The 18th Floor

Chapter Thirty Two

It's been one week without Lucien in the office and the only update we've gotten is that he messaged Simon saying 'I'm fine', whatever that means. I also messaged him, despite not wanting to, I still did. I didn't get a response.

It's 9:10 and I don't expect him to come in today, but then my office door opens and I look up to see him.

He's already looking at me. Despite the winter, his olive skin seems abnormally leached of colour. The heavy bags under his eyes back again, and his shoulders caved in. Gone is the confident man that stands there most morning; this is someone completely new. Someone who doesn't want to be here, who really shouldn't be here.

"Good morning, Lucien", I manage to say from the relief of seeing him. I almost feel like I'm going to collapse at the sight of him. The mere fact that he is here and alive.

He nods, "morning". Clipped and straight.

I clear my throat and watch him take a seat opposite me. I don't know what to say or do, this isn't the Lucien that was kissing me a few weeks ago.

I begin, "are you o-"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh... ok, I'm sorry I ju-"

"Not now."

He cut me off twice. I suddenly feel trapped and restricted like I can't breathe. Something is wrong. I turn to look out our window to avoid looking over at him. But I can't stop myself, when I turn to face him, he's already head down at his desk typing away. I can't feel the usually warmth that streams out of him and it feels like torture knowing that something is terribly wrong right now.

I clear my throat, "Lucien."

"Please", is all he says before putting on his headphones. I find myself at a loss for words. Did he really just cut me off and then put on his headphones to drown me out? Fear and humiliation start to claw at my throat.

He's realised his mistake; the regret has hit him. And it's suddenly hitting me too. Or is that embarrasement?

I can't think. He wants nothing to do with me.

I blink back the tears and with shaky hands make a move to leave the room. I need space and air. He doesn't even protest at me leaving. I refuse to cry in front of him.

"Cyrene, was that Lucien I just saw?", Simon asks as he leaves his office.

"Ask him yourself", is all I say as I make my way to the bathroom.

--

The rest of the day goes by in an icy frenzy. Lucien acting cold and cut off, no conversations. He hasn't even bothered to ask about the work I've done nor does he look at me.

Our morning meeting which had been changed to afternoon comes around and I expect him to be the same. But then he smiles as Abbi and Reid come in, talks to them like a normal person and acts as if he hasn't been a total prick for the last few hours.

I suddenly feel hot with rage. Am I the fucking problem? Or is he suddenly feeling better after lunch?

I don't say anything, I let the meeting run its usual course, silently fuming, Lucien leading and Simon taking the meeting notes. I can't help but notice Simon looking back and forth between me and Lucien.

After the meeting I expect him to talk to me, to say something at least, but the ice is back and the room suddenly feels cold again. He doesn't even look at me.

At 4:55 he finally speaks, "are you ready to go home?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Ok, let's go down."

I look at him confused. Is he being serious? He has practically ignored me the whole day, making it obvious he no longer wants anything to do with me, and now he thinks I want to get in a car with him.

"I'm taking the train", I tell him.

"What?"

"I'm going to get the train home", I repeat sternly.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Cyrene, let me drive you."

"No."

"No?", his voice raises a decibel as he questions me.

"I've already paid for my travel card. I can't afford for it to go to waste. I didn't know how long you would be gone for, not like you told anyone", I mumble the last part under my breath.

He runs his hands through his hair, an action he so rarely does, "I'll reimburse you." Why is he trying so hard after giving me the cold shoulder all day?

I don't say anything, I just take my bag and leave through the door he's holding open for me. He follows behind as I go towards the lifts.

We both get in, he presses -2, I press for the ground floor.

"Cyrene, don't do this."

"Do what?"

"This", he says, waving his hands about.

"What is 'this' Lucien?", I question back harshly, confused and angry, at what I don't even know. I don't understand where all this emotion is coming from all of a sudden. He doesn't respond, just looks at me, something like sadness coating his eyes.

He doesn't reply.

The lift pings for the ground floor and the doors open. I look out the doors, then back at him, waiting for something, anything, but nothing happens.

I leave the lift and take the train home.