Still no messages or calls from Douglas.
I had relented last night and tried to call him. I also left word with his aging assistant at his office in the city. Apparently, he hadn’t been in all week yet.
Angela, his assistant, the self-named “second-mother” to Douglas, was becoming used to my voice. And once she heard me speak, she remembered it was my birthday.
Douglas hadn’t posted anything online either. No Insta stories, no TikToks on his niece’s account. He’s ghosted the virtual world as well as his real life.
His lack of presence is being worsened by James being in my face ever since Tuesday morning. He won’t stop doing things for me, buying me little treats and talking about this supposed big Saturday night he and GG are throwing for me.
I told him today, after he presented me with two dozen helium balloons, that I wasn’t even sure I wanted to celebrate. “Don’t you think the moment has passed?”
James shook his head at me with such vigour.
“No, nope, it’s your birthday week. Sure we had a rocky start but now is not the time to forget who this time is about.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him it had nothing to do with me. It had everything to do with the people in my life trying to make it up to me.
And now that was the start of the week and we were heading straight first into the end of the week, I wasn’t interested in rehashing the disaster.
Instead of entertaining party plans, I threw myself into work. Our unisex fashion line needed a name, badly.
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