As Liv turned around with extreme grace and elegance, Amber gave her a stank look until the elevator doors returned shut. She wanted to scream from all the emotions welling up inside her.
Upon reaching the bottom floor, stepping outside the lobby, and putting the key in her car, she noticed something on the front of her wheel. The tiny little ticket flapping against her windshield caught her eye before she went to investigate further. She picked it up, her heart dropping when she read what it said. Very neatly written out was a parking ticket. She grimaced at the amount written in bold. She knew exactly what was attached to her wheel. There would be no getting out of this one today.
Could anything else go wrong that day? She checked the sky for rain, but fortunately the weather was on point today. Work was going to be long and horrible. She was just dreading everything right now. She didn’t want to talk to Charles until her heart was ready to keep from yelling everything to him at once. Instead, she whipped out her cell phone to text Melanie. To make matters worse, her battery had miraculously died. Of all the things…
She yelled a little and kicked her car’s tire. “Stupid piece of crap!” Yes there were some people who turned to stare at her. They silently shook their heads and remained on their path to wherever they were headed.
Today was probably the beginning of the worst day of her life. She just wanted to cry, yell and laugh all at the same time. She had a hard time choosing an emotion as they all welled up in the pit of her belly. So instead, she balled her fists and made her way towards the dreaded Subway, because that was her only choice at this point. She decided to wait on the crying for later. It had to come out eventually.
Chapter5
The next couple days were ridden with anger and resentment. Charles had called her a few times but she refused to pick up. He left her voice messages asking her if she was okay. Of course she was. She just didn’t want to talk to him. So she dealt with her raging emotions how she always had ever since she was little. She painted. Mermaids were her favorite. They were easy to depict emotional trauma, such as the despair of being trapped in a net amidst a storm at sea. They were sensual and erotic, which sometimes took her into a whole other world of darkness.
Melanie would drop by to check on her while she was still in town. She was crashing over at Sasha’s place, helping out with the baby and cheering up her friend. The reality of her husband’s funeral had taken its toll. She was doing better though. She had quit crying in the middle of the night but it was still a touchy subject. No one could even mention her husband’s name before she burst into tears. Quietness would steal her soul, rendering her speechless amongst the writhing pain she felt in her heart.
Even though Amber tried to compare her own situation to her friends, it didn’t seem any less troublesome. Charles didn’t have the decency to tell her he was married. Her hand gripped the paintbrush tightly, delicately stroking what would eventually become shadows of clouds. The horizon was dark and roiled in her picture, almost the mirroring the feelings she held deep inside. Many paint blotches later on her clean t-shirt, she heard a knock at the door. First it was really soft. She enjoyed playing Mozart in the background as artistic inspiration. It was hard to hear the door above the staccato symphonic. But the second time it rapped into her serene concentration, causing her to jump and drop her paintbrush.
“Great,” she muttered, hoping that the deep grey color wouldn’t permanently damage her rug.
The knock persisted as she stood up from the bar stool and skirted around the mess on the floor. She would clean it up later.
Her apartment complex had a thing against peep-holes because there were none on the doors. She had to unlock the knob and crack the door open. Charles blue eyes looked intensely at her.
Scowling at him, she voiced. “What do you want?” She had no intention of speaking to him, even though his face looked slightly hurt with the harsh tone towards him.
Instinctively he reached out a hand to hold the door open. “I want to know what’s going on with you. I’ve been calling you for days. You haven’t even bothered to answer my calls or replied. I deserve some kind of explanation.” He insisted, his eyes a complete gateway into his soul.
She took a second to consider things before shaking her head. “I don’t want to talk right now.” She replied. “It would be better if we didn’t.”
“What did I do? Just tell me!”
Charles was never a desperate man, but this woman was driving him to the point. She could tell plainly from his body language. He was using brute strength to keep the portal of their conversation open. She knew she couldn’t struggle against his grip, so she decided to wait him out.