During a rare quiet moment, I make a dash to create my keycard and I collect it just before lunch. Upon returning to my desk, Kayla formally welcomes me with a tight embrace. “Oh Valencia, it’s so good to see you!”
“It’s been so long, Kayla!”
“Tell me about it! I’ve missed you! Let’s not lose touch like that again.”
Kayla is like another sister to me. We used to be inseparable. When Giulio and I began dating, I would call him at work and she would transfer me. Somehow, that made me feel less flustered about calling him. Giulio had told me I could call his cell, but calling the girls always felt more comfortable in case he was in a meeting.
Following Addilyn’s abduction and my separation from Giulio, Kayla and I spent months without talking. Last time I reached out to her, she had told me she didn’t want to make things uneasy between knowing Giulio at work and me in her personal life.
Not anymore.
I want to change that.
During these past few months, I’ve lost a lot of people due to the struggles that come with depression, people I thought I would never lose. Having Kayla as a friend again means more than she can ever imagine.
We have lunch together and talk about everything we’ve missed in the last months we didn’t see each other. It feels good knowing I can confide in her again. She tells me of how she’s still in a long-distance relationship with her boyfriend, Zac, who lives in New Zealand and how her brother has moved to Vancouver, Canada to advance in his studies in Performing Arts. I tell her how I’ve been attempting to cope during these months and how anti-depressants have been slowly helping, but that I won’t fully recover until Addilyn is back in my arms.
I’m tempted to go on further about Addilyn, wondering if Kayla shares my hope, but I derail and tell her a few stories of Oscar and Slonne which brightens the mood. I explain how I haven’t touched a paintbrush this entire time except for when I was teaching. I lack both motivation and inspiration, no matter how many times I pray for those bursts of colors to rectify me.
Lee, the new security guard welcomes us with a smile upon returning. He’s someone I looked at once and instantly knew I made the right choice.
“Back so soon?”
“Yes, it was only a quick chat!” I say.
“Good to hear,” the guard smiles. “Oh, I’ll be seeing you at 3 P.M., Mrs. Giannotti. Mr. Giannotti gave orders to accompany you to your car.”
“He did?”
Lee nods, unknowing to the fact Giulio hasn’t made any mention of this to me.
“I’ll be okay. Thank you for the consideration though.”
“Well, it’s quite okay, Mrs. Giannotti. However, I’ll still accompany you to your car.”
“Okay.” I force a tight smile. “Oh, and you can call me Valencia.”
“Of course.”
Kayla turns to me the moment we enter the elevator. “I take it you didn’t know Giulio requested Lee to do that?”
“Not at all. I appreciate the gesture, but it also makes me feel like I’m incapable of getting to my car without something happening, you know what I mean?”
“I know, babe.” She pulls me into a side hug. “But perhaps this is Giulio’s way of lifting the white flag or showing that even through all of the shit happening, he still cares.”
“Just like a picture is worth a thousand words.”
“That’s exactly it, babe.”
My intercom buzzes the moment I sit down at my desk. “Giulio?”
“Not quite, babe. Take another shot.” A thick Cockney accent stumps me.
Huh?
My eyes narrow, until I realize it must be the relatively new interior designer. “Mr. McCarson?”
“The one and only. Aye, why don’t ya com—” He gets cut off as Giulio’s voice takes over. “Valencia, please excuse him. Could you kindly bring me Tate Rogers’ architectural drawing from storage? Thank you.”
The entire storage room towards the design corner is filled with storage cabinets, each with their own compartment and label. I scan across the appointed section until I find the correct white cylinder tube.
In passing, some of the workers in the design center greet me while others are head down in their work. Their dedication impresses me. Crossing the hall to boardroom one, I stop short in front of a mirror. I tuck the tube underneath my arm and focus. Breathe. I can barely look myself in the eyes. Smile more, Zoe’s voice taunts me, you have to move on.
Adjusting my black pencil skirt and tucked-in white blouse, I tell myself I can do this without anybody else’s influence. Everybody copes differently and that’s okay. People will always talk, but I don’t care if people judge me. I can block out everybody…except Giulio.
I can’t block him out.
We were supposed to be teammates, life partners.
How does the dance go when one learns a whole different routine and the other isn’t willing to adapt? That’s exactly what our marriage is now—an unsung melody, an absent dance step, a broken record.
Peering inside the glass-walled boardroom, Giulio sits at the end of the table with six other employees on either side. A full speed in-house meeting is underway. The brightness beaming across the entire room draws a smile to my lips. You can see the Space Needle from here and on not so gloomy days he once told me Mercer Island is also possible.
I step inside without knocking to Giulio addressing his team. “Are you certain?”
“Yes,” a man responds. “It may be the only chance to advance the design.”
“Go on. What will it entail?”
“Tate wants no altercations in the west wing; that leaves only the east to compromise.”
“No possible amendments in the south wing?”
“No, I overlooked them. This is why I need some assistance, Mr. Giannotti.”
As I turn to shut the glass door, a loud
