My Favorite Stranger

2

A bellowing wave of sadness swept Mya right underneath. Her mind conjured vivid and dark phantasm's of the past — false memories and real ones forcing themselves together and getting nowhere, sitting on top of each other like oil and water.

Black hair like fresh ink on white paper and heavy brows upon dark eyes that undressed her every time they scathed her way.

"Tristan ..."

"I can't do this anymore, Mya."

"Tristan, please, we can—"

"I don't want to do this anymore!"

The strong voice echoed in her head, making her weak at the knees. Her heart pumping furiously as it numbed in her chest cavity.

All of this was still painful, like a deep slice across her chest and a stab in her heart. The bleeding insistent and uncomfortably hot. There was no escaping the lonely reality even in her dreams.

When Mya woke up, her body was undergoing several hot chills. Some mornings she endured this and most times it meant that her period was ready to begin, but she'd just got through with it a week ago.

Her naked body was tangled in between several expensive sheets, the sunlight threatening to break through her blinds. She moaned softly into the crisp air, the hangover from last night's drinks beating at the front of her head. The hangovers were the worst part. Always a painful and discomforting reminder of the night before.

Mya's dark hair spread across her pillow. Her eyes blinking slowly, trying to get rid of the sandpaper feeling in them while dealing with the pounding in her head. Her stomach began to make odd noises, signifying that she was hungry. Her body called for food and water.

She didn't want to wake up. Waking up meant that she had no choice but to function through the day and pretend to be normal. It meant she had to face her thoughts and feelings and she was beyond sick of doing that.

She was sick of letting Tristan rule her mind and heart. Sick of crying and some part of her deep down was sick of drinking the pain away, of waking up feeling sick.

Couldn't the healing process just be done in bed?

Did she have to go to the summit? Couldn't she just request a fill-in? Of course not. She was a powerful woman and one of the best in her field. People were eager to meet her, to sprawl their ideas and business offers upon her. To try and steal her away from Saylo.

And did she have to go meet up with Jeanie for coffee today? It was rare Mya was in the mood anymore to be social with her close friends. It's not like she had anything new to discuss anyway.

She released a soft groan into her pillow, thinking about the events that were going to take place. She had to meet up with Jeanie, buy some extra items to pack for the summit and book her own hotel. She definitely didn't want to be in the same building as her co-workers and Tristan if she didn't need to be.

After a long stretch of time, Mya managed to drag herself out of bed to shower and get ready for another day.

She placed her large purse down in the passenger seat of her white 2019 Jaguar XJR-Sport. Her black jeans and black heels matching the interior of the car. Her hair was down once more, pulled behind her ears and her lips were painted with gloss today.

She was on her way to meet Jeanie at their favorite coffee spot, Eighty 8.

It was a hole in the wall spot, one that was catered to a certain niche of people. Of course, Mya and Jeanie stuck out like sore thumbs in the place, but they were usuals, recognized by the many different baristas who worked there and switched shifts. They were also known for their gracious tipping habits.