I hadn't heard from Edward since he left yesterday. He had been ignoring my calls and my texts and I knew it was entirely my fault. Why did I have to ask him that?
Today, and for the first time in my life, I arrived late at work. It was the first time I was late anywhere! And I didn't mind. I had been crying the entire night through and fell asleep around four a.m. I woke up with my eyes red of irritation and my cheeks all swelled up. There were huge rings under my eyes but God, did I care. I couldn't eat breakfast and drinking my coffee took me longer than usual. I left about fifteen minutes later than usual and arrived in the early morning traffic. Alec had been angry with me and screamed, but I can't recall what he said, not even a minute after he left. I thought it was stupid to scream at me, though. I was never late.
I was in the cab back home, earlier than usual. I usual went back home around eight p.m. but today, I just didn't care about anything and anyone.
The cab parked in front of the central door and I took the elevator to the ninth ground, hoping not to cross Ms. Clearwater. I was not in the mood to talk.
I walked as easy as was possible with a broken leg, to my apartment with my head down. I turned the corner to reach my door but I had never been more surprised. In front of the door was Edward, holding in his hands the biggest bouquet of red roses I had ever seen. In my stomach, I felt a sting of hope. Maybe he was going to forgive me.
"I'm sorry for yesterday." We both said at the same time, causing us both to laugh.
"They are pretty." I said, pointing at the flowers.
"As pretty as you are."
"I look like shit today."
"You do." He said and smirked. He came closer to me until he was only a few inches away. "I'm sorry for yesterday." He repeated in a whisper, very close to my face.
"Me too." I said in the same whisper, although my voice trembled. He closed his eyes and came closer. It was my turn to close my eyes. He passed his arms behind my back with the flowers pressing against it. I put my arms around his head. He pressed me closer to his body and kissed me. Very gently at first, his lips puzzling into mine like they were made for each other. He continued his kiss, a bit harder this time but very enjoyable still. I opened my mouth to let his tongue enter it. I played with my lips with his.
I pressed his against the door, both still in our struggle of love. I opened the door with my eyes closed, closed to door with my broken leg and pushed him on the sofa, as difficult as it was.
But who was the girl?
Xoxo Laure.