looked at Lydia with a hooded expression.

"Laura."

My hands paused on Lydia's head when I heard the name. Laura...it was a beautiful name. I bet the owner was as beautiful as the name to make this six foot something of a man, fall in love with her. How did she look? Was she like Lydia? Touching the red strands of hair, I asked him curiously. "Did she have red hair?"

It had to be because I didn't find any red haired relatives in that party. "Yes, Lydia got her hair." Tyler nodded. "Sometimes, I see her in Lydia."

That was pretty much summed up for me but still, I had to know from him. Though when the words came out from him, it hurt. Lydia reminded him of her mother everyday so that would make Tyler having Laura in his mind everyday.

Among all these, where did I fit in? I turned my head away from him, trying to tell myself that whoever was on his mind didn't concern me and that Lydia was the only one for me to be concerned about. But who was I kidding?

Day by day, my emotions toward this man got stronger. I bet by the time we married, I would be halfway in love with him or would it be fully in love with him..? No! I wasn't anywhere near love.

Look what it did to me with Sean. I thought I learned my lesson with him. I didn't want to trust anyone with my heart anymore but this time with Tyler I wasn't even aware that my heart already got involved. It had been only few weeks since I knew him. There was no denying, I was physically attracted to him but I wasn't prepared for my heart to get involved. I thought maybe somewhere along our years in married life would make me fall in love with him but now? So early? This was unexpected. How gullible was I?!

Was it even love? When he wasn't with me, I thought of him. When he was with me, I felt content. When he touched me, I felt goosebumps all over me. The good kinds though. Did all these have to do something with love? These feelings weren't that strong when I was with Sean. But with Tyler, it was hard to ignore the constant bubbles of emotions in me. Maybe, it was all an infatuation.

But all these thoughts had to wait because his voice snapped me back to the present situation. "But I don't want to see her in Lydia." He snarled out. His face scrunched up in disgust. His hand fisted the bedsheets at his side. There was no light in his eyes, just grey clouds waiting to strike thunders, waiting to brew a storm and just explode. "I don't even want Lydia to remember her."

A hard look crossed over his face. This strange look on Tyler's face was mixed with disgust, anger, grief and hurt. What happened to make him feel like this? Did Laura do something to him? Was that why he doesn't talk about his wife? I thought it hurt him to talk about her since he loved her so much. I didn't think there would be any other reason behind it.

If he, himself had suppressed emotion toward Laura's death then how would he know about Lydia's?

I gazed at him intently but he didn't meet my eyes. He avoided them.

"Why?"

He shook his head at me. "I didn't sit here to talk about me and my dead wife. I want to know what happened tonight."

Fine, he didn't sit here to talk about Laura and him but I was all ears to know about them. I didn't know what but something was itching inside me to be in clear with Tyler's emotion toward Laura who was dead but still, I felt like she'd keep on being a barrier between me and Tyler if we didn't eventually talk about her but fine, as for him I'd let this matter go for tonight only.

Because tonight I wanted to talk about Lydia anyway. "When did Lydia know about her mother's death?" I asked him, purposely ignoring his irritation filled eyes. I wasn't giving him his answer that easily. I needed to get my own answers first.

Maybe he figured that out as well because he answered my question. "When she was around four, when she started going to pre-school actually. Why?"

Again, I ignored his question and pondered on his answers. When she started going to school, huh? What happened in school?

"How did she know?" I inquired him with a frown on my face. Suddenly, there was a faraway look in his eyes as if he was trying to remember that day.

"There was a event in school. Some kind of event. I didn't know what but she dressed up for it. Mom took her." He said.

"Really? This is your daughter and you don't know what goes in her school?" I frowned at him.

He threw his hands in the air and exclaimed defensively. "Hey, I was new in business. I was a lot busier than you think."

Instantly, I slapped his hand, indicating the slight movement of Lydia. "Shh. Keep your voice down."

He rolled his eyes and rubbed the hand I slapped but kept his voice down when he continued. "Anyway, I remember her stomping in the house and sniffing around. Thankfully my mom was there to talk to her. So, mom said that sh--"

"Why didn't you go to her yourself?" I narrowed my eyes at him, cutting his words. Was he that busy to console his crying daughter? I think my face showed the accusation because again he got into his defensive mood.

"I didn't know how to handle little kids."

Looking down at Lydia then him, I nodded. "That you still don't know."

He shrugged accepting whatever I said. "That's why you are here." He pointed out to me.

I didn't know whether I should be offended or upset by his words. True, I was in their life only for Lydia but still, was I always going to be the mother of his daughter? What about being his wife?

I inclined my head to him, making him explain further. "I mean you're good with kids and I thought they need a mother more than a father."

Shaking my head in a no motion, I replied him. "No, they need both the parents but a single father can also raise them if he tried harder."

I think he got the underlining jibe I meant for him because he turned away from me and muttered under his breath. "I had my reasons."

"Clearly." I snorted with a roll of my eyes. "Why so secretive, Mr. Sanders?"

The mystery around him, beckoned me, lured me to his side...literally. I didn't even know I had leaned my upper body to his side and that my head was inches away from his shoulder. Even when we were sitting, he had to be a head taller than me.

But what he did next, made me pout just like Lydia, when she didn't get her way. Tyler laid his palm over my forehead and I thought he was being concerned about my body temperature -which was high by the way due to a certain close proximity- but no, he pushed me away, bringing me to my past position.

"Do not go all detective on me. It's not the right time." He said, with a tint of amusement in his eyes.

"When is the right time?" I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Some other time." He answered. The promise of divulging his secrets clear in his eyes. He would tell me but some other time and that was good enough for me. "But now, can we get back to what I was saying before you childishly interrupted me?"

"Childishly interrupted you?" I flatly asked him. Since when did I became childish? Admit I watch disney fairytales in my spare time while dipping Oreos in milk but that never qualified me as a child. Adults do that too. Example, me.

He nodded as if calling me childish wasn't a offence to my adult self. "Yes, don't interrupt me again. I told you I don't like it one bit."

Oh, he told me alright but I had been with him for few days and he didn't seem that intimidating like before. "You know that's not going to happen." I pointed out to him the obvious habit of mine.

He smirked. "You did it on the first day."

"That's just one time! One time, Mr. Sanders." I cried out but in small voice mindful of our daughter sleeping between us. We migh---wait. All of my thoughts screeched to a sudden stop.

Our? Our daughter?

I looked down at the little angel, little ball of sunshine and smiled.

Yes, our daughter.

"Why are you smiling? I didn't say anything funny. I am serious."

I looked up at him in surprise. "What?"

I had been so into my thoughts, talking to my inner self so intently that I failed to hear whatever he had said. I really should stop doing that. Chloe always told me, it spaces me out to some other world and makes me look like a imbecile to others. Yeah, she offended me a lot but elder sister, everybody! That was her job to pick on me but she did it with no hurt feelings between us. That was just sister love. You'd know it if you have a sister.

And I was doing it again but this time, thankfully I heard what he said before it disappeared into deaf ears.

"Did you even hear what I said?"

"Uhh...no?" I sheepishly answered but it sounded more of a question making me cringe inside.

"Where are you? Are you even with me?" He asked me, impatiently.

"Can you not make a big deal out of it? Just repeat." I muttered. Repeating wouldn't hurt anybody. I was just thinking. It was human nature. Not my fault.

He sighed but nonetheless repeated. "I said, don't call me Mr. Sanders. It makes me feel old."

That immediately made my eyebrows jump up. Really? That was it? I thought he said something important but on a second thought, it made the corners of my mouth tilt up. Old, huh?

My head leaned toward his side, getting really close to him and I whispered in a grave tone. "Sorry to pop your bubble, Mr. Sanders but that isn't for your name. It's your real age that makes you feel old."

He had been listening to my words so intently that by the time I finished, he was already glaring at me with imaginary smokes swooshing out of his ears. "Excuse me?!"

Exactly the same response he gave me on our first family outing but this time he wouldn't be getting the same timid response from me. I started snickering, not fearing his wrath.

"I'm not scared of you anymore. You can't back me down with that tone." I clicked my tongue and flicked his nose. Told you, I was really close to him. Like -getting in his face- close.

He looked taken aback. He touched his nose and looked at it then me as if not believing I just did that. I myself couldn't believe I didn't fear him anymore and that I didn't feel that intimidated by him. His hard impression kind of wore off me as the days passed away.

Finally he responded but I was expecting his anger, not admiration and shock. His eyes said it all. "You're not?"

"Nope." I shook my head and mocked, loosening some dry hair from my hair band in the process. "Why so shock? Didn't have anyone talking to you this way? Huh?"

I smirked, basking in my glory. I was not scared of him anymore. Not of this man, this powerful man who had the power to do anything. I didn't know how it happened but now, I didn't fear to say whatever I want in his face. This was just great. This felt great.

"No." He turned to me, his grey eyes on me. "No one dared to."

"Until me." I smirked. I was sure my face radiated how I felt at that moment. "Now I can say whatever I want in your face."

Instantly, he narrowed his eyes at me. "I am not sure whether I like this newfound courage of yours."

I shrugged giddily. "Well, you're going to have to deal with this courage now."

There was a small hint of smile on his alluring mouth. I tried really hard not to get sucked into my dirty thoughts. "Not really." He shrugged back, casually leaning back and flaking his hands in front of him. "I could just get someone else who would just say yes and not question me."

The happy radiation vanished. The warm inside me gone replaced with cold hard reality. He was right. He could just get someone more agreeable, someone who would not stood up to him and do as he bids. He could replace me in just a heartbeat. The realisation slapped me hard in the face, making me stagger back.

"Too bad you're stuck with me." I whispered back, trying to mask the hurt. "Too bad."

He nodded. "Yeah bu--"

Suddenly, he stopped as if now he realised what his words did to me because he turned his eyes to me. I tried to not let hurt slip in my voice when I spoke before but I guess somehow it pass through and he knew. He knew it hit a nerve in me.

But before he could say any more words, I already leapt out of the bed and walked out of my bedroom, aware of his voice behind me, his footsteps on my wooden floors following me.

"Claire? Claire! Stop. I didn't mean it seriously." I heard him explain himself.

I gave him no indication that I heard him. I stopped in my kitchen, opening my fridge and got out a water jug. Lifting myself up on my heels, I took out the glass from the cabinet and rest it on the counter but I made no move to fill it with cold water because it wouldn't sooth away the hurt I felt. I was a nobody to him. He could replace me anytime he wanted.

"Claire...oh come on, Claire. I was just saying it like tha---"