Everything I Never Said

Chapter One

The sound of London's soft drizzle was lulling me into a calming sleep. My room was dimly illuminated by autumn morning light, shining through the dormer window, and the sweet scent of the candles I had lit the night before was still lingering in the air. I found comfort in the warmth of my duvets, trying to delay my awakening as much as possible. The weekend had just ended, and I couldn't find the will to leave the soothing state I was in. Soon enough, my alarm rang, and with a low groan I extended my arm to switch it off.

«Good morning, today the weather in London is rainy. Weather conditions will remain stable throughout the day. Temperature is 2 degrees Celsius.» stated Siri through my iPhone as soon as I turned the alarm off.

«Great, what a nice way to start the week.» I dragged myself out of the bed and headed towards the bathroom. The reflection on the mirror showed my messy brown hair, still poorly braided from the night before, and the dark circles under my eyes. Nothing that some make-up won't cover... I thought to myself. I used to be much critical on myself during my teenage years, I had been overweight for most part of them, and never really appreciated any of the features that actually made me who I was: thus, covering my body with oversized clothes and changing my hair colour every once a month. It was a phase though, in fact, as soon as I got older, I began to take much more care of myself, and found out that I was actually pretty good looking. Probably that coming of age was also due to the fact that I had begun to go out much more and noticed that I was getting looked at - not that the male gaze was fundamental in the process, but clearly boosted my self-esteem. Now I was at a point in life where I genuinely did like myself, with or without make up, and I also enjoyed my body, whether it was toned or not.

I soon hopped in the shower and washed away my morning sleepiness: my mind had already begun to list the tasks I had to sort out at work during the day. I loved my job. I really did. I had worked so hard and passionately to achieve my position that when I finally landed it, I wasn't even surprised. I was over the moon of course, but not surprised, I believed I deserved it. I had been studying human resources at college and graduated with top grades and then got a master's degree in project management, which allowed me to work in some famous multinational companies and get myself known in the business. When I got the offer from ABI Bank to become their HR manager, I was thrilled, and had been there ever since. HR manager at 27, that was not bad. The salary granted me the possibility to rent my own flat, which - for those who have lived in London and know - is not a given. I definitely was a happy camper.

I stopped in front of my wardrobe, thinking about what I could wear that day. I stared at my clothes for about five minutes before deciding. Siri said it was 2 degrees outside, and rainy, but I didn't want to give up the outfit I had planned in my mind. As a matter of fact, I chose to wear my favourite black skirt and my go-to black turtleneck, paired with a blazer and, of course, tights. I pulled out a pair of black knee-high boots and matched them with my baby, my vintage Chanel flap bag. It was a bargain if you ask me, not that I could afford to spend more than ten thousand quids all at once, but getting it vintage in a shop at Chelsea was a win-win situation. Plus, it was for my birthday, so I had to.

I moved back to the bathroom, where I tied and secured my hair in a sleek low bun, and then proceeded to do my make-up. Nothing too elaborate, laminated brows, some foundation, bronzer and mascara. It looked good, at least good enough for a Monday morning. I left the room and completed my effortlessly corporate-girl outfit with a coat. I was ready to leave. Luckily, my flat in Canary Wharf was a 2-minutes walk from the tube station and close to the Pret where I usually grabbed breakfast every day. Every morning, before heading to work, I stopped by and ordered my usual small cappuccino and a blueberry muffin; and this morning was no different. I walked in the coffee shop and waved at Ayla and Yusuf, respectively the cashier and the barista working in there. They both greeted me with a warm smile.