I Do, Don't I?

Chapter Eight

I woke up early in the morning to find something to wear.  Thankfully, I was able to snag a red shift dress and was able to settle with a pair of nude pumps and a black leather bag.

     "Are you ready?" Jude's voice rang from outside the closet.  I got out and waited for him to finish adjusting his tie in the bathroom mirror.

     "Yes," I breathed happily with a mixture of anxiety.

     He smiled contentedly at me before turning from his reflection and walking slowly--God, he's like a runway model--towards me.  After closing the bathroom door behind him, he wrapped his arms around my waist, his smile never leaving his face.

     "You'll do great," he assured me as his arms snaked tenderly around my hips.

     I smiled at his words but as he was leaning in to kiss me, something inside me clicked and dodged his lips.

     "Uhm," I said, slowly pushing his forearms down to his sides without any definite explanation of what made me do that.  "We don't want to be late."

     He seemed to have stopped functioning.  Then, after a moment, he answered, "Right.  We probably should get going."

     It was a long silent drive to the Specter Twin Tower.  He mentioned it after I asked where we were going and that's when I've decided that this ride is going to be awkward.  The engine stopped in front of the two buildings several minutes later.

     "So...which building do I...enter?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the dashboard.

     "The right one," he said, trying his best to mask his disappointment from earlier this morning.

     "Okay," I said breathlessly as I looked out on my car window to the building on the right then, returned my head to the front.  "So..." I said hesitantly, waiting for him to say something sweet and apologetic for how he had acted so rash awhile ago realizing that I still don't remember being married to him--

     "You should go," he said and when I peered at him, his face looked grave.

     “Shall I see you after work?” I asked without meeting his eyes.

     “Yes,” he said, his eyes trained on the road ahead.

     “Okay.”  Without anymore word, I pushed the car door open and clutched the leather straps of my bag.  I walked across the foyer and rode a long elevator ride with the brunette mail boy who looks to be in his twenties.  He wore a blue overall with a tiny company logo on his left chest and a pair of buffed black leather shoes.  He gripped on the silver bar of his cart filled with today’s mails.

     “Good morning, ma’am,” he greeted which sounded quite nervous.

     I turned and gave him a bright smile.  “Good morning,” I glanced at the gold plastic tag underneath the company logo.  “Mikey.”  I read with much enthusiasm.  I watched his face shift to a horrified look.  I frowned slightly then, faced front.

     Okay.  Maybe he got freaked out that I am acting quite energized even just a few days after my discharge from the hospital.  I shrugged the thought away before stepping out of the top floor.  I strode the blue carpet confidently, head held high with a smile on my lips.  I didn’t have to ask no receptionist about my office’s location.  That would be just unprofessional.  Ignoring the wide-eyed employees, I continued to walk the halls of the twentieth floor.

     After ending up at the same metal doors of the elevator, that’s when I decided that I’m lost.

     “Hi, uhm, excuse me?” I said to a pixie-haired employee who seemed to be the only one mustering a pleasant smile.