I stare at Greyson. He looks a bit taller. His shoulders are broader. He has a scruffy beard that makes him look more attractive than I have ever seen him. He is wearing a dark grey suit that is tailor made for him. The oxblood-coloured tie he is wearing also suits him perfectly.
He his well-built. He looks really good. I take two steps towards him.
"Greyson" My voice fails me. It comes out as a whisper filled with all the longing of the last ten years. Betrayed by y own voice. My heart aches deeply. It feels like it is tearing holes in my chest. Something this painful must most certainly be bleeding.
Greyson stares at me. A whirlwind of emotion crosses his face. I look on as one emotion replaces another, and another. I smile sweetly at him and take another step closer. He smells so good.
"Greyson" My voice is steadier now. I place my palm on his chest and can feel his heartbeat drumming through his shirt. I desperately want to put my arms around him and cling to him and cry out everything that happened to me in the last ten years.
The last emotion that settles into place on Greyson's beautiful face is anger. He is furious.
He wraps his large warm hand around my thin fragile looking wrist. His mouth has set into a thin line. His eyes are cold and glaring. He removes my hand from his chest and practically throws it back to me.
"What are you doing here Elrissa?" His voice is much deeper than it used to be. It trembles to my core. Greyson always had a way to speak right to my soul. He used my full name, an indication that we are no more than acquaintances. The memories of him leaving me on the last day of school flashes back to me. His mother luring me to Paris to leave me there with no means to get home. That's right. He chose not to be more than acquaintances a long time ago.
I pull myself together and set my shoulders straight. I need to keep myself together for tonight. I can fall apart later.
"I was acquired for the evening by your friend, apparently" I look Greyson in the eyes as I answer him. He has a look of disgust in his eyes.
"A whore? You wanted to be a lawyer! I helped you apply to all the best universities. You were placed top of your year!" Greyson turns his back and runs his hands through his thick mane of hair.
He turns back to me. His eyes blazing brighter with more fury.
"Your accommodation was set for the entire year to follow. You already had all your books." He shakes his head. He sounds out of breath with anger. "You just needed to show up!"
I stare at Greyson. I can feel the blood drain from my face. Greyson's anger does not make sense to me. You cannot be angry and feel nothing for a person. Anger is an emotion reserved for someone who you feel something for.
He swears under his breath.
"You chose this life over me. We had a bright future. We were going to be amazing." The sadness is back in his eyes. "My mother was right about you. You are just a whore."
He turns and leaves the room and pulls the door closed behind him.
I am shocked to my core. I did not choose this. I did not choose any of this. I sit on the bed, unwilling to leave the room and face Perry or any of his other awful guests.
I feel filthy. A whore.
...…
It was the longest trip on the boat. I'm sure it didn't really last longer than usual but it feels like I sat in that room for what felt like forever.
I walk through the doors of the clubhouse and rush to the car waiting for me. I get in before the driver can get out to open the door for me. He looks at me in surprise but turns forward and drives me to my apartment building in silence.
When he pulls the car into the parking in front of the door I get out before he can come to open the door for me again and rush into the building. I just want to get into my apartment and shut the world out behind me.
I take the elevator to the sixth floor of the building and make my way to my apartment as quick as possible. I fumble for my keys and unlock the door, when I step inside the apartment doesn't feel as welcoming as I expected. I close the door and lean my back against it. Tears start running down my cheeks. As I slide to the ground a sob escapes me. I haven't cried in ten years. Everything I had to cry about in the last ten years draws to the surface. I cry for the life I never had.
...
As I step out of the shower, I am confronted with the sight of myself in the full-length mirror. I have always had a great body but today my face looks puffy. I drink two strong pain pills from my medicine cabinet. My eyes are swollen almost completely shut. It is painful to the touch. My nose is very red and my lips look a little swollen. I have been self-soothing since I made it home in one piece. I smile at the notion of self-soothing. To other people it would be to rock oneself or to meditate. To me, self-soothing is drinking my very expensive pink gin.
I pick up the glass from the bathroom counter and swirl it around twice. Listening to the ice clink in the glass. I drink the contents of the glass and walk back to the small bar in my apartment to refill my drink.
I leave the drink on the bar counter and walk to my large, exceptionally stocked, walk in closet. The dresses and coats hanging in the closet cost a fortune. The nearly hundred pairs of shoes in the shoe rack that almost fills an entire wall, are all designer and also very expensive. I walk the few steps to the back of the closet. My eyes drifting over the dresses hanging on the one side of the small walkway. Some of the dresses have never been worn. They were either gifts or items I absolutely had to have when walking by my favourite exclusive boutique.
At the back of the wardrobe, I take down a very old box I have ignored for almost a decade. The large brown box with no writing on feels dusty in my hand. I look at the large white sticker on the side of the box. The writing has started to fade but the name of the delivery company is still readable on it.
I take my drink and sit at the foot of the bed on the lush cream carpet. I can hear my phone buzzing on my bedside table. I have silenced it but have not put the vibration setting off. It has been buzzing all day. I know I had a client that wanted to take me to the Bahamas on a two-week holiday today but I cannot care less what he does there without me. I only have six clients. They take up all of my time. Sometimes I only see them every third month.
I finish my drink and open the box next to me. I have put everything that I wanted to forget into this box. I get up to refill my drink and decide it would be easier to just bring the bottle to my little box party at the foot of my bed.
The first thing I take out of the box is my acceptance letter to the university where I was supposed to get my law degree. I read it through and feel the loss of it settle in my chest. I fill my glass with pink gin and take a large gulp of the liquid. The burn runs into my body and it feels like the hole in my chest pains less for it.
I reach into the box and take out a thin contract I signed as a witness in my final year at high school. Greyson's signature is on the document as the main signatory. I read through the lease agreement of the small comfortable apartment Greyson chose for me during our final year. He wanted me to have the least things to worry about so I can fully focus on my studies.
I look at the remaining documents in the box and finish my drink in my hand.
"My box of failures" I mutter to myself. My voice is hoarse and unbecoming.
I fill the glass to the brim as the tears start rolling down my cheeks again. I try to keep myself from sobbing as I finish the contents of my glass. I put the glass down and take the bottle in my hand. My tears drip on the lease agreement and I set it aside with the acceptance letter to the university.
I reach in for a small folded note. The paper was pink when I first received the note. It has gone dull over the years. I read the note that Greyson's mother sent me with the box of doom the day she lured me to Paris. I drink from the bottle as I read the note.
I put the empty bottle down next to me. I lay back against the bed. My head feels heavy and tired. I roll to my side and slide to the ground. Through my blurry vision I can see the writing on the sticker on the box.
Recipient: Elrissa Glower
I should have known it wasn't Greyson who sent this gift ten years ago.
I hear the buzz of the phone on my bedside table go on and on and on and on as I drift off into a deep sleep.