This might be another one of my favorite chapters. Ugh, when you read just imagine a visual of it as a movie or show. You won't be disappointed, lord. I wasn't. Haha. Enjoy!
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The last few months have made me quite anxious based on a few things, but this morning I felt more than that. It was like I could barely keep anything down, without feeling a sense of uncertainty.
My hands also shook more than usual, but the only thing making me feel good was a deep flutter adjusting inside of me. Then I would get calm and feel sure for eight minutes. Then repeat.
It wasn't the fact that he was going to be around, no, I'm not giving him that satisfaction of showing any fear. Floyd is still the same man that he was last year, hell, probably last weekend if we are being honest.
You can't end up teaching an old pet, new tricks. There is no doubt in my mind that he'd rather be doing anything else than having a sitdown with Zayn and I, after they tormented us.
My eyes focused on my reflection while taking in my outfit, it was more on the formal side of anything. I haven't worn anything like this since I was a teenager, dressing like this to appease the guests my mother used to bring over for dinner.
Back then I promised myself that I'd never dress like this again, wearing anything that didn't actually make me feel too god. But here I am.
Some things have come around full circle, and it felt like I should be laughing or crying. Hell, I probably did need to have a therapy session or two, even though it was pretty much awful to me right now. It was better than nothing, I just needed to get over my aggression towards my mother.
And let all of that pain go. Just so I can move forward in life, but it's so hard when I'm about to have a meeting with her, and the other two people that have done nothing but ruined it so far...
Zayn stood behind me wearing a regular black suit that was paired with a black shirt, leaving two of the buttons undone. He's obviously not feeling up to par with dressing in color, or wearing any damn thing in hopes of creating a bond with any of these people. He wanted them to know that he isn't feeling it, and neither did I, which is why I settled on a plum work attired fitting dress for it.
It worked out for me, because we both looked the part. "What?" I question after noticing Zayn watching me through the mirrored reflection, glancing at me from head to toe, and repeat.
"You never dressed like this before." He comments vaguely.
What? Does he not like it, I mean everything was appropriate for this meeting. He's never really expressed any interest with my clothes before, usually he'd just compliment them or say that I looked beautiful. Maybe on a few occasions have someone pick something out for me to wear.
But that was really it. And he'd always continued with something else.
Maybe it was the idea of wanting to look professional, as if I can handle anything to make not only him proud. But myself, that's why I was more than interested with his opinion.
