Adrian
The phone rings.The device vibrating against my nightstand. It will go ignored once again. I don't have the energy to deal with her. She had my whole heart and treated it as if it didn't matter.
Miranda has been calling daily since I told her to get out. The same sob story that she loves me and she’s sorry. Too bad “sorry” doesn't fix my faith in her. There isn’t anything she can do to regain my trust, and I wish she would get that through her stubborn head. She can go on and live her perfect on paper life. I’ll get over it…eventually.
All of her things are gathered in a single box next to the closet door. I haven’t had the gumption to take it to her. Maybe that’s why she’s calling, to get her things. Her voice doesn’t hold the emotion it should to want to make things work between us. But she didn’t have much stuff here. That simple fact punches me in the gut. Most couples who have been together as long as we have would have more than what can fit into one box.
A small part of me wants to hear her out. To give into my screaming heart, and let her back in. Let her have all the pieces of me, even after her betrayal. The larger, smarter, part of me says to be done with her. Not to let her get inside my head again. No matter how much it hurts without her by my side.
Hell, I would be surprised if I was only a means to an end. Another sucker in the list of guys she has made fall in love with her, only to rip them to shreds in the end. It makes sense. Why else would she choose a guy like me? Someone who’s so far beneath her social standing. Not that I think she’s better than me. It was just odd that we struck up a conversation in the coffee shop that day. She pursued me. Maybe she came to love me in the time we were together, maybe not. But she didn’t have to say yes when I asked her to marry me only to start “talking” to some other guy at her job.
Stewing over the bullshit with Miranda isn’t going to solve anything. It’s only going to piss me off more than it already has. Besides, I have a clientele that has proven to be more loyal than she has proven to be. Working at Life in Ink is my dream job, and not even Miranda can sway me to leave. I can’t help but feel like that would have been her next step in our relationship considering what she said the day everything fell apart.
Oh well. There are appointments that are waiting on me, and it’s time I get to them. Grabbing my wallet and phone off the nightstand, I walk toward the front of my apartment before pausing. A glance at the box of Miranda’s crap pushes me to pick it up off the floor. Hanging on to this stuff will only make things more difficult for me. Make it harder for me to keep my focus off of what could have been instead of what I already have. Looks like there is one stop I need to make before I go into work.
* * *
The walk from the parking garage to the building where Miranda’s office is located is brutal. It’s the last time I’ll ever step foot into this place. And, maybe the last time I’ll ever see her. If all goes well, I won’t even have to see her now. The box in my hands feels like deadweight, and I’m anxious to finally let it go. It hasn’t been that long since I broke off my engagement with her, but it also feels like it happened ages ago.
It’s funny how time flows. One moment can last a lifetime, and a series of events can pass in the blink of an eye. I don’t know where my relationship with Miranda fell. Somewhere in between, I think. I’ll move on from this, eventually. Right now, though… It still hurts.
The front of the building is solid glass, and I breathe a sigh of relief that she is nowhere in sight. That will make this a hell of a lot easier. A uniformed guard sits behind a counter when I walk in. I can’t help wondering why this building needs a guard. It’s something I never thought about before. Sure, there are other companies here, but I didn’t know they were high profile enough to warrant the need for security. Oh well, after today it’s not something I’ll have to think about again.
“What can I help you with today,” he asks before I’ve made it to the check-in desk. His eyes never leave the computer screen in front of him.
“I need this delivered to Miranda North,” I answer while setting the box on top of the counter. It makes a loud thump, and the contents clang when I release my hands.
The guard’s eyes finally pull away from the screen, and he eyes the box skeptically. “Is there a reason you don’t want to take it up yourself?” He’s staring at me like I may have put something harmful in it. Sorry sir, but I’m not that kind of guy.
“We broke up, and I’d rather not see her if I don’t have to.” Pushing the box toward him, I nod. “I can take everything out and show it’s safe if you’d like.”
The elevator dings just as the guard begins speaking, “That’s not necessary.”
He’s saying something else, but I’m not listening because Miranda’s tinkling laughter can be heard when the doors open. Shit. This is not how I imagined this going. I’d drop off the box and leave. Piece of cake. Her being down here throws a wrench in my plans.
“Thanks, man,” I mumble, trying to turn so my back is toward her. If I can just hold tight until she’s out of the building, I can make my escape.
“Adrian,” her voice is just above a whisper. “Is that you?”
Damn it. I look down trying to figure out what could have given it away. Then I see the ink covering my arms. Of course, she would recognize them. The guard gives me an apologetic look before I turn around and face the girl that broke my heart. “Um, hey Miranda,” I wave my hand awkwardly then shove it in my pocket. Why the fuck did I just wave to her?
“What are you doing here?” Her eyes are wide, and I can’t tell if she’s mad, or genuinely confused.
With the hand not in my pocket I scratch the back of my neck. “I was just dropping your things off,” I nod toward the box.
“Oh,” her whole face deflates. Did she think I came here for something else? After schooling her features into indifference, she gestures toward the guy standing beside her. “This is Clarence. And this is Adrian.”
Snorting, I pull my hand up to cover my face trying to play it off as a cough. From the scowl on her face it isn’t working. “Nice to meet you,” I hold my hand out to him. This has to be the guy she was telling me lines up with her career better than I do. She never gave me a name, but the close proximity of their bodies tells me it’s true.
He stares at my tattooed arm, then at my hand before nodding and saying, “You too.”
“Well,” I rock back on my heels. “I better go.”
“Why don’t you grab lunch with us?” Miranda asks with a flicker of hope in her eyes.
That’s going to be a big nope from me. There isn’t a universe where I’d willingly agree to go to lunch with my ex-fiancée and the person she’s seeing now. “I’ll pass,” I mutter. “I have a client that will no doubt be waiting on me soon.” It’s a tiny lie. I do have a client this afternoon, but it’s not for another two hours. I just don’t want to be in this awkward hell for longer than necessary.
“Oh, okay,” Miranda’s shoulders slump. Her need to be on friendly terms with me makes no sense. Part of me hopes it’s because she still feels something for me, and that maybe it was real. But I know better. She only wants to feel better about herself, and having me as her “friend” will do that. “I guess I’ll see you around.”