Valentine’s Day Proposal Chapter 8
WILLOW
My cell phone chirped, waking me. I wanted to hit snooze and sleep more, but for some reason something inside my head told me if I did, I'd be late. So, I shut off the alarm and forced myself to a seated position, suddenly acutely aware I was not in my bed. For a moment I panicked, looking around at the dim light stealing through the black-out curtains. A strange scent wafted past my nose, and I recognized the familiar fragrance of Charles's shampoo on the bed clothes.
I rubbed my eyes, letting them adjust to being pried open, and noticed the pillow and blanket he'd tried to push off on me last night. They still lay on the floor by the door where I dropped them when I locked myself in here. He said I was childish, and perhaps I was, but he was rude for expecting me to sleep on his sofa.
I yawned and stretched. The bed wasn't like sleeping in my bed, but it was better than a couch, and my things were being sold off this week anyway. I couldn't afford to keep paying rent on that place if I wasn't living there. I'd find a new place when this chaos was over, maybe a better place.
I showered, noting how his fancy rainwater shower head had no water pressure, and dried off. The heated floors wer nice, better than at home, but I still liked home better. Home was where I put my Keurig in the bedroom so I could have one-minute coffee before even showering. Here I had to be cleaned, fully dressed, and full makeup before I could even pass through the living room to the kitchen to get coffee. That was if Charles hadn't become a weirdo drinking tea instead.
I dressed, pantsuit straight out of my suitcase which I hadn't unpacked yet. I couldn't live out of suitcases, and I'd have boxes of clothes and belongings coming to the apartment today or tomorrow that would need a place to be pu away. As much as I loathed the thought, I'd have to ask Charles how we would manage that. Some of my larger thing: were being put in storage. It was cheaper than paying rent to keep the apartment up. And Mom and Dad had taken Mr. Boots. Charles was allergic.
I stared at myself in the mirror as I dried my hair with the blow dryer. I had to jump through so many hoops for this damn bastard, and to think he had the nerve to make me sleep on the couch. I showed him, didn't I? I wondered if his night was restless, or if he'd wake with a kink in his neck. He deserved a kink in his neck.
When I was totally ready to hop on the train, I finally unlocked the bedroom door—briefcase in hand—and walked ou into the living room. It was dim, but not as dark as the bedroom had been. And it was cold, so cold I shivered. He hac to have had a separate thermostat for the bedroom itself.
Charles lay on the couch sleeping, curled up in a tight ball beneath a coat. His bare feet dangled off the edge of the couch precariously, and he snored loudly. I felt a strange ambivalence in my gut, wavering between wanting to laugh at how pathetic he looked, and feeling guilty that I was the reason he was so obviously miserable. I watched him sleep for a moment, remembering the good days, but feeling so hurt by him I didn’t see any path back to that time a all.
Then I left for work without coffee because I didn't want to wake him. That would mean a conversation and I wanted my morning to start right—not with an argument.
After the long train ride down the green line and across the red to Foggy Bottom, I had a painful six-block walk. The entire trip took nearly an hour with all the line changes, but I made it, and probably faster than if I had tried driving. I passed a quirky little coffee shop and picked up a coffee for myself, and while I was there decided that having a coffee for Mel might help smooth the conversation when I told her I was married. So, I bought her a soy triple latte and had the barista make the foam into a heart shape. Mel would appreciate the gesture.
I strolled into the office a few minutes late thanks to my coffee pitstop, but Mel was all smiles. It appeared a few other staff members were running late too; a few desks empty still. I glanced around and noticed everyone hard at work already, so I headed straight to Mel's office. Her short blonde hair was feathered to the side in a fresh look; lon: manicured fingernails clicked away at her keyboard. She looked up as I walked in.
“Look what the cat dragged in.” She grinned at me and sat back. “For me?”
I set the coffee on her desk. “Peace offering.”
“For being late?” She picked up the coffee and pulled the lid off, her smile brightening at the site of the heart shape crafted through the foam. She took a deep inhale and sighed. “Just the way I like it
“No, not for being late.” I sipped my own coffee and shifted from one foot to the other. “For this." I wiggled my ring finger on my left hand, showing off the gold band now gracing it. Nothing fancy for me, just a simple golden band, but it meant something. I watched Mel wilt, her bright smile falling into a look of hurt, then concern.
The concern I understood. Mel was as close as sister, and honestly, she had been a major contributor in my life for years. She probably felt personally stilted by my decision to marry without consulting her first. Especially given our conversation after Peter's visit to the office. I perched on the edge of a chair, setting my briefcase down as I shrugge« out of my trench coat.
“I know what you're thinking, but Melody, they're giving us two-hundred grand. We could easily expand to Norfolk with that amount of money, Williamsburg, Alexandria, you name it. We just needed a bit of capital and in one year's time, with what we can save from the firm, invested properly, and add to that this payment...”
“Oh, Willow.” She shrank back into her chair, setting her coffee down like it had offended her. Gone was her beaming happiness. She had retreated inward so far I hardly recognized her. She sat shaking her head.
“What? It's literally just a business arrangement. I put my personal life on hold for a while. No big deal.” And during this time, I could also test Mel too, to see if she would be a good partner, if she was trustworthy.
“I don't think you understand, but that's okay.” Mel rubbed her forehead and offered me a pathetic smile. I could tell it was forced, but I didn’t know why. I sipped my coffee again, studying her crestfallen features. Mel was always supportive, encouraging, and upbeat. Seeing her down made me feel down too. Visit Job ni b .co m to read the complete chapters for free “Don’t be upset with me. This is exactly what we wanted, to build the firm and expand. So instead of dishing out a percentage of our profit for the next I0 years, we will have the money upfront. I just have to endure a fake marriage for a year tops.”From NôvelDrama.Org.
“Six months after the election is what the guy said.”
“Peter? Yes, well Charles and I will make that decision when we feel it's necessary.” I squared my shoulders, glad to see her perk up a bit.
Mel sat straight, pushing her coffee to the side a bit and readjusting her mouse. “I can’t say I'm not disappointed.” She frowned. “But maybe the money would be a good thing for us—I mean the firm.” She winced and I suddenly understood why she was so disappointed.
The first time I met Mel, her job interview, she had come on to me. I knew who she was; I'd always known. I just didn’ realize she liked me. Again, for the second time this morning I felt like a fool. The first time had been easy to navigate. I just left the apartment and didn’t wake Charles. No need to face that shame.
But this shame was one I hadn't seen coming. Mel thought she had a chance with me, and her discouraging me from marrying Charles was her way of trying to tell me. She was trying to save me from heartbreak and for herself all at once. I hadn't even realized.
“Look, I should get to work.” I stood, not wanting to make matters worse. I picked up my briefcase and slung my trench coat over my arm. “It’s going to work out, and we are going to grow the firm. You and me.”
Mel perked up, a smile returning to her face, though it was still reserved. She nodded. “Best friends...”
“Never anything less.”
I walked out of her office and toward my own feeling like a sack of shit. I'd hurt my best friend's feelings inadvertently, created a very awkward living situation which would likely devolve into another argument when I got home, and made everything that much more stressful. This year couldn't go by fast enough.