Finding myself (18+)

Chapter 45

I sit on the chair, leaning against it so it reclines and I can stare at something other than my computer. It's the beginning of June, the last day of my internship, and I discovered the position I'm interested in for the wind farm project had been taken.

They published it on a recruitment website. And I know they weren't finding anyone suitable for the job. I followed the rumors closely and constantly checked the website, vigilant for any news. And today, the status has changed to closed. Some lucky bastard has taken the position, and it feels like it has been taken from me.

I sigh lowly, rubbing my eyes.

I'm mourning, even though the job wasn't mine, and I could never have it because of my visa situation. My head pounds, reminding me that until now, I was still hopeful I would get the opportunity somehow.

"They'll have lunch in a restaurant close to the Town Hall." Andrew's secretary informs me over the phone. He didn't answer his phone, so I contacted her. It was almost midday, and I decided to call him instead of surprising him in the office like last time.

"They?" My voice is taut, and my shoulder sag.

"Alicia is there with him in a meeting, and they'll have lunch after." She speaks like it's a habit.

"Do you want the address to join them?"

"No, it's fine," something about him being with her turns me off.

I take a deep breath, ignoring the sharp pang in the pit of my stomach. It's wiser to have a last lunch with my colleagues and postpone my discussion with Andrew for later.

***

Once in the apartment, I march to the bedroom. My head spins with ways of approaching the subject mixed with the alcohol I consumed during the after-work farewell. The confrontation gets me nervous and uneasy. The alcohol gets me giddy and distracted.

I still don't have a visa, and my current one expires in a month. And the fact Andrew is constantly with Alicia instead of worrying about it finally reaches the limit.

I reached my limit.

Andrew is in the shower, and I'm listening to the patter of falling water while pacing around the room, gathering my words together. The sound should be relaxing; falling water is usually used in spas and relaxing environments, but instead, it increases my stress; waiting for the final moment, it will stop, and he will finally leave the bathroom.

His phone lights up on the nightstand at the exact moment I'm walking in front of it, like a bright billboard calling me to see it. With a mere glance, I catch an incoming message.

My curiosity takes the best of me. Something in my gut tells me I must see this, leading to my stupid decision to grab and snoop his phone.

It's foolish and wrong. So wrong to enter his personal space, disrespectful even. I'm crossing a line, and I'll blame it on the alcohol later, but it might be the way to have the answer I anxiously need.

And it is.

I blink, cleaning my eyes with my hands to be sure I'm reading it correctly. A confirmation message from an expensive hotel is displayed. I can only read it partially, unable to open his phone and check it thoroughly. The message on the opening screen is enough to understand they are confirming a reservation for two tonight.

The words I prepared so carefully fled. My stomach is churning, and suddenly I'm sick and nauseous.

He never mentioned anything about us going somewhere tonight.