Stained Recovery

The meet-cute || Chapter 1

MOTHER FUCKER.

I sat there staring at the image sent via my Facebook Messenger. The words glared at me in black ink, mocking me -- making my head spin.

You are cordially invited to attend Naomi and Jett's Wedding.

The pointless chatter around me came to a halt as I focused on the words one this single message. It came from a close friend of mine back at home, where I was supposed to be staying for the next 6 months. Yes, the keyword was "supposed" -- until my father's health started to crash and forced him to retire.

I was supposed to stay with my mother -- in Manila. I was supposed to try and fix things with Naomi. I was supposed to say that I'll wait until she's ready -- that I don't care how long it'll take.

"Cleo, are you listening? Please take this seriously -- this is one of your Father's biggest accounts. Aaron Kirman himself would've traded his balls just to have this." Daniel Whittman, the executive assistant to Phillip Gilbert, my trusted right-hand man -- also one of my best friends.

For a 28-year-old undergraduate, he sure is successful, and what I envy the most, is that he never had to worry about his love life. He got married at 25 and happily lived with his husband -- who's probably waiting for him downstairs.

"Sorry, I uh... can we reschedule this meeting for tomorrow? I'm not feeling well." My stoic voice boomed inside the room full of well-suited men, looking all professional and very formal.

I suddenly felt the walls cave in -- so I unbuttoned the first 2 buttons of the sky blue shirt I was wearing. I tried looking at the men around me sternly, the dry look I'm giving them should be warning enough. As the minute passed, they all just sighed and stood to leave the conference room.

When the last man from Marketing Department left, Dan stood confused and looked at me for an explanation.

"Yo, what the fuck was that bud?! That was an important meeting, you can't just dismiss those men and order them around Cleo! You've been staring at your phone, what the hell's been so interesting with your phone huh?" He firmly said, oh, he's pissed. One thing about this guy is that he never slacks from work.

"Nothing -- I was distracted, I received a message," I said trying to control my breathing.

"Bro, you need to take this seriously. They already think you don't deserve that spot! What you're doing is proving them right, get your shit together!" He yelled, getting mad by the minute.

I can't help but respond in the same tone. "Naomi's getting married!" My outburst probably shocked the hell out of him.

I rarely get mad at my best friend — when I do, it's all business-related. Not because I'm personally pissed off at him.

He just stood there, arms slacked beside him. His frown turned into an expression of sadness. Sadness that reflects my own.

"Naomi, your ex-fiance, Naomi — who said she wasn't ready to settle down and still wants to pursue her dreams is a doctor? The same girl who broke off your 2-year engagement?" He asked with a tone of disappointment.

I can't find my voice — I'm afraid that if I speak up, my voice would probably crack and tears would gush out my eyes so I just nodded.

"Fucking bitch! I knew it! I fucking knew it, Cleo! She was just waiting to throw your ass off! Who's she getting married to? I bet it's that fucking midget of a douchebag who's always getting comfy when you're not around in Manila!" Daniel was seething.

I showed him the invitation photo. His eyes scanned the image and I can almost see the veins on his forehead pop. "Who the fuck sent you this?" He asked.