What Used To Be

i

The air had a funk to it, a funk that smelled like the aftermath of the night before leftovers from the restaurant left in the car for too long. Probably because that is what happened. Entering the car, the first thing that hit me was the smell, and then the realization of how forgetful I had been while getting home that night. I didn't want to blame myself for it, since every time we ever went out and had leftovers, he was the one who grabbed them out of the car when we'd get back home. It was routine, I would grab the phones, his wallet, his cigarettes, my purse, and he would grab the bag that had the leftovers. Somewhere along the lines of putting myself together, I guess I didn't think about something as menial as this, and old me would've fallen apart at the thought of having to do it all myself, but I had done enough of that lately and honestly I just didn't have the time today, albeit it took me a minute to compose myself.

I accepted that I was the only one to blame for this carelessness, grabbed the bag of stale takeout and dumped it in the nearest bin. Part of me wanted to leave the windows down while I drove so that the horrid stench could leave the car, but it was too hot outside for it and I decided I'd rather deal with it and put the ac on blast. I didn't let my mind wander; half of my problems were the cause of it and I had learned my lesson one too many times. My job was to get from point A to point B and that's what I was going to do.

Passing by gravelly roads littered by sparse trees bent over in prostration hanging on to dear life by a thread, I wondered when was the last time they had been watered. The weather was unforgiving and it seemed like nature was being its own enemy which I oddly related to. Seeing the towering white building in the horizon, I took a left turn and headed straight for it, flashed my card and passed through the gates easily. They let me through, and I wondered if they would've done the same if I didn't have my access card, considering the amount of times I had been here in the last 8 months. I was edging dangerously close to the point where I could've almost called this my home but I knew better than that. Parking my car. I grabbed my phone and got out, heading towards the elevator that would take me up to the 37th floor.

A round of "good mornings" and "how you doing ?"s were thrown my way yet I remained unresponsive while I headed towards the office where I was beckoned, through a text sent at 4 42 am.

My office, 10 am. Don't be late.

I glanced at the watch on my wrist, 12:27 glaring at me tauntingly, almost as if it knew that I would be in trouble. I didn't knock before I barged in, the occupants of the room didn't even throw a fleeting glance at me, unbothered by the disruption. I sank into the plush velvet 3 seater in the corner of the room by the window, almost daring to put my feet up on the darkwood coffee table in front of me, but thought against it and instead put my feet up on the sofa, grabbed a throw pillow and put it under my head and closed my eyes. I felt his eyes glaring at me, but I knew he wouldn't do anything about it, at least not while there were people in the room. I could hear them talking about a merger and accounts and acquisition, all of which I wasn't interested in.

A set of footsteps headed my way, slightly muted by the carpeted floor, but I knew who it was and I knew where they were headed.

"Nice to see you've made yourself at home, Elise. Would you like for me to grab you a blanket and turn down the lights so you can catch up on your beauty sleep ?"

"While you're at it, why don't you make me a cup of chamomile tea too ? I've heard it calms your nerves and helps you sleep easy."

My sarcasm didn't fly over his head, but Elijah chose not to respond to me, instead shoving my legs off the sofa with an "it's Italian" muttered under his breath. He took the place where my feet were resting not so long ago, and I glared at him for it, but he didn't pay any attention to it.