Elizabeth looked at her face in her bathroom mirror. She didn't see much because she wasn't feeling much at this point—She had managed to shed a few final tears earlier that day. Now, puffy eyed and her dark hair snarled into a rat's nest, she saw only a shell of a woman. If she was being honest, she had been becoming more and more hollow for a while now, but having James leave her was more than she could handle.
It was no fairytale love story, but it was her love story and it had been comfortable. Nice. Apparently comfortable and nice wasn't enough for James. She stared at her strained and unusually haggard face while she remembered what happened just two days prior in their very living room.
James had been waiting for her when she got home from work. She had been exhausted, and she was going to suggest they go pick up some take out from their favorite Thai restaurant, a comforting (there's that word again) thought. She knew something was wrong as soon as she walked inside—James was seated in his cheap desk chair. He looked apprehensive, but he also had a look of determination on his face. She was instantly wary. Something she had always been, circumspect of others, but never of James.
"We need to talk," he said, with no nervousness in his voice at all. Her heart dropped when he uttered it. No person in a relationship ever wants to hear those four little words that almost always mean: we're over. "What's wrong?" she demanded, her voice was already thick with the tears that were on their way. From there, he simply told her that he was no longer in love with her. She felt a wave of agony at that point. He told her that she had become a miserable person, her whole life was work, getting take out and whining about work. Okay, okay. She couldn't argue with that, but did their conversation have to end and begin with "I'm leaving you."? Couldn't she work on these things he didn't like about her? No, of course she couldn't. While she was so consumed in her misery about her work-life, he had met someone else that wasn't.
He walked out of their apartment with a suitcase and told her he would arrange to get the rest of his things soon and that was it. She was alone, for the first time in four years she was wholly alone. She felt like she should be angry, but more than anything she felt powerless. She really was discontented with her job. She had settled in as a Parking Enforcement Officer. That's right, she was a Meter Maid. Her big dreams of becoming an FBI agent hadn't come true yet. Yet, she kept telling herself. However, she had started to become complacent in her career and apparently also in her relationship.
Elizabeth had taken some much-needed vacation time after he left, calling into work the next day. Her boss wasn't exactly happy with her, but she had the time and she was going to take it, so she could work through those five stages of grief on her own. It had been a few days and she was currently in the depression stage. With depression came the need for comfort and her need for comfort was always soothed with her favorite foods. Now, staring at her gaunt face in the mirror, she knew what she had to do. It was time to leave the house for the first time in days so she could find her relief through food.
She couldn't be bothered with makeup, makeup probably wouldn't hide the dark circles under her eyes anyway, but she figured she probably should try to tame her wild hair. It had become unruly from her restless nights in bed and lack of showers. She took her brush and quickly tried to detangle it without much success—it was going to take much needed deep conditioning to get all the tangles out but for now it had to do. It's not like she was trying to impress, she just didn't want to be completely unpresentable.
With a heavy sigh she pulled on some jeans, pulled a slouchy knit sweatshirt over her head and threw her purse over her shoulder. She decided to walk, her favorite Thai restaurant was just ten minutes away and she needed the fresh air. Being outside instantly perked her up, if just a miniscule amount but she could tell instantly. She had been cooped up inside too long. Her heart still throbbed however, her and James would often take this short journey together hand in hand to share shrimp Pad Thai and Thai Iced Teas. She shook her head to herself, she needn't think about that now. Doing so would just make her heart ache more and start the whole grief process over again.
After a long ten minutes of thoughts, always looping back to James, she made it; thankful to be enveloped in the warm restaurant, her stomach growling at the scent of curries and all the wonderful spices that accompany Thai food. She ordered her favorite Shrimp Pad Thai and crispy tofu with a Thai Iced Tea to go. "No tea for James?" asked her usual waitress, a small Thai woman with a thick accent. A lump formed in her throat, she tried not to sound too pained "Not tonight." Liz said shakily, unable to come up with any kind of explanation that wouldn't make her sound pathetic. The waitress just nodded with a knowing expression, lips pursed, as if she could tell exactly what happened.
Liz paid for her food and slipped her credit card in her back pocket. Suddenly she felt spent. Her short journey there had already taken a toll on her. She just wanted to go home, tuck into her food and binge-watch something on Netflix. Her takeout bag in hand, she left the warm restaurant into the almost frigid evening air. A slight wind caressed her cheeks causing her to shiver against the cold and in turn she walked quickly, trying to warm up. About five blocks back toward her home she heard someone call her name. She stopped and quickly evaluated whether she could, or should, hide away from whomever called her name. She didn't want to face anyone she knew right now.
Before she could decide, he called again, in a questioning tone. "Elizabeth Keen?" he called, closer now. She didn't recognize this voice, deep and vociferous, and she turned around. It was an older man, probably two decades older than Elizabeth. He was looking at her, one eyebrow raised inquisitively, and his head cocked slightly to one side. He was holding something out to her. "I believe your credit card fell out of your pocket," he said "I wouldn't want this to get into the wrong hands." He handed it to her with a slight smirk on his face. "Oh wow," she said feeling a bit silly "Thanks a lot, you really saved me a bit of hassle."
Elizabeth turned back around and swiftly started back to her house. She was thankful for the kind stranger, but she just wanted to get home. To her surprise, the man caught up to her with no trouble and kept her pace. "Is that from the little Thai place down the street? I absolutely adore Thai food. What do you have?" He inquired. Elizabeth didn't look at him, she was a little irritated that she wasn't being left alone but if a little small talk made a lonely man happy then she supposed she could oblige for a few minutes. It would take her mind off herself at least. "Shrimp Pad Thai. It's what I always get, I'm a little scared to venture off into unknown Thai food." He chuckled at that.
"Ah, Pad Thai," he said and sighed. "I remember exploring the bustling Warorot Evening Market in Chiang Mai years ago. It had to be at least twenty years ago. I had Pad Thai, Nam Prik Ong absolutely anything I could get my hands on. The food was absolutely marvelous. Then some locals wanted to drink with me—we guzzled Mekhong for hours. I had such fun that I wasn't even angry when I woke up and realized they had robbed me blind after I passed out." he let out a boisterous laugh. Liz slowed a little bit and took a real look at him for the first time.
It seemed to Liz that he was dressed formally, not the type of man to just stop to tell a raggedy woman his traveling tales. He was wearing a light brown vest and a burgundy tie over a long-sleeved shirt with a straw fedora on his head. She was honestly a little speechless. She wasn't used to people coming up to talk to her, unless it was to tell her off about giving them a parking ticket. They were just coming up to her apartment and she tried to figure out a way to politely say goodbye. "Uh, this is me." She said lamely "Listen, thanks for walking with me and everything…"
He turned to her then and looked at her quite seriously considering how light-hearted and silly he was a few moments ago. He put his hand lightly on her shoulder, she could feel the heat of his hand under her sweater—a startling contrast to the bitterly cold air. "Lizzy," he murmured "Never be afraid to venture into out into the unknown. Never. Even if it really is just trying a new dish at a Thai restaurant." His voice was low, a bit husky. His pupils were dilated, and his blonde eyelashes shimmered from the golden lit porch light. Her heart gave a slight squeeze and she felt a few butterflies flying around in her empty stomach. He smiled at her dumbstruck expression and as intense as he was for those few moments, his expression quickly turned cheerful and easy. He gave her shoulder a slight squeeze. "I'm sure we'll run into each other again, it was a pleasure walking with you." And as quickly as he had appeared, he was walking away. It took her a moment to find her voice, but she managed to call out to him "You never told me your name!" she heard him chuckle. "Raymond." He called back without turning around. "Next time, order the Khao Soi. It's delightful." He added. Then, he was gone.