Chapter 41: Chapter 41

Frustrated as I am, I cry my all inside the cab, and scream a lot while the driver just stares at me, “What?” I hiss at him.

“I said what’s your destination?”, the driver asks, slightly upset with my attitude.

“Just keep on going and circle around the city. I’ll pay you just don’t stop driving,” I rudely say to him.

“Lady, I am running by meter, are you sure-”, the driver doubts my financial capability. I wonder if I look poor to him.

“Yes, and just so you know I am pretty damn rich, so please just drive and let me have my sentiments,” I yell at him. I look at the outside city and breathe through the window to relieve my stress.

Wasted and distressed, I didn’t notice that there were ten missed calls from a restricted number. So when it calls again, I manage to answer it. My mood is still off so I rudely take the call, “Who the hell is this?”

“Where are you, Avery?” the cold voice questions without answering mine.

“And why would I tell you when you can’t even answer mine?”, I launch my anger.

“You know who I am, now tell me where you are, I’ll come to pick you up!”, recognizing his voice, the pain goes back. So I simply say, “You don’t need to know,” and I hang up.

Frustrated and hurt, I decided to go to my favorite place, I tell the driver about my office’s address, “Change of route, Mister. To Oldswan St. corner 45 please.”

The driver nods at me and peacefully brings me to my Events For Keeps’ office. I enjoy the bright lights set by the high-rise buildings and the nightlife of Seattle. After some time, I finally arrive in one piece, I ask the driver to drop me off two blocks from here, “This is me, how much is it.”

The driver told me the amount so I use my card to pay. Maybe he finally realizes that I am capable of paying and relaxes a little bit more. I alight his taxi. Still wobbly, I take a little step in front of my office, my own business office, here in Seattle. I look for the key card inside my small pouch and press the code after inserting the key card.

When the door unlocks, I slightly open it, but two big arms push me inside my own office. My heart ponders as if I’m having a panic attack. Whoever it is, I just hope he isn’t a serial killer or a rapist. I nervously turn around to find out who. The door locks on its own. I take two steps away from the man behind me, and when I turn around, I hold my pouch tightly above my head to throw it at him and escape, but before I could even do it, I saw a familiar face, “God, Seid, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

He looks at my raised hand and pouch, “And what are you planning to do with that, Ava?” he chuckles.

“N-nothing,” I hurriedly put it down, “Well, it is better than nothing,” I protest at his statement.

“You are still the same, strong and brave, just like how I met you that night,” his eyes suddenly become sad and sentimental. So I find a way to divert the conversation. I walk inside my office and put down my pouch on the table, I open the coffee machine and put two capsules in it: a latte and an americano,

“So what are you doing here? How did you, I mean how did you know I was here?”

I get two coffee mugs and put them under the drips, and press on. The machine starts to brew the capsules.

Still standing near the door, Seid speaks up, “Well, funny thing is, a restricted number called me earlier. I thought it was one of my clients so I answered it. The funny thing is, it was Dmitri Sullivan, and he was looking for you.”

Shocked by his story, I didn’t notice that the coffees are ready, “He did what?” I shockingly say with a rising intonation higher than my head tone.

“He asked where to find you, so I gather you must be in your apartment or here. So I went here, and he went to your apartment,” he answers.

“You gave him my address? Seid, what the hell?” I complain to him.

“I’m sorry, I thought you two are going out, and besides he gave me a good deal,” he responds.

The machine notifies me for the third time that the coffee is ready. A little shock, “Oh, hey, Seid, here’s yours, americano, right?”

He walks closer to me to get the coffee and sits on the couch, “Thank you. You still know my preference,” once again, he gives a sentimental remark.

“Well, we’ve been together for a decade, after all, it is a habit I can’t seem to shake off,” I defend myself.

I sit on the couch, a little far from him. We speak at the same time,

“-So you aren’t going out together?” he asks.

“-So what did you tell Dee?” I ask.

We chuckle, and then the vibe goes a little awkward. I sigh but I first answer, and he waits patiently.

“Well, I’ll go first, no, we aren’t together. I admit I am attracted to him, but we don’t have any label,” I disappointedly say. Even though he tries to hide it, I can see that he smiles a little bit.

“Oh, I see. But I can say he’s into you, who wouldn’t? You are smart, successful, and gorgeous,” he frankly says.

So I answered him back with a little tease, “You weren’t, remember?” And then I laugh, but I laugh alone. It seems that my sarcastic joke unintentionally puts a pinch of salt in a wound.

“Oh, but it’s over now so you don’t have to worry about it,” I add.

He takes a deep sigh and gathers his strength. He gently holds my hands and looks me in the eye, “Avery,” he calls my name in a serious matter. “I-uh, I am really sorry, for everything. For trying to rape you, I-I wasn’t myself that night. I was a jerk. Please forgive me,” he cries in front of me again, and at some point, I pity him.

I hold his hand back to clear up that I have no ill-feeling against him any longer, “I know Seid. I’ve known you all my life. I know you didn’t mean it.”

“And, I am sorry for being an asshole boyfriend, I was planning everything ahead of me, and in the process, I lost that one person I’ve been meaning to spend the rest of my life with,” he squeezes my hand as if he wants to tell me more about it. He pulls me closer and hugs me tight, up to the point that even if I want to, I couldn’t be able to resist or exit his embrace. So I let him hug me for the last time, for old time’s sake. Then he whispers something to my ear, “Isn’t there a single percent of another chance for us? Can’t you love me again, Ava?”, his voice is hoarse, and his eyes are already bulging from crying.

I tap both his cheeks, and simply shake my head. This way, he understood that there’s already someone that holds my heart, and he has forever lost his chance.

He didn’t argue anymore and silently accepts the fact.

Little did I know, that the last goodbye hug with him will bring misunderstanding, later on, unaware that there is a pair of eyes fiercely watching over the two of us.