Lori

She doesn't like me. That much I know.

And the truth is, I don't like her either.

But we're stuck with each other now, whether we like it or not. I might as well have a little fun with it.

I wander over to the corner she pointed out earlier, eyeing the space where my new desk will be. It's not ideal, but I can make it work.

It overlooks the city and I think I will like it here. I can stare outside whenever I'm bored or feeling lazy.

I pull Marcel's guest chair and flop into it spinning around lazily as I take in the room.

Marcel's got everything organized down to the last detail--her papers neatly stacked, her pens lined up perfectly, even the plants by the window are well arranged and healthy.

It's unbelievable how much she tries to control her everything. Like if she can just keep it all in order out here, then maybe the rest of her life won't feel so chaotic. But that's not how it works, and I think deep down, she knows that.

I catch her glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, probably checking to make sure I'm not touching anything.

I flash her a grin and lean back in the chair, crossing my arms behind my head.

"Guess we're going to be spending a lot of time together, huh?" I say, knowing how much she loathes the idea.

She doesn't respond; she just keeps typing away at her computer like she's tuning me out. But I know she hears every word, and it's driving her nuts.

This is going to be sweet.

My phone buzzes again. For the tenth time this morning, I flip it over on my lap, pretending the message doesn't exist.

Julian's texts aren't going to stop, I know, but I'm not ready to face them.

Not today. Not ever.

I look across the room, Marcel is completely absorbed in whatever she's doing now. Her shoulders are stiff, and after a few seconds, I catch her shooting me a sideways glance.

It's like she's waiting for me to do something, anything, that she can find irritating.

She doesn't need to wait long. My breathing annoys her already.

Marcel is like those people who think the world revolves around them. Entitled, spoiled, and acting like everyone owes her shit just because her dad is... well, her dad.

That's part of the problem, isn't it?

Her dad, Navarro took me under his wing when I started here. It wasn't my fault, but maybe that's why she's always got this attitude with me. Maybe she's insecure about it; that her Navarro sees something in me, he doesn't see in her.

But what gets me is that I've never done anything to her. Not one damn thing to deserve all the glares. But just because she is the princess she can do what she wants and that alone irritates me even more.

I spin.

Marcel snaps up at the noise, and I catch her rolling her eyes.

"You gonna say something, or just keep staring at me like I'm a new doll?" I ask.

She fixes me with that tight-lipped smile that says: I wish I could murder you right now.

"Can you try not to be a distraction?"

A loud laugh leaves my lips.

"Bite me, Marcel."

She blinks, her face hardening. "I'm serious."

I just shrug and turn back to my phone, pretending to be doing something.

Honestly, this whole setup is a joke.

She, with her perfectly organized desk, acts like she's better than everyone else. Meanwhile, I'm trying to make it through the day without losing my mind, thanks to Julian's relentless texts.

The phone buzzes again, vibrating slightly in my hands. I feel Marcel's gaze flick over to it, but I don't react. I won't give her the satisfaction.

Instead, I rub my temples.

Deep breaths, Lori.

+++

By the time I knock off work, I'm surprised I haven't thrown something at Marcel. A chair maybe.

She's been watching me like a hawk all day, her stupid glances like needles in my side. But I've kept my cool.

She's kept herself busy the whole time but I see right through her. She's so damn fake, always trying to be the good daughter, the perfect employee when really, she's just insecure.

The second I'm out of the office, I check my phone. I have a text from Zoe and a few more from Julian.

He doesn't get it, does he?

Why can't he just get over it?

I start walking, deciding not to catch a taxi. I need to clear my head, the office felt stuffy and so will the cab.

My mind wanders as I pass by the familiar streets, my thoughts jumping from work to Julian to my pending rent.

I turn a corner and find myself at the old bookstore I like.

It's quiet there, the smell of books and wood polish is instantly calming. I spend a good hour browsing, flipping through random books, reading bits of poetry, and letting my mind drift away from all the noise.

But as I head back home, there's still a funny feeling in my gut. Julian's still waiting for me to text him back.

When I reach my apartment building, I stop in my tracks, air kicked out of my lungs at the sight before me.

Sitting on the bench just outside is Julian, looking as worn out as I feel.

"Of course," I mutter under my breath.

He show's up here.

There's no avoiding him now. I shake my shoulders and walk over, my steps steady.

"Julian," I say when I'm close enough.

He stands, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Hey, Lori."

I cross my arms, keeping a distance between us. "What are you doing here?"

He looks at me, his eyes pleading, and I already know what's coming. "I just... I need to talk to you. You've been ignoring me."

"For good reason," I snap. "What is there to talk about?"

He takes a step forward, and I resist the urge to back away. "You don't get it. We were good together, Lori. We can be good again. And-" He reaches into his pocket, pulling out my black panties.

I look around, my cheeks red with embarrassment as I snatch them from him.

"Are you insane?" I lift my palm. "This was a mistake, Julian. We were both too drunk, and you know that."

He looks like I've slapped him. "You don't mean that."

"I do," I say, my voice firm. "I've been trying to avoid this all day, to avoid hurting you. But...." I trail off.

He's quiet, staring at the ground.

"I don't want to give up on us yet," he mutters, more to himself than me.

"Julian," I sigh, my voice softening at his vulnerability. "It wasn't enough. We weren't enough."

He looks up at me, visible hurt in his eyes. "So that's it?"

I nod.

Silence hangs between us, thick and uncomfortable. For a moment, I think he's going to argue, to push back, but instead, he just nods. His shoulders slump, and he shoves his hands deeper into his pockets.

"Okay," he says quietly.

I watch as he turns and walks away, his steps slow. Part of me feels relief, but another part feels... empty. Like a door is finally closing, but it's leaving behind this huge void.

I stand there for a few minutes, watching him disappear down the street. Then I turn and head upstairs to my apartment, exhausted in a way that has nothing to do with work.

Just emotions and the baggage they bring along.

-++

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