Saudade | Loubbie

Chapter Twenty Nine

When Debbie stepped out of her car, the sky was dark and stormy. Her hair, her bag and her well-pressed business attire were already dripping wet as she stood just outside one of New York's biggest buildings, which she and her husband owned. The guards and workers became extremely alarmed as soon as her heels touched the building's ground. Some panicked as they pushed themselves to approach Debbie and inquired what she required; some were rushing to finish Debbie's tasks, while others prayed that Debbie would simply walk inside her office and sit calmly.

As soon as Debbie walked in, the entire skyscraper seemed to move in the direction she desired. Inside, people smiled and greeted her, even though they wished to hide. Debbie was not your average employer, yelling and cursing like a sailor. She was the one who didn't say anything and just looked at the staff, as if she didn't care if they were doing their jobs right. Keanu, her husband, who was always the one in charge spoke so highly of her; this, tinted the minds of the many to assume that Debbie wanted perfection and whether they liked it or not, Debbie could fire them whenever she wanted to. The brunette didn't care though; she didn't give a fuck whether everyone was afraid of her or not. All she knew was that the new her commanded attention and that she was more intimidating than the old version of herself and she loved it.

The brunette opened her office, following behind her were three women hoping not to get fired the moment they speak. Too aware of the women's situation, Debbie dropped her bag on her office's couch, a cold look as she looked at the three before she spoke.

"I need clothes."

The three women exchanged looks, obviously terrified of her, "Ma'am, the investor is --"

Debbie cut her off coldly, eyes raging yet too dead at the same time, "I said I need clothes."

"But ma'am --"

"Do you want to keep your job?" She didn't actually mean it, but it was fun to watch other people scrambling for hope.

"Ma'am,.." The other woman held the one Debbie just spoke to, "...the clothes you have here are not for business meetings."

"Then go send someone to buy me clothes appropriate for business meetings."

"But ma'am, the investor arrived and is waiting for about almost an hour now."

Debbie rolled her eyes, "I cannot meet the investor looking like a cheap mother who just got fired from her job."

"Ma'am, we can let someone buy the attire, but we cannot let the investor wait." The other woman spoke, "But you have a dress here in your office."

"What dress?" Debbie asked, dropping herself on the sofa, not minding that she was soaking the sofa with her still wet clothes.

"This one."

Who in their right mind would wear a skimpy cocktail dress in a business meeting? Debbie sighed as she ran her hand across her face. Keanu told her that this was going to be a big deal and that this one was very important. She was already late; the investor was waiting for her for gods knew how long. With a groan, Debbie got up, took the dress from the women before she walked towards the bathroom of her office. Whatever. She's going to wear the dress.

After changing into the cocktail dress, Debbie dried her hair with the towel. She didn't have enough time for a blowdry and it frustrated her so much. With curses and mutters, she applied the reddest lipstick before she got her phone and studied herself on the mirror. She was looking like she was going to the bar. For God's sake, she was attending a business meeting! Despite the urge to just ditch the meeting, Debbie sucked her breath. She was not going to let her husband down. So she walked out, bracing herself for whatever the investor had in store for her.

-----

"The investor is still here?" Debbie asked the staff waiting outside, her hand hanging on the knob.

"Yes ma'am."

A nod and Debbie opened the door. If it was cupid's dirty play, the brunette would really want an out. She stood by the door, frozen like a statue in Italy. Her eyes begged to water and her heart started to dance in a rhythm she thought she had lost five years ago. The moment Debbie walked in, the investor turned around - the most beautiful ocean eyes, shoned brightly like an ocean drenched under the pacific sun, and there, Debbie was breathless and was melting into a thousand reflective sighs.

The brunette was obviously shocked. Her lips slowly hung as the person stood from the swivel chair, shocked like she was too. The beating of Debbie's heart was a drum in a theatre play; she tried to shut if off, but she couldn't. Gradually, the memories of them opening a bottle of wine was coming to life, the handholding under the thick blankets, the whispers, the dance and the wedding. How could someone you thought was already a forgotten piece of you, could still shake your knees as if you were a teenager having an eye-contact with your crush who played in a band? If it was a dream, she wanted to wake up, but no, it was real because Debbie could see how alive Lou Miller was standing in front of her.

What should one say to an ex-wife after five years of shutting them off and trying to forget their existence? The brunette's eyes started to water - the fragments of yesterday was pulling her in and she felt herself drowning -  with her life flashing in a slow-spinning liquid mirrorball. It was a torture Debbie didn't expect and for the last time, she wanted a permanent surrender.

"Debbie..."

That voice. God, she couldn't deny that aside from Danny's giggles, it was that voice Debbie missed so much. But should she call her? Debbie made herself forget the past - to bury what she had gone through and that included her ex-wife, who, she partly blamed for the death of their daughter. The brunette stood still by the door, should she call her a stranger? But how could she call Lou a stranger when Debbie was an acquaintance to the thunderclaps behind the bluest eyes of the australian? How could she call her a stranger when Debbie's tongue used to roam inside her mouth pulling her heedless screams? How could she, when Lou's arms once felt like home and she once held Debbie's flesh and bones?

Maybe, Debbie was so lost that she didn't notice herself crying already. If Lou didn't ran and held her hand, she would not know that her eyes were tearing already.

"Deb..." Lou spoke, holding Debbie's hand, still in the verge of shock.

"I must have opened the wrong door." Debbie replied, removing Lou's hand from her hand.

"Please..." Lou blocked the door, eyes too tired as if she was seeking for her in years, "Let's talk." It sounded pitiful that it pinched the skin of Debbie's heart.

"We have nothing to talk about, Lou."

"We have." Lou looked at her seriously, "Are you really going to do this?"

Debbie snapped, "Do what?" 

There was a pause. A silence and a sigh. And Lou didn't help herself as her tears started falling. She thought she was past them - that it was gonna be alright once she sees Debbie again, but now, as she was standing in front of her, all she wanted to do was to beg and ask her to love her again.

"To forget me? Forget that I happened?" Lou wiped her tears as she ran her fingers though her hair, "I still don't under ---"

"It's been five years, Lou."

"Yeah. Five years and I still don't understand. You just left and I thought you would come back, but you didn't. At least, if you don't want me anymore, give me the clo --"

"I'm married, Lou." Debbie cut her off.

Lou didn't know what to say and how to react. All she knew was that she looked at Debbie, eyes wide as her tears continued to fall.

"You're married?" Lou whispered.

"I am." Debbie uttered, too weak that it could almost pass as a whisper, "I am Mrs. Reeves, Lou."

Debbie didn't know how did it happen, but there she was - alone in the meeting room. The door banged and Lou was running outside.

***