Min YoonGi paced the floor of his office, the hard leather soles of his shoes clicking softly on the polished wooden floors, the sun disappearing in the windows behind him.
“Where the hell is Miriam?” He thought. Then he checked the time again.
It was 6:30 on a Friday night in early summer. She had left work and gone home like everyone else in the building.
Yoongi winced at that thought, everyone but him.
He grabbed the whiskey decanter from the well stocked bar in the corner and poured another shot. She should be here damn it! He needed her.
He had already texted her with some excuse about needing her to come immediately to pull files for his review.
He was being a jerk, but he drowned that guilt in the liquor.
He had been in court all week. He thought he would at least have returned to the office today in time to end the day with her.
He had won the trial that had wasted his week. She would have known it without asking, could have heard it in his voice or seen it in his face.
She would not be looking for happiness or victory. She would have immediately seen the exhaustion and mental fatigue. She would sense the lingering irritation at the client who remained demanding and ungrateful despite the multi million dollar verdict.
She would help him remove his jacket with the lightest touch across his shoulders and her fingers would brush his when she handed him a drink and her soft voice would rain calm on him.
The words would not matter so long as he could listen to her, hear her soft breaths, smell the scent that was all her. But he was late and he arrived to a dark, empty office. It was the same as a tomb without her here.
He paced to his desk and picked up the note left propped against a bottle of his favorite champagne. He cursed out loud. He should be sharing it with her right now. He checked his watch. She would be here soon.
He ignored the twinge of guilt in asking her to come here on a Friday night. He shook it off. He leaned against the desk and rolled his shoulders trying to ease the tension away.
His skin felt stretched too tight and he knew his anxiety would deepen as the night wore on. He looked out into the growing darkness and knew his mood would do the same – descend into ink blackness- without Miriam.
He wondered again where she was. He would make this up to her, make it worth her while to come back in on a Friday night. He would call her favorite restaurant and charm a table for them. They would find a quiet booth and good food and she would soothe his soul with a look.
She would tell him about her day or they would sit in contented silence. She would pick up every nuance of his emotions and guide him away from the darkness. She always did.
As he was thinking this, he heard the elevator arrive and he immediately felt the tension ease a notch He stopped the pacing and sat on the edge of his desk, one leg swinging in time to the quickening beat of his heart.
He watched the door expectantly, already seeing her in his mind’s eye, buttoned up and professional and breathtakingly beautiful.
Miriam opened the door and stepped in and he really did lose his breath for a moment.
He anticipated her appearing in the door in one of her slim skirts and jewel toned blouses, silk stockings and high heels that clicked across the floor so he could easily pinpoint her location in the office.
Her hair would be neat and professional, too much so for him most days. He briefly wondered if she ever suspected he longed to pull it down to circle her shoulders, that he imagined it falling to curtain his face as she braced herself above him.
But tonight he got all the details wrong.
