The worst part of being late was having to stay a bit longer as a penalty to close the restaurant at night. It was never amusing. I started re-wiping the counters after my coworkers had all left for home and my boss had given me the keys.
Because they are aware that the person closing would have to wipe everything down anyhow, the other employees typically don't clean as thoroughly. It's all just messed up because I feel like I'm the only one that genuinely cleans my area properly out of pity for the person closing.
The door's bell rings while I'm wiping down the front counter. "We just closed," I say before I could turn to see who it was. Maliki's distinctive voice called out to me,
"Leya?" I stop wiping. I considered giving him a look. He appears to have clothed himself in the dark because his hair is a mess along with two different styles of slip-on sandals and mixed socks. He's a complete mess.
"Maliki, why are you here?" I enquire.
"Do you have a few minutes to spare?" he asks as he moves cautiously toward the counter.
"Maliki, no. I have to hurry up and get home." I said.
"Why are you avoiding me?" he asks worriedly. I sigh.
"I don't have time for this because I've been so busy," I said.
"What do you mean you don't have time for this? What is this? After our break up, I just wanted to check-in. I don't want your grief to persist." he states.
"Considering that I've been fine, I have no idea what you're referring to. I believe that you continue to be upset. You don't see me casually walking into your workplace at 11 pm!" I raise my hands in exasperation. "Look, I have told you already," I exhale and rub my face with my hands, "I have no compassion for you, Maliki. And just because you do doesn't necessarily mean that we should reunite. That is not how it works."
"I know that I don't inspire happiness or affection in you. However, I want you to know that I am always here for you," he claims.
"If you weren't, that would be better," I say. His expression alters to one of sadness and offense. "Maliki, I'm sorry, but it's true." His chin trembles as he bites his upper lip. When he replies,
"Okay," his eyes start to tear up. He makes his way to the door after turning. He pauses halfway and turns slightly. "Did you notice that pink paper outside?" he asks, his eyes brimming with tears and a false smile. I nod my head.
"Why?" I ask.
"It just seemed like something you would be interested in," he guesses, "Anyhow, I'll see you later. You'll soon be happy, Leya."
He left the restaurant before I could tell him to never come back.
YOU ARE READING
The Love of My Death
Mystery / ThrillerIn this short but thrilling story Leya's life isn't terrible... but not as good as she would want it to be. She wants her life to be like the stories with the happy endings. She had just broken up with her ex boyfriend, Maliki, who didn't make her h...
