divorce [h.s.]

forty nine

Andria

I spend a couple more days wallowing in my self-pity, quite enjoying my routine of waking up, getting some food, and then getting straight back into bed again. I continue to ignore everyone who's trying to contact me, although I can't help but notice that after a few days, the constant knocking at my door stops, and Harry doesn't blow up my phone anymore. I don't know whether to feel sad or relieved.

Towards the end of the week, I decide to return to work. Not because I want to or because I feel ready to face it in the slightest, but because Riley comes over in the morning and threatens to throw away all of my designer shoes if I don't get up. He even goes as far to grab a black bin liner from the kitchen and dangling my favourite pair of louboutins over it.

After he forced me into the bathroom to have a shower and wash my hair for the first time in days, I walked back into my room to find an outfit already laid out on the bed, consisting of rather tight clothing. I rolled my eyes to myself before reluctantly pulling it on, applying some makeup, fixing my hair, and then grabbing my bag.

As soon as I stepped out of my building and onto the street outside, surrounded by the noise and bustle of everyone heading to work, I almost turned back around to go and bury myself in my bed again. However, Riley didn't let me, wrapping an arm around my waist and practically throwing me into a taxi he had managed to hail.

So that's why I'm now sat back at my desk, in my comfortable chair, a hot cup of coffee clasped in my hands while I stare out of the window at the city below. I've had a fair amount of work to do this morning, although I'm thankful for that because it managed to distract both me and my thoughts for a while. But now that I'm done and taking a break, the floodgates of my mind have opened and all my worries are flowing back in again.

As I'm taking another sip of my coffee, my stomach suddenly rumbles, my body clearly indicating to me that it needs something of substance, rather than just coffee. I spin around in my chair and reach out for my laptop, clicking it so the screen lights up and I can check the time. 12:38pm. Lunchtime.

Over the past few weeks, Harry and I had established a routine for lunch. We spent a few days visiting all the local cafes until we found our favourite one, and from that point onwards that's where we'd always meet for lunch. It was kind of like going on a date everyday, and I remember how I would get so excited while sat in my office, practically watching the clock tick by so I could go see him after only half a days work.

As I turn back to glance out of the window again, I can't help but wonder if Harry's there now, sat in the cafe at our favourite table in the back. For a moment, I get the sudden urge to go and see if he's there, wondering if that's where he's been eating lunch alone for the past few days. However, the thought of doing that passes just as quickly as it came.

With a small sigh, I down the rest of my coffee and then toss the empty cup into the bin. I pull myself up off my chair, smoothing down my skirt slightly before I make my way out of my office. I expect Riley to be at his desk, as I was going to invite him to get lunch with me, but when I pass by I find he's not there, probably gone out for lunch already.

Reluctantly, I step into the elevator and press the floor for where the canteen is. I can't remember the last time I ate down there, probably when I first started working here, but I do remember that I didn't particularly like the food very much. Hopefully it's gotten a little better since then.

The elevator dings and I step out into the hallway, following the signs leading to the canteen. I push open the double doors and step inside, almost cringing at the horrible sound of my heels against the vinyl floor, somehow being reminded of school. To make the deja vu even worse, I turn around to find the serving counter looks exactly like school, almost making me let out a laugh.