Chapter 21
Elen a
“Finally!” I groan as I jump off from my suitcase that I finally got zipped up after hours of trying. I might have overpacked if it barely closes but also at the same time I have a small suitcase and who expects everything to fit in that. I can’t afford a bigger one so I have to fight through it.
I blow my hair away that is getting in my way and sticking to my sweaty forehead. The loose shirt sticks to my sweaty body and I lift it up, trying to get some air to my chest that is overheating. I really have to start hitting the gym if this is already a workout and my stamina needs to be built. I can barely survive walking the stairs up and down to the little cafeteria on my floor.
I shut down the music playing in my apartment and look at myself in the mirror. My forehead is covered in sweat and my mascara is slightly smudged under my eyes and I look like I just woke up from a wet dream.
To say I am standing on a thin line before I crash is an understatement. I am toying with the line, trying to keep myself balanced and not weigh myself down. But with every word, every glance, ever touch is placing a weight on my shoulders pushing me into the lava of attraction.
I started a game of attraction and now I have no way out.
The student became the master.
And I became a student.
“Wow. I really messed myself up.” I say to myself in a low mumble. “And I have to stop talking to myself.”
It’s only Thursday today and I still have work until three tomorrow but better early than sorry. I can’t pack in stress. I will forget half of my stuff including my dignity and patience. And I will be needing those on the two-week trip with my boss.
Only the thought of it gives me the chills all over my body. My whole-body shudders and I shake off the cooling air that hits my sensitive skin.
Ever since the night Gabriel found his sketching I made, I will admit I have made more and with each one I zoomed in closer to his lips. I could watch him talk for hours - or rather his lips as he talks. That night was also the first time in years since I decided to leave Ben’s comments behind, that I picked up a pencil and sketched and never stopped sketching until my hand felt like it would fall off.
Art has always been something I admired. How a portrait of colours can show so many emotions and feelings and a whole story.
You can paint a lot with emotion. Especially sadness because that is when most artists are creative. With their sadness because that is the emotion that holds the most. It can be grief and it can also be a happy sadness that only the art of colours can show.
It takes a moment for me to get myself together and I get on to packing a carry-on for the plane with every essential that I need.
Passport, drivers licence, my iPad, kindle, an extra charger in case I lose the one I have in my suitcase, hand cream, hand sanitizer, earphones, an extra lip gloss because even at the airport you have to look decent and a 100 ml water bottle, which is allowed on the plane. The thoughts of the germs on the glasses of the aeroplane gives me the chills so better be prepared.
I wheel the suitcase along with my carry-on next to my bedside table and take a much-needed breather when it is finally in place and I sit on the floor of my small bedroom. My eyes wander around the rather clean room even after all the packing I did. The clean view display of my room still makes me feel unwell at the pit of my stomach as I sit there with my legs crossed on the carpet.
My bed is close to the wall and I have the sudden urge to move it to the middle out of nowhere.
Every time I lay on my bed with my feelings tangled off the bed, it reminds me of that night. Everything in this bedroom is reminding me of him ever since he stepped foot in it and it is driving me crazy to the level of insane.
Ten days. I can survive that.
I can survive acting like his beloved fiancé for ten days.
Accepting my fate is not an option I am yet taking into consideration at this moment so I will enjoy the last few moments of peace before my anxiety will wreck me at the vacation.
My anxiety loves to act up during stressful situations and that one faint episode I had at the office was my body telling me to stop.
How can I stop if I have wired my brain so far that not even when I am at peace I can’t stop the thoughts from running around like headless chickens in my brain.
I get up from my comfortable position on the carpet as the apartment doorbell rings and I open without looking through the peephole like I normally do and get stuck in a personal meeting with the devil.
“Flower delivery.” My ex says in an annoyingly weird noise and laughs at himself. I pull a face of disgust and try to find a plan on how to slam the door in his face without waking up Judis - my upstairs neighbour from her sleep. I have had enough coffee dates with her to know when she sleeps.
Always so early.
“Do you see that trash bag hanging by the door?” I point behind him, the trash bag still hanging there from Judas as she probably forgot she left it there. “Throw them there and might as well get in there while you are on your way.”
“Come on Lena.”
“Stop calling me that.” I shout at him and lower my voice in an instant. He doesn’t deserve to call me that name.
Never again.
“You left me when I needed you the most and that with one of my friends and now you can’t just show up here demanding me back. I have moved on and so should you. For the sake of your dignity because you look ridiculous begging like that.” And I slam the door in his face like I had the intention to do the whole time.
That felt good.
I should have done that earlier.
But the good feeling in me soon enough dies down when my phone starts ringing in my room. With a deep groan as I make my way there.
If he thinks I will answer his calls then he has lost his mind.
I pick my ringing phone up from the bed and turn it around, Gabriel’s name flashes on the bright screen.
My eyes widen even further than they already were when I notice that it is a FaceTime call.
He has got to be kidding me.
I stress myself further on what to do and pick up the call. I duck down as the phone is laying in the bed, the camera on the wall.
“What?” That was rude.
“Hello, Elena’s wall.” He jokes and I lightly groan when I hear the well-known chuckles from him. A chuckle makes the weird feeling in me spark.
“You are funny. You do have some jokes in you.” I laugh as I crawl on the floor around my bed to get my emergency phone to text Reneè.
Always keep your best friend close when drama happens.
This case scenario, my fiancé is the drama.
“Always keep them with me to tell you about them. Makes it worth it to make a fool of myself.” My brows furrow at his weird sentence structure and my sleepy head is trying to decipher his words.
I halt in my steps. “What do you mean?”
“It’s worth making a fool of myself, trying to joke. It makes you laugh.” My mouth opens at his words, I fall to the floor like I just fainted and I want to die. I slap my hand over my mouth and silently scream into it as I roll on the floor in agony while a bright smile is spread across my face.
He can’t say stuff like that.
I silently shout at myself as I hit my elbow on the bed leg. This has to happen.
“You okay, love?”
“Peaches!” I shouted out and accidentally hit my head against the bed. Not again. That will leave a bruise.
I sit up from the floor, regretting my decision the moment disaster struck. I rub the sore spot on my forehead, the stinging sensation piercing through my brain and my last brain cells that haven’t fallen off with the bump.
“Why- why are you calling?” I stutter on my words and walk around the bed to get to my ‘burner’ phone. I slowly open the drawer and take it out, sending a fast ‘code red’ text to her. It might seem dramatic but this is a code red in my opinion.
“Are you packed?”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Always a day ahead.”
“A day ahead?” He questions and his voice gets quiet. “Okay, I will pick you up tomorrow.”
“Wha- why. Why?” I get louder with the last question, sitting up again. The other phone flashes open with a text from Reneè.
“You do know we leave for Venice tomorrow? Right?”
“What?” My voice gets louder and without rethinking what I am doing. I take the phone from the bed and point the camera at me and might as well watch porn at the same time because my oh my does he look like the hottest star. “What do you mean tomorrow?”
“We leave after work tomorrow because landing on Saturday is kind of an inconvenience and then the pre-event happens on Saturday evening too.”
“What the hell is a pre-event?”
“Hello, my love. You look beautiful.” He compliments and I stutter. The butterflies in my stomach explode. “It’s a small dinner party happening to celebrate that Zahra Harper opens the first charity auction in years. The actual event is on Sunday evening.” He casually continues his sentence after he dropped that bomb.
“Hold on. Did you just say Zahra Harper?”
“Yeah?”
“Nate Harper’s wife?” My voice cracks as I shout out. I cannot believe it.
He hums.
“The Formula One McAli driver Nate Harper?” I ask him again to make sure I have it right.
“Right, you love that team. And yes.”
“Not just the team, have you seen Nate himself? Zahra is one lucky gal.” I want to squeal so loudly that I will be eating dinner with Nate Harper but I will keep my excitement to myself. For now.
I need to beat the stereotypes that girls only watch Formula One for the guys. I have been watching Formula One since I was born. Even before because my mum always told me I used to kick her when she was watching races.
I always shut guys up with that information but I did it so sexist that girls always get asked questions when it comes to liking a sport and if a guy says he likes a sport, he gets praised and they don’t even question him.
“A little crush on a driver?” His voice sounds neutral but when you compare it to his facial expression, then it is anything but calm. He is mad.
I smile. “Don’t be jealous. He is married. I would never go for a married man.”
“Not that you can go after any guy.”
“Rude. I could get any guy I want.”
“You could, but it is not going to happen.”
“Why are you jealous?” I taunt and laugh at myself for trying to sound seductive but rather failing and making a fool of myself.
“Are you trying to make me jealous?”
“Maybe.”
“Then yes.”
“Then you are unbelievable.”
“Say what you want. Doesn’t change the fact of who you belong to.”
“I belong?”
“Want to object to it?”
I think for a moment. “No but it sounds weird. It’s like seeing someone as property.”
“I don’t see you as property, I see you as mine.” He says in a heartbeat and my heartbeat increases in seconds. Never have I seen Gabriel think before he says some things like that and it makes me wonder if he means them or if he has them wired to his brain and knows that he needs to say them.
I try to keep my nerves low and just smile at his words. I shrug my shoulders; both ends of the call are in complete silence.
“Is it a good thing that I am a complete control freak and packed today?” I ask him, hoping that he declines my biggest fear and tells me I am not a control freak. I have been like that for as long as I can remember. I hate mess and I hate it when something isn’t in order.
“I would have reminded you either way, love. I wouldn’t miss the chance to call my fiancé.”
“But am I a control freak?”
“No. You just like control of your surroundings.” Control. Yeah, I am not a control freak. I just like control and most of the time that is okay. Most.
Sometimes I have to admit I overdo it but who the hell eats cookies in bed? Reneè shouldn’t be surprised that I will force her to eat over the sink.
“Cool.” I nod and a small smile creeps up my lips and I just try to play it off. “Well, thank you for the reminder. I am going to continue packing.”
“I thought you finished?”
“I just have to check a few more times to make sure I didn’t miss anything.” I murmur in a low voice.
I watch him on my phone screen as he closes his eyes and laughs.
A laugh bubbles out of me and I get embarrassed quickly, covering my red turning face with my hand as I laugh with him. “Okay, maybe sometimes I am a control freak.” I admit and he just nods. I don’t mind being a control freak sometimes but I do like being in control all the time.
Got to have control but around Gabriel. I have no control. Everything in me stiffens every time I see him and butterflies erupt in my stomach and corrupt me with a surge of energy. He makes me nervous and not the good kind of flattery. The kind of flattered that makes me want him to just slam me against the wall and just fuck me out of control.