Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
July
Theo is gone when I wake up.
Before I even sit up in bed, I’m hit by a sense of betrayal.
It’s probably an extreme reaction on my part. He had every right to leave, right? This is probably standard protocol and I’m just not aware of the ins and outs. Man goes home with woman. They have a mutually satisfying experience and then it’s over. No need for breakfast or cuddling or coming up with a plan to spend time together again. Maybe he doesn’t want that. Maybe he wasn’t satisfied.
I feel hollow as I settle my feet on the bedroom floor and cross to the closet, unhooking my robe from the knob and putting it on. Padding out to the kitchen, I catch his aftershave and metal scent lingering in the air, heat pushing in behind my eyes.
There’s a note on the table.
It simply says I’m sorry.
Sorry about what? The fact that this thing between us isn’t going to work out?
My legs turn to soup, and I drop into one of my kitchen chairs, looking back at the couch over my shoulder. Seeing us there. Me on my back with my legs open, him licking and snarling me to an orgasm. Only the second one I’d ever experienced. He’d given me my first one minutes before, without even touching me. Just by being so beautifully raw.
Did I…overestimate the importance of us?
Was this a normal encounter between consenting adults and we’ve already reached the conclusion?
The note drifts down from my numb fingers to the floor and I stand, wobbling a moment and swiping at my damp eyes, before sailing to the bathroom and shutting myself inside. Taking the hottest shower I can stand and trying to do the impossible.
Not think about him.
Not think about his breath on my neck, how possessively he touched my hips.
Lock me up. As long as you’re locked in with me.
Words he said to me on the train.
Was I naïve to believe any of this was real?
I’ve never felt more vulnerable and lonelier as I do when getting dressed for work. I’m distracted, so I don’t pay close attention to what I’m wearing, only becoming aware of the flaws of my decisions when I reach the office.
“Wow,” says Dierdre when I pass by her desk on the way to mine. “Leave it to July to save her best outfit for the day after her blind date.”
Confused, I look down at my white mini skirt, a black silk blouse tucked into the waistband. Technically, I’m not dressed inappropriately for the workplace, but it’s right there on the borderline. My pointed flats are saving me from going full office vixen and getting a phone call from human resources. “Oh, um…” I push up my glasses. “I slept too late and got dressed in the dark this morning. That’ll teach me to rush.”
She purses her lips at me. “That’s not like you. Being out of your routine and all.”
“No?” I turn on a heel, shrugging on my way to the other side of the office. “Maybe I’m turning over a new, irresponsible leaf.”
Dierdre snorts in my wake. “So it would appear, after sitting down at the wrong table yesterday. And continuing the date, regardless!”
I keep walking, the hollow feeling settling back into my middle. I resolve to focus on work for the next eight hours, because hello, I have a huge presentation on Friday and it’s happening whether or not my heart feels broken. So yes, I dive in, outlining concepts and doing market research while the office buzzes around me, skipping lunch, like I usually do. It’s not until four o’clock rolls around that I realize I’ve been staring at my screen for seven straight hours. At least I have a lot of work done to show for it.
Not that any amount of work is going to help me with my public speaking.
Theo was going to do that.
“Earth to July,” Dierdre says, waving a hand in front of my face. “Are you with me? I asked if you want to kick off early for happy hour? Vikander is buying.”
“Vikander? As in, our boss? She is letting us leave early to go drinking?”
“I think she’s having a shit week,” Dierdre whispers. “Maybe she wants to drown her sorrows. Or she’s taking us all down with her. At least we’ll be drunk!”
I eye the door to my boss’s office skeptically. “I think I’ll stay here.”
“Come on,” Dierdre whines, shaking my chair. “For once, you’re not dressed like a Sunday school teacher. Take advantage of the dirty librarian look.”
“Dirty librarian,” I snort. Except she’s kind of right. How did I leave my apartment with this much leg showing? “All the more reason to go home,” I mutter, tugging down the hem. That being said, I’m not sure I want to go home. That stupid note is still on my floor. Theo’s scent is everywhere, as are the memories of our single night together. I’m going to go home and dwell, aren’t I?