Still Falling

19 | drift

Finn

*

A knock on my door roused me from sleep. My eyes were barely open when I heard it come open.

"Shit, I'm so so sorry," Parker's startled voice said before the door shut abruptly. Slowly, I rose my head and found him nowhere in sight. I felt weighed down and I looked to find my arm around Amanda with her buried in the crook of it, sleeping soundly. My heart hammered violently in my chest. My former peaceful, half-asleep state was replaced by mild panic. No wonder Parker had reacted that way. How had Amanda and I gone from being two feet apart to practically glued together?

Shirtless, I could feel her breaths on my chest while her hair tickled my nose. My hand was encircling her waist. When I tried to lift my leg, I realized she had hers over mine. It was like being tangled up in a web. How we ended this way seemed incomprehensible to me.

The last thing I wanted to do was wake her, so with plenty of care, I untangled myself from her and got off the bed. I spared one glance at her from over my shoulder before I got out of the room and shut the door.

Parker was stood in front of me now, hands behind him with a flushed expression on his face.

"I'm sorry I intruded. Your phone has been unreachable all morning and I needed to remind you of your meeting at eight."

"Wait, what time is it?"

He looked at his watch. "Ten past seven."

I rubbed a hand across my face. We had managed to sleep all evening through morning.

"I'll be ready in fifteen. My phone's in the living room, please turn it on," I said and returned to my bedroom to grab everything I needed before leaving for the guest bedroom. While in the shower, I marvelled at how well I'd slept. Nights like this were awfully rare, and with the news of Nik from yesterday, last night was supposed to be miserable. Was her presence that profound that it kept the darkness away?

I rushed through my routine. I was mildly nervous about the meeting I had in the next thirty minutes. I'd not sat in the audience of the board of directors in over two years. Today we'd be evaluating the state and affairs of the company, as well as scheduling my take over of the position of CEO.

When I joined him in the living room, Parker handed me my phone. I had twenty-three unopened voicemails and countless text messages left for me during the course of the night. I heaved a sigh and fished for my earphones from a table and popped them on.

On the ride down the elevator and to the office, I went through them and returned a few calls. Condolences, condolences, condolences. A bulk of them came from partners and family friends, short and straight to the point. I was surprised to find none from Elliot. I turned to Parker while we rode at the back of the car.

"Did Elliot contact you?"

"He did, early this morning. I already let him know we're on our way."

I gave a small nod. One text from my stepmother simply read, call me. It was expected, very on brand of her.

When I got to Elliot's office, he was sat behind the desk, unoccupied. He lifted his eyes to meet mine and pushed himself out of his seat. With arms outstretched, he walked to me and I was engulfed in a hug that smelled of the signature Dior perfume he'd stuck with since he began working with me.

Elliot's beginning was the humble type romanticized in stories. He was smart, earning himself a full-ride scholarship. We hated ourselves as roommates, but after the situation with his breakup, things took a one-eighty.