The Wet Bedsheets.
I sat on my seat, remembering the scene he made. The slapping of her ass and their moaning sounds.
Tears rolled down my eyes, it's been a week. I stared at my phone, wishing he could call and explain why he did that.
Instead, my phone got filled with company group chat, from one deal to another.
"Hey?" I felt a tap on my shoulder, jerked, and turned only to glance at Bianca's smiling face.
"Yes?" I snarled.
"Easy, girl." Her hands lifted, with a little laughter that followed.
"What?" I hissed, turned, and got focused on my laptop. My eyes got blurry, unable to view the numbers in front of me.
"Girl, move on." My best friend, Bianca said with a soft tap and walked back to her seat. She was behind me, but a long table separated us.
I sat there, unable to peel off those wet wounds.
Brandon!
I muttered with my teeth grinding, eyes fixed on the laptop. Fingers curled into my palms until it hurt.
Maybe I deserved it.
Maybe I wasn't good enough for him.
But why me?
I thought we were perfect?
A lot of thoughts ran through my mind, until an authoritative presence walked in. Everyone suddenly paused; silence felt like no one was in.
I lifted my head with a sigh.
Oh goosshhhhh
"He was" I swallowed the lump down my throat and bit my lower lip. Sweat dripped down as my fingers became slippery and unable to move.
He walked inside the office hall; beside him was Sasha, that bitch who stood like a pawn. Her eyes fixed on him with a sexy look, but he didn't give her a chance.
He cleared his throat as everyone stood up and greeted him. I sat there, scanning his sexy carved lips, already picturing the miracles they could do on my body.
His half-opened shirt revealed those ox tattoos I had wished to rest on. He started explaining something; maybe my ears weren't functioning for that.
I don't mind being his baby mama.
Menhhh
He was so hot…
Those words slipped out, almost landing loudly. I clutched my mouth and bowed my head; a few of my colleagues noticed and turned to face me.
My fingers pitching at each other, with my sweaty eyes batting.
Lost in thought, everyone suddenly starts clapping. Their faces brightened up; even Chloe and Dave made a quick kiss.
"What's wrong with you all?" Those words felt as if they were about to be spat out, but that wasn't possible.
"Ella…" Veronica dragged my shirt a little as she smiled happily.
"Yes? Anything?" I responded promptly.
"Why aren't you happy?" She rolled her eyes at me with a sigh and pulled Bianca's seat toward us.
"Yes, what's going on?" Bianca said, her chewing gum sparking the hall with a funny sound. She rolled it and placed it back into her mouth with a laugh.
"What do you mean?" I managed to curl a fake smile. But their look wasn't pleasant.
"Your ex?" Bianca said with a serious look.
"Ummm… No, it's—"
Someone suddenly dragged me out of their view and pulled me in front of the crowd. Everyone stared with aghast looks.
"Victor, are you okay?" I barked. But instead, he faced me with a smile. That meant a lot. One thing about Victor was the ability to read through you without even knowing you.
He scanned my whole body and then at the door, where Dickson had passed through.
"Him?" he said abruptly.
"Yes," I bowed my head, feeling that shame of loving someone you knew wouldn't be anywhere near you; Two different worlds couldn't align together.
"Wake up, girl; that wouldn't happen." He scoffed, stood up, and walked back to his seat.
"The company party"
"Hurry up." I screamed my lungs out; my body lay on the dusty car beside the road, waiting for Sasha to be done with her almost ruined make-up.
She got busy, scanning her face with the car mirror.
"I'm done." She screamed. Her voice echoed through the quiet street.
"Thank goodness," I made the sign of the cross, with a laugh tugged out.
"Spare me that, pure angel," she chuckled, rushed toward me, and folded her hands with mine as we walked down the street.
The cabs were all booked; only the bus was available, but that alone could have prevented us from attending this wonderful party.
After a few meters of walking and waiting for a cab, we stepped out, and waved goodbye to the driver.
The music blazed down my ears, moving my body into quick dance moves. Bianca noticed it, smiled, and took a last glance on the outside before grabbing my hands with hers, like a new couple.
"Girl, this…" Her hands lifted as she moved them, pointing at every expensive bag and piece of clothing we saw, and wealthy people walked in.
We showed our cards and walked inside the hall. The blue bulbs moved rapidly, showing a clearer view of the inside.
A group of ladies brushed shoulders with us, scoffing.
"Cheap," one of them whispered before following her crew.
"This" I held Bianca's wrist as she tried to wriggle free, her legs up, almost picking up a fight that could end the party.
"Girl, relax." I placed her down, held her face, and patted her head, like she was a little sister to me.
She was a year older than me, but I did act as a big sister.
For an hour, Bianca kept on ranting and cursing the ladies like she had met them before.
I sat at the bar counter, with a red wine in my hand, sipping every bit of it. The bartender kept on spying at me, his eyes lingering from my eyes to my chest, like he wanted to devour me, but nah.
I wasn't a teenager. I tossed and turned to face the crowd. Everyone moved their bodies like today could be the world's end.
Bianca had already drunk enough, leaving her to mutter alone.
"Easy," I dragged the wine off her and balanced her head on my chest as she lay there, dozing off.
An hour gone, someone walked in. Bianca's fiancé, he scanned the whole place until it stopped at us.
"Here???" I waved at him. He nodded and walked over, eyes focused on her and then on me.
"Thank you. Do you mind if I?" he asked, almost pulling her off the seat, as she kept on groaned and mumbled.
"Not at all. I'm good, thank you." Even though I hated being alone in this so-called party, leaving here wouldn't be the best option.
I went back to my seat; just immediately they dashed out of the hall. Sipping my wine until the cloud took over.
A hand went across my shoulder, the scent of possession.
Immediately, I tried opening my eyes, only to meet…
"Sir?"
"Mr. Dickson?"