The Right One

Nine

Raymond found his mind constantly drifting throughout the day and he could barely concentrate on work, which in turn left him frustrated.

He was very much aware why he was distracted, but then he couldn't do anything about it just yet.

Heaving out a resigned sigh, he glanced up at the wall clock and checked the time; 5:17pm. He might as well get off work since he had hardly been productive at all. Gathering his things, he made his way out of his office and almost ran into Anne who looked like she was just on her way in.

"Are you leaving already, sir?" She asked, looking somewhat surprised. He didn't blame her. The earliest he left work most days was 6:00 pm.

"Yes, Anne. I'm leaving," Raymond replied. "And you're free to leave as well."

"Okay, sir. Mr Efe called, he said your phone has been off and he has not been able to reach you?" It came out more of a question than a statement because Raymond's phone was never off.

"What? No, my phone's not . . . " his words trailed off as he brought said phone out of his trouser's pocket and realized it was indeed off. "Oh. When did this even . . . Never mind. Thank you, Anne. See you tomorrow."

"Alright sir," she replied, going back to her desk presumably to gather her things.

Raymond walked out of the hotel and to his car, waving absentmindedly to a few people on the way. Inside his car, he brought out his power bank and plugged in his phone, turning it on almost immediately. The battery was at one percent and Raymond silently chided his scrambled and distracted mind for forgetting to remind him to charge his phone.

His phone beeped and a text message popped up. It was from Efe.

Your phone is never off, Princess. Hope you're not dead in a ditch somewhere? Anyway, about your request. It's done. Needless to say but I'm saying just in case, you owe me biiiiiig.

Raymond scoffed, ignoring everything else and only focusing on the line that confirmed his request had been granted. Feeling like a burden had been lifted off him, he started his car and headed for Hope's home.

A huge sigh escaped him when he found himself fidgeting in front of her door. He wasn't nervous, not really. Conflicted was more like it, he felt like he was doing the right thing but at the same time making a very big mistake.

Raymond raised his hand to knock on the door, shaking off his turbulent thoughts. It didn't matter now, he would allow time determine that for him.

The door swung open almost immediately, revealing an unkempt Hope who was wearing an extremely big shirt and shorts he suspected she was holding up with a belt and her hair looked like a trailer had passed through it. It was as if she was trying to pass the message to anyone who as much as glanced at her that she was miserable, and Raymond had to admit she had done a very good job at that. Her whole expression shuttered on seeing him which made him feel a lot more horrible.

"Val is not home," she declared coolly, proceeding to shut the door in his face.

Raymond stuck his leg out in time and the door bounced back on contact with his foot. His teeth gritted from the pain and he could have sworn he heard a bone crack. Or maybe it was just his imagination.

"Ow," he muttered, his hands going to massage his ankle which hopefully hadn't suffered much damage. His eyes raised back to her and narrowed at the glee clear on her face from his pain.

Raymond stepped -- more like limped -- all the way in before it could cross her mind to shut the door again. He didn't stop until he was sitting on the couch, his hurting foot gingerly stretched out in front of him.