CHAPTER 2
Lucinda felt a stinging sensation in her eyes as she realized Des had hung up on her. She hadn't expected their conversation to escalate into a full-blown argument. The hurt and frustration she felt made her want to retreat from the world.
She spent the rest of the day indoors, hoping that Des would come to apologize and make things right between them. But as the hours ticked by, there was only silence.
As night began to fall, Lucinda's hopes began to dwindle. She tried to distract herself with TV and books, but nothing seemed to take her mind off the argument.
As she lay in bed, Lucinda couldn't shake off the feeling of sadness and rejection. She had expected Des to be more understanding, more supportive. But instead, he had chosen to walk away.
The hours ticked by slowly, and Lucinda found herself wide awake, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't sleep, her mind racing with thoughts of the argument and the silence that had followed.
As the first light of dawn began to creep into her room, Lucinda finally drifted off into a fitful sleep, exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the previous day.
Lucinda woke up to a dull, throbbing ache in her head. She winced, clutching her temples as the early morning light poured through the thin curtains of her bedroom. Her body felt heavy, like she had been carrying the weight of her emotions through the night.
Her hand instinctively reached for her phone on the bedside table. She wanted to see his name—Des. The thought of him usually brought her some comfort, but today, the familiar ache
in her heart overshadowed everything else.
She scrolled through their old chats, her finger hovering over the voice notes he'd sent her weeks ago. Those messages always made her feel close to him, as though he were right there, whispering reassurances. But today, even those felt like they belonged to someone else's life.
Lucinda sighed, her chest tightening. She dialed his number, the ringing tone stretching on endlessly before going to voicemail. It felt like a slap. She considered calling again but didn't. Instead, she dropped the phone on the bed and curled up, hugging her knees to her chest.
Maybe he's busy, she thought, but the doubt had already started seeping in. He used to answer within seconds, no matter what he was doing.
The day dragged on, slow and heavy, like time itself had decided to conspire against her. She stayed indoors, the world outside feeling too loud, too overwhelming. She didn't bother with breakfast or lunch, only sipping water occasionally.
Her phone buzzed once, and her heart leapt, but it was just an app notification. Nothing from him.
By evening, she sat on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. She didn't even know what was playing. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying every conversation, every smile, every promise Des had made. She wanted him to come through the door, to call and say, I'm here, Lucy. But he didn't.
When night fell, her restlessness deepened. She paced the small apartment, glancing at her phone every few minutes. Still nothing.
Her head throbbed again, and she leaned against the wall, sliding down until she was sitting on the cold floor. She felt tears sting her eyes, but she wiped them away quickly. She didn't want to cry over this—not again.
The hours passed, and the city outside grew quiet. The faint hum of passing cars was the only sound keeping her company. Lucinda stayed awake into the night, staring at the ceiling, her mind a chaotic swirl of emotions.
Des didn't come.
He didn't call.
She had waited long enough, hoping Des would call, hoping he'd show up like he always did, but he hadn't. The emptiness that had settled in her chest was unbearable, and sitting alone in her apartment wasn't helping.
With a deep breath, she grabbed her coat and her keys. She didn't even bother to fix her hair or put on makeup. She just needed to see him, to know what was going on.
The short walk to his apartment felt like a journey through quicksand. Each step felt heavier than the last, and her mind buzzed with questions. What if he didn't want to see her? What if something had changed?
When she finally stood outside his door, she hesitated. Her hand hovered over the doorbell, her heart pounding in her chest. But before she could second-guess herself, she pressed it.
A few moments later, the door swung open, and there he was—Des.
"Lucy!" he exclaimed, his face lighting up with that familiar grin. He looked relaxed, dressed in a casual hoodie and sweatpants, as if he hadn't a care in the world.
Lucinda's words caught in her throat. She had imagined this moment in so many ways—him apologizing, him explaining why he hadn't called—but none of those scenarios prepared her for what came next.
He laughed.
"Looks like I win," he said, leaning casually against the doorframe.
She blinked, confused. "Win? What are you talking about?"
"You came first," he said, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "I was waiting to see who would crack first—me calling you or you showing up. Guess I don't owe you dinner after all."
Lucinda stared at him, the weight of the past 24 hours crashing into her all at once. He was playing a game. While she had spent the night sleepless, consumed with worry, he had been treating it like some kind of competition.
For a moment, she felt nothing—just a strange, empty numbness. Then, a faint flicker of relief washed over her. He wasn't upset with her. He wasn't pulling away. He was just being Des—playful, a little thoughtless, but hers.
"You… you were waiting to see who would crack first?" she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.
"Yup," he said, still grinning. "And I knew you'd come. You hate losing."
Lucinda let out a shaky laugh, more out of disbelief than humor. She wanted to be mad at him, to tell him how much his silence had hurt, but the sight of him standing there, so carefree and so familiar, made it hard to hold onto her anger.
"Well, congratulations," she said, stepping inside. "You win."
Des closed the door behind her, his expression softening. "Hey, don't be mad. I missed you too, you know."
She looked at him, her emotions still tangled, but there was no denying the small spark of happiness she felt just being near him again.
"Next time," she said quietly, "don't make me wait so long."
Des nodded, pulling her into a hug. "Deal."
And just like that, the heaviness in her chest lifted, replaced by the quiet comfort of knowing she hadn't lost him. Maybe he could be frustrating, and maybe he didn't always handle things the way she wished he would, but he was
still her Des.
For now, that was enough.