My dear boss Zayn

Hands tied

Zayn's pov

This morning would have been perfect, it should have. Instead, I'm cooking breakfast for us and wait for her to come back to me, but she never did. She never had the chance to.

I had done everything right, I was being impatient to enjoy this moment with her. I wanted to share a little more of my life, let her see who I am. I was ready to let someone getting close to me because I need it. I need to make her happy, to make a woman happy. But that's not how it goes.

Time is going by and I already miss her. The table is set, the food is ready and the sun light brightens the whole room. Unfortunately, she would never be able to enjoy this moment with me. But I didn't know it yet.

I find myself bored, looking at silly things on TV, still waiting for her the walk in. But it didn't happen. The tick of the clock echoes in the room, and as each second passes by, it sounds louder.

1 hour...2 hours...3 hours.

And as she's not coming back, I decide to call her and dial her number, but the only thing I got to hear is an answering machine. I do it several times again, in vain. Why is it taking her so long, I mumble to myself. I look at the clock and start to lose patience.

I decide to get dressed up rapidly and put on comfy clothes. I take the keys from another car with me, driving until I'm able to reach her apartment. I'm driving fast, maybe too fast.

I try to reason myself, perhaps I'm overreacting and she's taking her time to pack her bags, but something is wrong and I can feel it. Deep down you always know when something is wrong, you just have to listen to your inner self and be honest to yourself. At that moment I wasn't ready to hear that little voice inside because it would mean that this is happening again. And I'm too afraid to face it.

I park the car without really minding it and rush into her apartment, my breath irregular. The door is already slightly opened so I push it carefully without making a sound and step in.

"Candice ?" I say hesitantly after a few seconds, but no answer.

The room is silent but the air is thick once I'm inside. Everything seems pretty much normal, nicely displayed. I frown and start to think she might found an excuse to run away from me, but I can smell her perfume in the air. She was there indeed.

Her perfume, I can smell it too well, like it is all over the place. And as I am going to the bathroom I almost stumble and fall. The flask is spilt on the ground and broken into pieces. It is like a black stain on a perfect white painting. Something happened here.

My blood runs cold and my heart rate increases little by little. She was there and I know it. I take my phone cautiously, trying to remain calm even though I know what all of this mean. Living a life like mine, things not only happen by accident but rather on purpose. My hands are shaking so much they might break the phone instantly.

"Hello."

"Angelo, it's Zayn," I'm going straight to the point as soon as he picks up, "Angelo, she's not here, she's gone."

"Zayn ? wait, what are you talking about ?"

"She's gone." I try to speak clearly but my jaw clenches.