Not Some Princess ✓

20. If you consider coffee

20

If you consider coffee

There you are
There you are
You're there with open arms
There you are
There you are
And I run
—There you are
Zayn Malik

I BIT my lip and lingered for his much-awaited response in anticipation.

"But you have yearned for this since, well, since I have known you." I almost sighed in relief since there was no adverse assortment in his reply.

"Yeah, well there are a bunch of things in my life that I thought I wanted, needed rather, but apparently they are the last thing I desire for." I bit my lip.

He took a moment to assimilate my rambling.

"Well, if that's what you want then that's all that matters."

I had hoped to hear that.

Hell, that's why I had phoned him in the first place.

He had been in some kind of important meeting, or so his secretary informed me when she accepted my call. So I had called her every five minutes to ask whether it had ended yet. Eventually, after two hours, it was Raymond who picked up the call with a smile evident in his voice.

"I'll say my ego has inflated a hundredfold." He had said.

But that's the thing, despite his viewpoint, Raymond Fernsby was not an egomaniac, which was relatively common in his realm. Or if not, accordingly he preferred to be humble. A rare species. But which is even better.

I couldn't sleep the entire night and hadn't eaten something solid since Sunday. And coffee can only strive you for so long.

"Well, I was just going to get home. How about dinner?"

My stomach was playing a football match in there with the acids.

It was like he could sense hunger telepathically.

My grandma would love him.

I didn't just think that.

"Sure that's great, I'll be there in ten." I respond, my mind already setting on a teal turtle neck, a pair of my black leggings paired with my black Chelsea boots.

After hours wasted on toxic reflection, a flicker of humiliation from my previous actions and a very bad case of migraine, I had decided to go to Dr Green on Monday. Thankfully she was back. She called me in herself. Her maid had told her that a madwoman was looking for her on late Saturday night. I guess it was my fault, so I forgave her. What was not funny was that Dr Green had easily recognised who that might be. And after the session and coming back to my senses I had given rise to this decision.

And needless to say, I was very anxious about whether this was the right thing or not. Whether I had gone mental. Or was on some kind of rebel streak. A bit too late for that, honestly. This job opening was a golden opportunity for me, and they choose exceptionally particular people that I was fortunate enough to be chosen in the first place.

And now I had blown it.

They were probably laughing at me right now. Together. In their sweet office.

But apart from the anxiety from my spontaneity, there was one thing missing.

Guilt.