Door Four: Expectations

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THE NIGHT WAS clear. The surprise snowfall had ceased shortly after the the two left the restaurant. Their time together took an unexpected turn that neither sought out. This seemed to be exactly what she had feared earlier, even though she promised herself she would not jump to any conclusions. As the two hours passed, forced conversations were met with awkward silences which only worsened as the seconds and minutes progressed. A nauseating turmoil began in her stomach and made the delicious food on her plate look displeasing, but still, she ate.

Anyone can tell you to stay away from work relationships, and maybe that was what caused both of them to act different for the rest of the night. She could only imagine that he felt the same way, considering how their conversations would quickly come to a close.

Throughout the date, she wished that maybe more personal conversations would be spoken, but not even that. Even with her sympathy, the date was not going as planned, so she began growing tired of the back and forth that, at length, did not have an end. To her, the over played conversations felt like a rotary with no exit. Over and over again, she questioned at what point of the date did something go wrong. Could it have been something she said that he possibly didn't agree with? She wished she knew.

The ride home was silent as the night. The hope for something more picked at her churning stomach and forced her to nip on the dead skin of her fingers. Heat blasted from the vents onto the cool windows, creating foggy patterns against the glass. The cinnamon skinned girl played with the strings on her purse until the car came to a complete stop in front of the familiar building.

"Thanks for tonight," she said, finally looking up. He was already staring at her by the time she had locked eyes with him. She could sense that something was off about him since the night ended, and if Luca would be a dog, he would have his tail between his legs and his ears faced down.

"I'm sorry you didn't have a good time..." he stated in a blunt assumption.

Indira blinked a few times before shaking her head at him. "What makes you think I had a bad time?" She questioned with a creased brow.

"Nothing I shouldn't have said anything." And at the end of that sentence followed the click of the door lock. He wanted her to go.

"Luca—"

"Indira, it's okay," he interrupted her with a poorly drawn smile. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel in attempt to make this situation seem as light as possible. She could see through the failed attempt that something else was wrong.

"If it was something I said—"

He interrupted her once again. "It wasn't," he shook his head. "Promise."

His answers weren't enough, but to prod even further would only worsen things between them, and she would hate to have that transfer over to work.

"Have a goodnight," she told him, and he only nodded. She waited, but not for a cliche goodbye kiss that all chick-flicks had. Instead she waited for him to say it back like he usually does.

"Goodnight Indira."

She went against her own conscious and leaned over to give him a kiss on his cheek. Once the door to the passenger side was open and then shut after her exit, she didn't turn back. The only sound left behind was the hum of the car speeding away on the slippery road. She took in a deep cool breath before entering the lobby of the apartment building.

She was almost mad at herself for not trying to diffuse the problem between them, and she was one last straw away from putting the blame on herself. It was common for her to immediately think she was the problem in every bad situation and for her to untangle herself from that internal conflict sometimes took weeks. Of course she wanted something good to happen with Luca, of course she wanted that stupid cliche goodbye kiss. But more than anything, she did not want this night to determine how long their friendship would last.

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