I woke up the next morning, immediately feeling disgusted at how dirty and sticky my body felt. This was the first time Christopher hadn’t helped clean me up. I sleepily reached out for him, my heart lurching when my hand touched cold, empty sheets instead.
Shouldn’t communication be key to solving any problem? This was not going to work out if Christopher was so adamant about not talking to me and hearing me out.
I perked up upon hearing sounds of water rushing coming from the bathroom. Pushing myself out of bed, I went to the closet and dug out the outfit I’d bought for him last time, setting it out on a chair for him. He’d always treasured this outfit and had only worn it once when we went out on a date.
I quickly turned around with a bright smile when I heard the door opening. “I picked out your clothes for you. Will you be coming home early tonight?”
Christopher gave me a sidelong glance, a towel wrapped around his waist as he took out another set of clothes from the closet to change into. He swiftly got dressed and made to leave.
“I won’t be coming home for a few days.”
Panic flooded me, and I stood there motionless for a while. When I eventually snapped out of my daze and ran out after him, all I could see was the elevator doors slowly closing, barely providing me a glimpse of Christopher standing there with his head hung.
The doors suddenly slid open again, and I brightened as I stepped closer to the elevator, thinking that Christopher had changed his mind. To my chagrin, a middle-aged woman also standing inside had her finger on the button instead. “Come on in then, missy. I have somewhere to be.”
I looked at Christopher, who was staring at the floor. In the end, I couldn’t muster up the courage to get into the elevator, turning on my heel and walking away from him instead.
When I stepped back into my home, the sight of the large, empty room made me rethink my decision. Why didn’t I get into that elevator? Why didn’t I try harder to explain myself to Christopher? We wouldn’t be having this cold war otherwise!
This house had been a gift from Christopher, who had bought it secretly using my identification documents. Whenever I found myself in danger, he was the one who lent me a helping hand. Why am I fighting with him like this…
When I reached my workplace the next day, my colleague Mave was in the midst of organizing documents and files. She was a hardworking and serious young woman who always helped me out whenever I ran into difficulties at work.
She gave me a cheerful smile when she spotted me walking in with breakfast. “That looks delicious! Can I have a taste?”
“You can have all of it,” I replied, handing her the bag. “I’m not hungry.”
“Really? Thank you so much!” Mave happily gobbled up the food, finishing it all. She then leaned in to ask in a small voice, “Eve, are you actually some kind of heiress from a rich family who’s just here for some fun?”
“Why do you say so?” I laughed, shaking my head. Sure, I was a lady of the Tanner family and had a higher social standing than the rest of the employees here, but that didn’t mean anything.
“I saw you get onto a super expensive car a few days ago, and someone even helped open the door for you,” was Mave’s reply, her eyes wide with curiosity. “I asked my boyfriend, and he said that the car costs millions!”
She must have spotted Christopher coming to pick me up from work. Should I be grateful that she didn’t jump to conclusions and automatically think I was some rich businessman’s sugar baby or something? I pulled out my phone, thinking about calling Christopher, but put it down after having second thoughts.
I later went out for lunch at noontime. I was busy crossing the road when I saw Christopher standing amongst a crowd of bodyguards. He stood tall and proud, his chin raised high in the air as he and his entourage walked in my direction.
We brushed past each other on the zebra crossing, but he didn’t bother to even spare me a glance, acting as if we were complete strangers. I stopped in my tracks, instantly feeling my eyes grow wet with tears.
Has he grown tired of me?
