Hollow

Eleven | Reputation

On my way from Daniel's hotel, I imagined walking inside my house, running myself a nice bath and having dinner with Luca or leaping onto my bed, settling for a good movie but none of that happened. When I walked inside my house, I was welcomed by the view of Sage sitting on my couch, looking back at me with a smile on his face.

I drop my bag on the counter and walk into the kitchen, grabbing an apple from the fruit basket. I bite into it, picturing it as Sage's heart in my mind.

Before I know it, an arm slips around my waist, turns me around and pushes me against the wall. I try pushing him away but I fail miserably as he has his hands held against mine, rendering me helpless. I struggle to keep my eyes fixed on my bag with my gun in it as I feel his warm breath across the side of my cheek, my posture stiff as he leaves a trail of kisses from my neck to my cheek, seeming to sigh contently.

"Why aren't you talking to me?" He asks, holding my chin with his thumb, tilts my head to look at me properly.

Something about him smirking at me, his hands on my body with no ounce of guilt on his face makes all of the anger I've felt for the past weeks resurface. I can practically feel my heart pick up its broken pieces.

"I want you to leave."

"What did you just say?" He mutters, a dangerous gleam in his eyes as if challenging me to defy him.

"We're done, Sage. I don't want to be with you anymore."

"What is this about?" He relies through gritted teeth. Suddenly like being this close wasn't enough, he leans in. "I don't know how many times I have to say this but I will say it again. I shouldn't have done what I did and I know you hate me for it but I'm really sorry."

I snap, pushing him away from me. "Sorry doesn't cut it out this time, Sage! You are using that poor woman and you've lied to me in the process."

I yelp as my back hits the wall again and his lips land on mine. I bite his lip drawing blood and immediately he moves away.

"What's wrong with you?" He snickers in a scary way.

I start walking toward the door to open it and wait for him to get out but he doesn't budge. "If you value your life, you are going to leave."

"You will regret this."

I chuckle bitterly. "That's pretty bold assumption."

He snorts before walking past me and getting out.

<<·>> <<·>> <<·>>

I slow down, parking my car in my usual spot and get out, heading straight to my office where I find Alex waiting for me. He hands a drink as I walk past him to my desk, dropping my bag in one of the chairs before walking out the door towards the elevators, heading toward the 5th floor to Dr. Fields' office with Alina Baraz blasting in my ears.

The elevator stops on the 8th floor and two girls step in having a deep discussion, the taller talking the other into losing weight. Once the loud girls get out on the 6th floor, I watch the other girl. She gives me a brief look, meeting my gaze before quickly looking back down.

"What's your name?" I ask, pausing my music.

She jumps at the sound of my voice. "Sophie."

"Don't let people talk you into things you don't want to do."

She nods, mumbling a thank you. I throw her a wink before turning up my music again not another word is exchanged until we reach the 5th and I step out.

Reaching my destination, I knock on Dr. Fields' door and hear a soft come in seconds later. As I enter her office, she looks up and stands from her seat, walking around her desk.

She smiles softly, gesturing for me to take a seat. "How are you doing today?"

"Good, thank you."

After a short time of peaceful silence, she finally speaks up. "Zahra, no matter how well you got through it, something must have got to you." She comments with a knowing look.

I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out

"The thing is, you can either choose to talk to me or to let it haunt you."

I quit my trance of staring at my heels and meet her gaze. "I'm scared."

"What are you scared of?"

"Losing people I care about. I've already lost so much, I don't think I can handle anything else."

She hums slightly in agreement. "I don't want to be the kind of person that tells their patient she understands their pain. I can't possibly begin to imagine how awful it must have been for you."

"Awful is an understatement." I chuckle bitterly.

"There's no guarantee you won't lose some of the people you care about."

"So what should I do?"

"Any time you find yourself scared you might lose them, focus instead on how lucky it is to have them." She lifts up her sleeve, bringing her arm closer and I notice a tattoo.

'How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye, so hard.'

"It's beautiful."

"I got this when my husband first got deployed to Afghanistan. Every time I get scared he might not make it back home, I look at it and it reassures me.

She looks at it before averting her gaze back to me. "You'll be alright, Zahra. Just remember that you are not alone and that you are braver than you know."

"Who said that?" I point to the tattoo on her wrist that is now hidden by the sleeve of her shirt again.

"Winnie the Pooh." She laughs.

I chuckle, standing up to offer her a hug. A rush of thoughts run through my mind as she wraps her arms around me. "Thank you."

She smiles brightly at me as we pull back. "My door is always open."

I offer her a last smile before turning to walk towards the door and walking out.

<<·>> <<·>> <<·>>

"I wanted to give you this the other day." River says, sliding a file toward me.

"I bet you always come here." I tease as I finish the last bit of my taco. I clean my hands with a napkin before grabbing the folder, placing it in my bag.

"What makes you say that?" He chuckles.

"For one, this place serves Mexican food, and two, it's a couple blocks from your office."

"You're very perspicacious."

"Now that I think of it, I actually don't know anything about you. I remember asking you when you trained me but you brushed me off."

"That's probably because you spent more time fucking me than actually training." He replies in a mocking tone.

"I'm serious." I retort.

River takes a sip of his glass of wine before placing his glass back down, a grin plastered on his face. "Well, I'm 34. I'm from San Diego; attended high school there then graduated from West Point then Quantico."

"Anything else that's not generic?"

"Like?"

"Do you have tattoos? Engaged? Are you seeing someone? Do you have kids?" I blurt out hurriedly.

"No. No. Maybe. No. No."

"So, do you want to go back to work or would you like to take a stroll with me?"

"Let's walk." He replies, standing up.