Five years have passed since Dante left my apartment. I haven't seen him since then. I confess I had his number, but I didn't want to reach out. My heart was too hurt to talk or forgive him. I focused on my studies, graduated from college, stayed out of the media, and most importantly, shifted my entire focus away from Dante.
Yes, I graduated in Business Administration, and worked in a few companies in the field, in Human Resources, Finance, Endomarketing, and even in Collections. I confess I did well in all areas, but I hadn't found myself. I've always enjoyed writing a lot, and creating stories, I excelled in essays, text interpretation, and even in the academic assignments I did. That's when I had a brilliant idea: why not become a writer? Yep, I got really excited, started with blogs, writing for newspapers and websites, and eventually built my small portfolio with two years of experience. Usually, the audience liked the way I wrote, I love romantic comedies, and that really resonated with the romantics out there.
That's when the opportunity to co-write a book with a renowned publisher from the region came up. They contacted me after reading excerpts from romantic stories I had published in the city's newspaper.
A day before the interview, I received a call from an unknown number, and I decided to answer, thinking it might be from the newspaper I had partnered with.
— Hello. — I answered.
— Miss Kyra? — asked a female voice from the other side of the line.
— Yes, who's this?
— This is Stefany from Vadema Publishing, is everything alright?
I was so startled that I almost threw my phone up in the air.
"Gosh! One of the biggest publishers in the region is calling me, am I dreaming?" I thought.
I composed myself, took a breath, and spoke naturally:
— Everything's fine, Stefany, and how about you?
— That's great, Miss Kyra! I'm well too, thank you for asking. We're getting in touch to see if you'd like to participate in an interview because we're selecting new writers for the romantic comedy section. We read your column in the city's newspaper and liked the way you write.
— I'm in. — I was jumping for joy inside my apartment.
— That's great! Could you come to the headquarters tomorrow at 10 AM?
— Yes, I'll be there.
— Perfect! I'll send you the location via message. See you tomorrow and good luck!
— Thank you!
She hung up, I turned up the music and danced in my apartment for 30 minutes with so much joy. I spent the rest of the day finalizing some texts I had, preparing the materials to bring to the interview, and choosing the outfit I'd wear the next morning.
Now, going back to the first explanation I gave you, dear reader, in case I'm reiterating:
Have you ever woken up with the feeling that something strange is going to happen? Like déjà vu?
Well, that was the feeling I, Kyra, had when I woke up. I'm not entirely sure what my sixth sense has in store for me, but deep down, I sense trouble.
I decided to jump out of bed and check what I had planned for the day. Seriously, I really need to use a scheduling app on my phone to remember my commitments.
I was startled when I looked at my schedule and realized I had an hour to get to an interview.
"Damn it!" I rushed to grab some cookies while simultaneously picking out my interview outfit (let me tell you, multitasking two things at once never works that well for me).
After putting on the outfit, I rushed to the bathroom to brush my teeth and apply some foundation. Amazingly, it took me 20 minutes to get ready. I called a taxi through the app and left my apartment to wait.
Now that I've explained everything to you, dear reader, about my past, I can calmly head to the job interview that I'm quite excited about.
I got into the taxi, gave the driver the company's address, and started observing the scenery. The taxi stopped with 5 minutes left until the interview. I paid the fare, got out, walked hastily, and entered the reception area. The entrance hall was immense, all decorated in wooden tones, with modern furniture, comfortable pastel-colored armchairs, and literature paintings framed in gold completing the decoration.
I walked up to the reception desk, where there were two receptionists, Carol and Janine.
— Good morning, ladies! How are you? — I greeted them.
— Hello! Good morning. — Both of them said at the same time.
— How can I assist you? — Carol said.
— I have an interview for the writer position, at 10 AM.
— You can wait over there in the armchairs. I'll call you shortly.
— Perfect. — I walked over to the armchairs and sat down.
I was genuinely excited, but I didn't let it show. I still had that strange feeling from when I woke up, like something was going to happen— something I wouldn't like. I shook my head from side to side to dispel the negative thoughts; after all, I didn't want to dwell on that.
I stood there, sitting, waiting for 30 minutes. I was a bit anxious, but it didn't really bother me. If I needed to wait, I would wait for as long as necessary. This was my dream, and I wouldn't give up, no matter what happened. While waiting, I decided to check my messages. Initially, there was no sign of a fire — just a few messages from Lucy. Yes, we stayed in touch all these years — me, her, and João. Both of them were married. Do you remember the night we went out to the nightclub? Well, both of them met their husbands that night! Yes, Lucy and Nick, and João and Daniel. Oh, how love is beautiful. I smiled as I remembered.
Nick was the one who struggled the most to win over Lucy. She was so angry with Dante that she took it out on Nick and made things difficult for him. But because she was like that, she won his heart. João and Daniel's story was romantic and turbulent at the same time. The important thing is that everything turned out fine in the end.
That's when I looked up and saw a silhouette that sent shivers down my spine. I had multiple heart palpitations, and even butterflies in my stomach. The silhouette looked so much like Dante, but I couldn't see the face.
"Calm down, Kyra. You must have mistaken something! It can't be him, especially since it's been 5 years, and you should have forgotten him by now!" I told myself, trying to convince myself that I had seen things that were products of my imagination.
— Miss Kyra. — Carol spoke.
I blinked twice to snap out of the trance I was in.
— Miss Kyra, could you please come with me? — She said.
— Yes, of course. — I got up and followed Carol down the corridor.
The corridor was beautiful, with portraits of writers I loved, and hand-drawn books beautifully framed in gold. As I walked, I admired the place until Carol stopped in front of a double oak door.
— You can go in. Please wait; Editor Trish will conduct your interview.
— Thank you very much, Carol. — I said, entering the room.
— You're welcome. Good luck! — Carol smiled at me and closed the door.
"Well... I hope everything goes well for me."