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"I love you, Felicity. Bye, sis. Talk soon, Felicity." They all chorus at the same time.
I blow them kisses as the call disconnects. With a lingering smile, I return to the file I'd been looking over. But I’m unable to focus, not on the file in front of me or anything else.
I look around my little office, which I've customized to my liking after being moved here last year. It had been a dream come true for me, having my own office, enjoying the privacy of not having to share one enclosed space with two or three other estate agents.
Yes, I had not quite minded when I'd done that. My colleagues were easygoing, I enjoyed every second I spent with Caroline, Jennifer, and Cora. We had always pooled resources, organized open houses, snagged clients from social media and shared profits. But I’m glad that I get to do that all on my own now without having to share the results of my effort with anyone. It has also helped with my income and allowed me to send enough money home.
When I realize that it's no longer possible to concentrate on work, I get up, figuring that it is time to leave, I begin to pack up.
Guilt sears through me when I spot my unopened lunch bag. There'd been no time to eat the leftovers I had packed this morning. I'd needed to show a few clients various units in the heart of town, then went for an open house that I'd spearheaded and had returned to the office around 5 p.m. to attend to a little office work and file a report.
I’m going to make a point of microwaving the leftovers I packed and having them for dinner. There's no way I’m going to stumble into bed without dinner anymore.
I sling my fashionable handbag over my shoulder and step into the stilettos I'd toed off when I'd returned to the office this evening. Grabbing the lunch bag, I begin to make my way to the door, noting that most of the offices I've been walking by have been closed and the lights turned off.
Just how late had I stayed again today?
I check the time on the watch on my wrist, wincing when I realize that it's nearly 8 p.m.
"Felicity.” A very familiar voice call.
Startled, I look up and into the eyes of Allard, immediately my body tenses at the sight of him.
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
Allard moves forward, one hand buried in the pocket of his worn-out trousers, eyes pleading. Seven months ago, the sight of him would have caused excitement and not this dread that I currently experience in the pit of my stomach.
"Felicity," he whispers, hands outstretched.
I impulsively lean away from his outstretched hand.
"You shouldn't be here."
I feel my heart pounding with fear when I realize how frightfully quiet it is. The doors on either side of the brightly lit hallway have been securely locked. As far as I can tell, it could just as well be me and Allard here right now.
"I had to see you," he replies.
"Allard, we broke up," I begin to say, looking away from Allard's clear blue eyes. "You have to move on."
Allard's eyes suddenly become hard, his right hand, which he'd shoved deep into his trouser pocket, is ripped out and fisted.
"I have told you never to say that. We’ve not broken up. You said you needed space to think. I have given you seven months to do that. It's time for us to get back together and be as happy as we once were."
I shake my head at Allard's words.
"That cannot happen," I say to him, hoping that my words will get through to him this time.
Yes, we had dates. Yes, there had been a time when I was more than convinced that he was the one. But something had happened, all of that had changed.
Allard takes another step toward me, I take one back, my heart beginning to pound in fear.
"You don't have to be afraid," he says, continuing to move toward me. "I’m not here to hurt you."
"Allard…"
"I’m here to tell you that I still love you. We belong together, Felicity," he murmurs, close enough for me to smell his well-worn cologne mixed with sweat.
Allard lifts his hand and slides it through my hair. I shut my eyes tightly and prepared with all my heart to push him away and make a dash for the door.
