Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
A Forgotten Dinner
From the office bathroom to the hallway of my apartment building, she remains at my hip. Casper—the not-so-friendly ghost—has not disappeared once since we left the humiliation ritual at my office. Her presence hangs in silence as we sit in the rideshare to my apartment.
“He’s there, just so you know.”
Her warning catches me off guard as I make my way out of the car and up the stairs, peering over my shoulder to see her right there beside me, making the most grimacing facial expression.
“You know he wasn’t always this way…” I say, turning my key in the door handle, cracking the door open slightly to see Aidan on the couch wearing only gray sweats and no shirt. A look on him that I prefer over the suits he wears frequently for meetings.
He jumps out of his seat as soon as he sees me. Every muscle of his is flexed.
“I came home last night and you weren’t here.” Aidan smothers me in a hug, hungrily kissing me and showing me that he is relieved I am okay.
“I fell asleep at work. I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to be here at my place. I thought you were coming over tonight instead?”
“You don’t have to justify anything,” Ghosty commands. I remain still as a statue in his arms, trying to slow my heartbeat in my chest.
“We had dinner plans with my parents. You left me alone to deal with them,” he says.
I pull away from his hold. “We had plans with them for Thursday?”
“It’s Friday.” Aidan raises his right eyebrow higher than his left, taking a step closer to me.
“Shit, I’m so sorry. There was this presentation and I—”
“My parents think you don’t have time for me anymore. You haven’t shown up to an event of theirs in ages. We haven’t had a real date night in months.”
“That’s not true. I tried to on Memorial Day weekend, remember, but I had to work late.”
“You are always working late, Charlotte.”
In an instant, the same picture frame I just replaced a few weeks ago falls back down to the ground, shattering once again in a million little pieces.
“What the hell?”
Running to the spot where it has just fallen, I pick up all the shards in my hand.
“This is a prime example of how you are distracted. Our relationship is distracting for you.”
“The picture frame just fell. I was just going over to pick it up. I’m listening to you!”
“No, you’re not.”
“My full attention is on you. See?”
I drop the pieces of glass dramatically on the ground, turning my body back to him. He reaches out for my hand, moving us to the couch.
His leg is jittery and the dark circles under his eyes are more visible than usual. His insomnia is looking worse than during finals week.
He was just worried, I remind myself.
“Can we just cuddle in bed? Reset?” I move to my tippy toes to lean into him for a kiss.
He doesn’t say a word, only gives me a soft peck in response. I let out a satisfied smile as we glide toward the bedroom, ready to sleep, tucked safely into his hold.
If I just close my eyes, the last twenty-four hours would just fade away. I wouldn’t have to acknowledge everything that has happened.
For now, the warmth of his body pressed against mine is enough.
When the next day comes, it takes everything in me to not call out sick. I don’t do my normal coffee run. I don’t even show up on time.
Because I know that today, I’m almost certain —I’m going to get fired.
A blast of wind is thrown at me as soon as I open the office doors. Blowing my hair in all kinds of directions as I feel every employee in BP staring at me. Waiting for my arrival. More importantly, waiting for me to react.
The only thing making me react is the glowing pendant signaling to me she is around the corner causing the blue light to radiate and the wind to blow in my direction.
I make my way over to my designated cubicle covered in fairy lights. Ready to take out my laptop, water bottle…
And a cake?
Someone left a cake on my desk. Peering inside the box, heat spreads across my face. An image of me was transferred onto it, showing the paparazzi photos in action—my drool, frizzy hair and phone lying on my chest, passed out on Chris’s couch.
Looking past the sea of cubicles, I shout the words, “Real funny” to the employees watching. Cake emojis sound off in our company chat.
I barely even notice Jake from accounting swinging around the corner to say, “You look cute when you are sleeping. Just the right amount of drool.” He teases. For context, Jake hasn’t talked to me in the three years I’ve been here.
Before I can say anything back, I hear Nicole’s voice pipes behind the other side of the divider, “I am going to start taking naps in his office now. I call dibs this afternoon.”
A few more people continue to come up to me with a few original quips and conversations about the importance of a good night’s sleep. It’s a day surrounded by memes.
As soon as I think they are all done laughing at me, Dominic invites me to happy hour. This episode of my life should be titled “Dazed and Confused.”
“What is going on?” I mutter. The chant picks up again. Right after “a luz sabe” is done echoing in my ear three times, her words follow. The pendant light is reflecting against my computer screen.
“No longer taking a back seat, I see…”
It takes everything inside of me not to respond, only focusing on the clashing of my fingertips against the keyboard as the buzzing notifications continue throughout my day. I don’t respond to a single one until Lena’s chat comes through around one p.m.
Lena: Are you okay?
Charlotte: Of course, I have cake now.
Lena replies with a laughing emoji. I sink in my chair, knowing that if any holiday party were to happen, I would hunt down whoever ordered this cake and draw a dick on their face while they’re shit-faced.
I press my fork into the middle of the cake and dig in. At least they got the flavor right. Carrot cake is always the right choice.
With a mouth full of cake, it hits me.
My name hasn’t been shouted across several cubicles, all day.
Charlotte: Where’s Chris?
Instead of Lena typing back, she pushes her chair to my cubicle, quietly saying in my right ear, “He is with Albert.”
“Why are we whispering?”
“Albert coming here two days in a row is not great.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m sure you figured it out yesterday… We are spending more than we are making.” Lena says a little too calmly.
My mouth hangs open as we watch Albert and Chris walk out of the conference room. This time, they aren’t fighting but shaking hands.
Right before they go their separate directions, Chris locks eyes on me as a crooked smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.