December 2023
Anthony

A heavy, ghostly fog clung to San Francisco like an old secret, whispered low and slow, muffling the city’s usual hum beneath its silvery shroud. Streetlights shimmered like distant stars, halos blooming in the mist as Anthony’s sleek black Bentley glided to a smooth stop at the airport’s departure terminal, quiet, effortless, like a sigh against the sleeping city.

The door swung open, and there stood Marcus, his ever, steady presence wrapped in warmth and quiet dignity. His nod was both professional and personal, the kind of gesture that said more than words ever could. In Anthony’s whirlwind of travel, meetings, and time zones, Marcus was a rare, grounding constant.

The late-night flight to Singapore was delayed, just slightly, held in limbo by the moody fog. Anthony hoped the skies would clear. He handed Marcus a plain white envelope, the gesture understated, yet sincere.

“You didn’t have to, Mr. Anderson,” Marcus said, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You already pay me more than fair to look after your car. Thank you, really. You’re too kind, sir. My family appreciates it.”

“You’re a good man, Marcus,” Anthony replied, his voice tinged with something wistful. “Enjoy the holidays with your family. You’re lucky to have that time.”

A glance at his watch. A deep sigh.

“Well, I’d better not tempt fate. Don’t want to miss this flight. Happy New Year, Marcus. I’ll see you in two weeks.”

“Till then, Mr. Anderson. Safe travels, and Happy New Year to you.”

Marcus’s voice carried after him, rich with sincerity, as Anthony disappeared into the luminous halls of the terminal.

Inside, the air buzzed with motion, suitcases rolling, voices rising, flight numbers crackling over the loudspeaker. But Anthony’s mind was already drifting… homeward. He tapped at his phone, and in an instant, his son’s face blinked onto the screen. Philip. Nine years old, eyes already etched with that familiar sorrow of a father departing… again.

The boy sat curled on the couch, bathed in the gentle light of their living room lamp. His small fingers traced invisible shapes into the cushions, the way kids do when their thoughts are too heavy to speak aloud. It crushed Anthony, that look, that quiet, resigned ache.

He swallowed hard. Tried a smile. It came out thin and tired.

Then she appeared, his wife, her face softly lit, steady as ever. Even pixelated, she was his anchor. Her gaze locked with his, and in that pause, that brief breathless space, everything he couldn’t say passed silently between them.

The final boarding call sliced through the moment. Cold. Final.

He tightened his grip on the phone for just a second before he exhaled, surrendering to what he couldn’t control.

One last glance. One final tether to home.

The screen went dark.

Anthony squared his shoulders, straightened his coat, and stepped onto the jet bridge, his heart a little heavier with every footfall. The distance settled in again, a quiet companion he knew all too well.

For decades now, Anthony had lived a life among clouds, jet engines, glass towers, strange currencies, champagne at 35,000 feet. He had spent thirty years in motion, chasing contracts across continents, polishing pitches in plush boardrooms, and waking in unfamiliar hotel beds more often than his own. The perks were there, sure, but so was the cost.

He was ready, or almost. Six more years. That’s what it would take to vest fully. Then he’d be sixty-five. His boy would be fifteen.

Time, that relentless thief, had already made off with too much.

He didn’t want to dwell, not tonight, not on another holiday departure. As the cabin lights dimmed, Anthony eased into his first-class suite: leather reclined, champagne chilled, a cocoon of quiet opulence wrapped around him.

Dinner. A film. A few emails. Sleep.

Routine. Numb and necessary.

And yet, fifteen hours and fifty-five minutes later, as the plane began its descent into the soft pink haze of a Singaporean sunrise, a familiar ache stirred in his chest. The skyline glittered like a promise, but he felt only the weight of absence.

Another city. Another deal. Another stretch of time stolen from the people who mattered most.

»

For the first time, the company had granted him a rare indulgence, a free morning, a fleeting breath of freedom before the grand spectacle of the New Year’s Eve corporate gala. Tonight, the glittering elite of Sentosa Online Ltd. would gather under dazzling chandeliers, clinking glasses of vintage champagne, their conversations a careful dance of power and pretense. But for now, Anthony had the morning to himself.

Despite the illusion of autonomy that came with his monthly trips to Singapore, the company’s grip remained unyielding. Anthony and his wife Carol were expected to embody a life of privilege, pristine, curated, and dripping in luxury. A country club existence wasn’t merely a perk; it was an unspoken mandate. At Sentosa Online Ltd., opulence was the uniform, and deviation was not an option.

Anthony had married late, at thirty-seven, to the radiant Carol, ten years his junior, with a charm that could light up a room. Their first eight years together had been blissfully simple, nestled in the quiet, sun-drenched town of Santa Venetia, California, just beyond the hum of San Francisco. Life had been unhurried, unpretentious, almost magical in its simplicity.

Then came the fateful business trip to Singapore. A chance encounter with his childhood friend, Asher, set off a domino effect Anthony never saw coming. A friend of theirs was launching a gaming startup, and thanks to Asher’s recommendation, Anthony was offered a seat at the table, a key role as the company’s marketing strategist. Within months, he signed a seven-figure contract, and life as they knew it shifted overnight.

Pacific Heights became their new home, a sleek company car sat in the driveway, and exclusive memberships to San Francisco’s most prestigious clubs filled their social calendar. Almost instantly, their once, intimate life was devoured by gala invitations, high-stakes networking events, and endless rounds of small talk over gourmet dinners. The company’s soaring success was, in no small part, due to Anthony’s relentless efforts. But Carol played a role too. Though never officially on payroll, her impeccable social graces turned investors into allies, clients into friends. She was the unseen force behind their meteoric rise.

For five years, it was exhilarating, glamorous, even. The whirlwind of country club living, jet-setting between California and Singapore, and basking in the prestige of Anthony’s high-powered career. Carol had been fascinated by the glimpses of Anthony’s past, the echoes of his childhood as the son of a British naval officer. But Singapore had changed. Gone were the modest landscapes of his youth, replaced by towering skyscrapers and a level of wealth no one could have ever imagined.

On the surface, they had it all. People envied them, admired them. But beneath the polished veneer, cracks were forming. The relentless social engagements drained Carol. She grew weary of the forced smiles, the hollow conversations about everything and nothing. Worst of all, she and Anthony rarely had a moment alone. Their life, once deeply intertwined, had become a carefully orchestrated performance.

And then there were the expenses. The staggering paycheck came with equally staggering bills. The company’s vision of their life left little room for financial independence, let alone savings. More than once, Anthony had floated the idea of moving somewhere more manageable, perhaps just outside Pacific Heights. Each time, the answer was the same: a polite but firm no. The lifestyle was non-negotiable.

Then, thirteen years into their marriage, fate delivered an unexpected gift. Carol became pregnant.

Little Philip arrived like a beam of light, illuminating their grand but empty home with his laughter, his tiny fingers wrapping around their hearts. For the first time in years, Carol found a way to step back from the social whirlwind. She poured herself into motherhood, cherishing every milestone, every sleepy cuddle. But Anthony? His world remained unchanged, still governed by meetings, flights, and obligations that left him a mere visitor in their son’s life.

They spoke often of leaving, of reclaiming their quiet life. But talk was all it ever was. Every plan collapsed under the weight of “just a little longer” and “maybe next year.” Desperate to hold on to some semblance of normalcy, Carol hired a nanny. The decision felt like a betrayal; she had never wanted someone else raising her child. But what choice did she have?

Over time, she learned to delegate. The younger, eager housewives were all too willing to take on some of her social responsibilities. No one seemed to notice her gradual retreat. More and more, she stole back precious hours to spend with Philip. Yet even with her newfound freedom, something vital was missing. She longed for Anthony to be present, to see their son’s firsts, to share in the quiet joys of their little family.

She knew walking away wouldn’t be easy. This was Anthony’s dream job, the pinnacle of his career. But was it worth the cost?

Each night, as she lay in bed staring at the ceiling, she whispered the same silent vow:

“I’ll find a way out. One day. I have to.”

»

During the drive towards his hotel, Anthony seized the moment to call home, his heart warming at the thought of hearing Carol’s voice. She told him about her day, mentioning how Brenda had taken full charge of the evening diners and cocktail parties with remarkable confidence. With a small team of friends assisting her, the transition had been seamless, allowing Carol more time with Philip and a much, needed sense of calm.

Anthony shared that his flight had been smooth and uneventful, giving him ample time to finalize preparations for the New Year’s Eve presentation. He was excited about the generous bonuses and gifts for his team, acknowledging the efforts of Nathan and Asher in making employees feel valued.

As their conversation drifted to his plans for the day, he admitted that he was finally fulfilling a long-held dream of spending the day at Universal Studios. The thought of immersing himself in the whimsical world of Far Far Away, surrounded by castles, talking donkeys, and green ogres, filled him with a childlike thrill. 

Past conversations about bringing their son to Singapore together lingered in his mind, a bittersweet reminder of dreams yet to be shared. Carol’s laughter reassured him, and she spoke of their future visit as a family. 

Philip’s bright, and excited voice came through the phone, eager to hear about his father’s adventure. He playfully requested one of the magic potions his father had always joked about, imagining the mischief he could cause if he turned invisible. Anthony promised to find something special for him, chuckling at his son’s boundless imagination.

Philip was thriving, Carol noted, having found close friendships within his soccer team, some of whom lived nearby. It warmed Anthony’s heart to know his son was happy and settling in well.

As their conversation ended, Carol reminded him to take plenty of pictures, selfies included. With lingering words of love exchanged, Anthony ended the call, his heart full yet aching with longing. 

As the chauffeur drove through the lush, green canopy toward his hotel, Anthony could see the Equarius Ocean Suites in the distance. His pulse quickened. Even after ten years, stepping into this place still filled him with childlike wonder. It wasn’t just a suite, it was a sanctuary, a place that felt inexplicably like home. The company had ensured the same two-story suite for his monthly visits, a perk he never grew tired of.

As he stepped into the bottom floor of the suite, at the far end of the room, there it was, the breathtaking, floor-to-ceiling glass panel that opened into the mesmerizing underwater world of marine life. Schools of fish shimmered like liquid jewels, while stingrays glided past with an almost knowing grace, as if greeting an old friend. The view extended into the ensuite bathroom, making the entire lower lever a window into the underwater aquarium.

Taking a deep breath, he set his bag down and let the tranquil sight settle his soul. But time was short. After a quick shower, he was off, stepping into the whimsical world of Far Far Away. The hours flew by in a blur of wonder, laughter, and the quiet ache of missing Carol and Philip. One day, we’ll come here together.

Returning to his suite, he rested for an hour before preparing for the grand evening at the Ocean Restaurant. The annual New Year’s Awards event wasn’t exactly his scene, but he understood its importance. Nathan and Asher took immense pride in recognizing their employees, and the joy on their faces made it all worthwhile.

As he stepped into the underwater dining hall, the scene before him was nothing short of magical. Manta rays soared like celestial beings, reef sharks prowled the depths, and vibrant fish darted through the water like scattered stars. The eight-course meal was an indulgence of flavors, but for Anthony, the highlight was the laughter, the camaraderie, and the unshakable feeling that something was missing.

His mind wandered to Carol, to Philip, to the life waiting for him beyond these glittering waters.

One day soon, he promised himself. One day, they’d share all this together.

Copyright © 2025

Part 2 /14

Target publishing date mid August, 2025