How Do You Frustrate Your Ex? Fall Into His Arms? Or Undermine His Authority?
Day 121 of The Andie Chronicles
“You’re going to have to stand back folks.”
I didn’t realise the iconic Melbourne building, 101 Collins, had so many security guards until the lifts ceased moving.
Entitled office workers advanced through the foyer like confused ants. I became caught up in the vortex of impolite pushing to the two lifts still functioning.
It was a like being amongst savages, all willing to sacrifice each other in order to get to work faster.
I pitied the masses. Well, I couldn’t understand their panic. I was in zero hurry to return to my torture chamber, otherwise known as my office, and I couldn’t imagine why anyone else would want to hurry to theirs.
I knew this was a juvenile thought.
People did love working for the man, working in these big towers. Not everyone wanted to be like me, in my makeshift office, with my big ideas and a will to get it right.
Letting a few desperate faces into the lift before me, I finally found a free spot and was moving slowly towards the top floor.
As the door opened into the office foyer, I noticed Douglas standing there, holding a file in one hand and squeezing his hip with the other. I stepped out, hoping to move past him without conversing.
It was the first time I had seen him since sharing this place with my ex. If I hadn’t seen him, I would have smelt him. Doused in his familiar earthy, wooded cologne, I could still taste his skin on my lips.
And as I attempted to suppress the memory of his body against mine, I felt the warmth of his arm present itself in front of me. My chest collided with it, my arms clutching onto the wool sleeve, saving myself from falling.
I didn’t recognise the suit, but I knew it would have been one from Harrolds. He had an account there. It was probably Tom Ford or a designer like that.
I stumbled back and out of his grip. If I held onto his body any longer, I would feel the muscles that would hold my naked body up against his.
I would be reminded of how we would spend an entire night pressed up to the side of his ensuite spa bath, the size of a plunge pool, our bodies colliding together.
There was no way I could let myself remember that.
Douglas threw down the papers he was holding and folded his arms across his chest. He puffed out his chest, a pose that didn’t suit him.
“What fucking time do you call this?”
He wasn’t joking. I hadn’t looked at the time, either. I had no idea how late I was.
“The lifts were out.” My response was calm; it wasn’t an excuse. In my mind, I didn’t need to explain myself.
“Everyone else managed to get here on time.” I could hear the whispers of the office humming along.
“Good for them,” I replied. “Do they get a medal?”
Despite my facade, I felt the tears well in my eyes, yesterday’s downpour ready to recommence. “Get the hell out of my sight. And never be later again.”
As I took each step away from him, I couldn’t reconcile how I ever felt like I might love him.
I hated him so much.
I hated this situation so much.
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