The Collector's Curse

【29】Life Finds a Way

The spread of clothes on my bed was ridiculous. But there I was on Monday evening, hours after Ulrik's ambush, trying to find what I'd wear the next day. I wanted to look good, but not too good. He couldn't know that I'd cared so much about my attire because it would give him the wrong impression. Vanity demanded that I reminded him of what he'd lost, though. Or was it cruelty?

Ugh, how was this man so good at wreaking havoc in my mind? Why couldn't I think rationally where he was concerned?

With a defeated sigh, I fell back in the armchair set in a corner and looked at the mess. I shouldn't have given in so easily. Now, I had a lunch date with the last man I should be near to.

Donald, who'd been of no help throughout this process, jumped on my lap to snuggle. "What would you do if you were me?" I asked him, passing a hand over his orange pelt. He let out a purry meow, looking up at me with his yellow eyes.

Gigi had no idea I'd run into Ulrik today, so I couldn't even count on her advice. It has felt wiser not to let her know, as she would have added another layer of complications to an already tricky situation. So now, the only help I could get was from one of the four cats roaming in the apartment. And none of their input would be valuable.

"Chocolate," I decided. "I need chocolate."

Holding the furball against my chest, I stood from the armchair and made my way to the living area. On the high counter that separated the living room from the kitchen, there was half of a dark chocolate bar—the other half was already in my stomach.

I broke a piece off and engulfed it in my mouth, appreciative of the bitterness that bloomed on my tongue. That always helped, especially when it was 90% chocolate. I was about to break another piece off when the doorbell rang. My eyebrows came together, perplexed. I wasn't expecting anyone, Gi was well into her evening service, and it was the door right here, not the one downstairs, to enter the building. We did have an elderly neighbor who came by a couple of times per month to ask for sugar and other small things she would run out of.

Mrs. Pembley was who I expected to see as I walked up to the door, dropping Donald on the floor. That was why I didn't even bother looking into the Judas hole to make sure of it. Alas, it wasn't her.

No, for the second time today, Ulrik was surprising me by being somewhere I didn't expect him to be. As a result, my jaw slacked open, my eyes wide with surprise. He was still wearing the same soon as earlier, but the tie was gone, and a few buttons were opened at his throat. In his hand, he held a paper carrier bag. Despite how tired he looked, exhausted, his face was still dashing, still the most alluring one I'd ever encountered.

I was too stunned to speak, completely blindsided by his presence right at my doorstep. When I tried to form words, my tongue failed me. "What a— Why is—"

"Sorry for barging in like this," he explained, guessing my question. "I brought back the things you left behind, but I couldn't quite hand them to you back at the museum, so I thought I would..." He didn't finish, lifting the bag between us instead. "There, Yuko took care of ironing and folding them."

Without a word, I reached for the bag's strip. Our fingers only met for a fraction of a second, but it was enough for heat to travel up my arm. I stood there with the bag hooked on my fingers, my arm along my side while my other hand held the door. We remained mute as I awkwardly avoided his gaze, standing there as if we were two strangers with nothing to say to one another.

He was the one breaking the silence with, "Are we still having lunch tomorrow?" Following a short hesitation, I nodded. His shoulders sank with reassurance.

I forced myself to meet his eyes to answer, "It's alright. Thank you for bringing me back my things."

More awkward tension ensued, and the tips of my fingers prickled with the need to touch him, to pass them in his slightly askew hair, to smooth the soft fabric at his chest... But I held back because those small gestures weren't mine to give anymore.