Take My Hand

Fool Me Once, Shame On You

The harsh winds of London kept attempting to knock me off of my feet, tossing me around in the eerily dark streets.

My red glossy heels tapped against the concrete ground as I made my way towards the towering, glass building where Bensen worked.

I couldn't help but let a smile crawl along my rosy lips at the mere thought of him and his grey cloudy eyes, perfectly curled hair, and even the rough stubble spread unevenly across his cheeks. It had already been a year since we were had gotten married and it was still everything I would of wished for.

"Hello, Mrs Diaz"

The receptionist greeted me with a signature work smile, I silently returned the favour as I stepped into the enclosed metal elevator. I was immediately surrounded by low playing jazz music until I reached the tenth floor.

"Good to see you again, Mrs Diaz"

I spun around in my place to see a younger woman with faded brown bouncy hair. I didn't actually recognise her at all, not her voice or her physique. I slyly glanced down at the ID hung around her neck. Eloise Wallaby.

"Oh, hello there Mrs Wallaby, long time no speak"

I laughed, talking to her like we were old pals. She straightened out her creased lilac pencil skirt before holding out her hand and wrapping me into a hug that lasted longer than I was comfortable with.

"Too long my dear"

My eyes flicked over the open tote bag hung carelessly around her shoulder. There was an open bottle of prescribed flu medicine labeled 'Tate Wallaby'.

"So, how's Tate doing? Still got that nasty flu?"

She pushed me out of the hug as she shook her head. I pretended to seem concerned, to feel sorry for the Tate I didn't remember.

"He's doing much better. Can't say the same for Annie though"

I nodded, biting down on my lip. There was an awkward silence between us that felt like an eternity. I couldn't even remember the woman, what else was there to talk about?

"Well, I hope she gets well soon Wallaby, take care"

I shouted, avoiding the rest of the dull repetitive conversation. It's always the same with office people, hi, how are you and the kids? Still going to that middle age yoga class? Enjoying that messy divorce?

"I'm here to see Mr Diaz"

I smiled, flashing my ID to the large security guard at the door to my husbands room. He barely skimmed over the details before nodding me in.

"Bensen? I know you tell me not to come to your workplace but it's our anniversary"

I shouted, flinging my bag onto the black leather couch. I walked slowly through the rooms of his office, searching for him. I slid my piano black jacket off of my shoulders and folded it on top of the marble table. Yet, there was no sign of him anywhere.

"Bensen?"

I called again. There were no words, only muffled groaning sound from the small computer room. I tiptoed towards the door, latching my hand around the silver plated door handle.

Anxious and scared, I began to twist it, finally forcing open the white wooden door only to find-

"Bensen!"

"Crap! Harper! I swear, it's not what it looks like!"