Hiding From Your Ex Doesn’t Stop You From Fantasizing About Them
Day 131 of The Andie Chronicles
Every time my eyes meet my office door, I imagine Douglas standing there with me.
Instead of pushing him away, I’m letting him press me up against it, his hands discovering every curve of my legs, my waste before seizing my underwear. And disposing of them.
He’s saluting my neck, before picking me up by the legs and walking me to my couch and ravishing me until I scream. He doesn’t stop until we’re both climaxing together. And then once we’ve caught our breath, we go again.
I had felt uncomfortable in this office since the moment I stepped into it, unfurnished and cold. Now with soft furnishings, I could only imagine them being used as orgasm vehicles.
And knowing one of the greatest lovers of my life was just next door, in the office beside me, fantasying about being in my office, was almost too much to bear.
Especially as I didn’t want him. Not him, not Douglas, not the oppressor. Not the main ruining my life. I didn’t want him, I wanted the good times with him.
Fucking breakups, right? They always have you pining for the good stuff. The sex, mainly.
Staying in my office all day wasn’t possible. I would eventually need to take a break from sketching and go to the toilet. Or seek food. Or leave for the day.
And the chances of running into Douglas were high, as well as running into one of my friends who would see me flustered and red-faced and wondered why I was in such a tizz.
At least moving past anyone in the office wouldn’t matter. I still couldn’t command anyone’s eye contact, nor would anyone speak to me.
In the kitchen when I briefly ventured out for coffee. In the bathroom when I was washing my hands next to one of the marketing girls who scuttled away the other day.
Not a hint of acknowledgement.
Am I a bad colleague? Was that the problem?
It didn’t seem like I was fitting in anywhere. At home, at 1 Lovelock Drive, it didn’t feel like home anymore. I missed my best friend, even though he was there.
My work had disappeared, I now had this shell I called an office. But like a house being a home, four walls in a city skyscraper don’t make an office.
And it wasn’t like I had a love life, a sex life, somewhere to go to feel like me. Someone to hold me to make me feel like what I thought and felt was important.
Hell, I was resorting to sexual fantasies about the man I hate to keep me feeling normal.
It was all dawning on me; I didn’t feel like I had anyone on my side, no one in my corner.
I was lonely. I am lonely. And humiliated, too.
An email went around the office inviting everyone to Friday night drinks in the second meeting room. It was from Angela, Douglas’ aging assistant. ‘Stick around for a sherry,’ it read.
This would be the perfect opportunity to show anyone hesitating about me that I wasn’t someone to run away from. But as soon as the thought crossed my mind, I pushed it away.
Better to go home, better to go back to the place I want to be as soon as possible.
And that’s what I did.
You’re reading The Andie Chronicles, the 2023 romance-fiction series from the 1 Lovelock Drive (1LD) universe.
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