WHY? Series Book 1: WHY?
Autore
Kleopetra
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Capitoli
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The Worst Birthday Ever
BELLA
“I am very sorry to tell you this, Bella. We have to let you go.”
Those were the very first words uttered by my boss, Susan, today. Today I had expected to be congratulated for closing a major contract on behalf of my employer. The day I hoped for nothing but good news and kind gestures. The day that everyone looks forward to once a year, myself included.
My birthday.
“Excuse me?” I could not believe my ears. “What?”
“We have to lay you off,” she said, her voice laced with sympathy and regret. “It’s sad but unavoidable. We will be laying off half of our workforce by the end of the day.
“You know our financial position in the market. Losses are piling up, and revenues are at an all-time low. We have no option but to cut corners and reduce our salary expenses. I am so sorry.”
I was stunned. I was being fired? On my birthday? A day after closing the biggest deal of the year? Was this really happening?
“But…I—I closed the deal yesterday…” I could hardly mumble a few words in shock and disbelief.
“We are all aware of that, Bella,” Susan replied with less emotion this time. “We are all proud of you. But you know as well as I do that things are unlikely to turn around this year. Or even next year.
“That contract you signed with 99 Cents will not bring in enough cash to keep this enterprise afloat. It will be a drop in the ocean. We may have to shut shop by fall.”
“But…I can’t lose this job. I need it,” I pleaded with her, trying hard to control the tears forming in the corner of my eyes. “Can I be assigned to another department? Or to a group company? Please!”
“I wish I could offer you hope, Bella, I truly do.” Susan sounded more professional now. Her eyes narrowed further. The personal touch of empathy she began with was now replaced with hardcore professionalism.
“But the entire group has taken a heavy hit in the financial markets this spring. Reassigning someone is just not feasible at this time. Maybe a few months down the line…”
My shoulders were stiff as she wished me luck for the future. Although I didn’t know if she truly meant it. My heart pounded painfully in my throat as I stared across at her, unable to comprehend the situation I had found myself in.
I left her office in a state of dismay and disbelief. It was difficult to come to terms with this sudden twist of fate. This was the only well-paying job I could land in Athena City in months. And I lost it.
My savings were nothing much to speak of. I was unlikely to find another job anytime soon. Especially one that paid well. I would be staring at months of unemployment.
Thank God I had Simon.
Simon was the only saving grace. He was my boyfriend and had a steady income. He could support me for a while. I could live off his earnings till I landed another job, as I knew he would be happy to support me. He had always claimed to be there for me irrespective of circumstances or adversities.
I heaved a sigh of relief. Not all was lost.
I tried to smile. It was my birthday after all. And I could spend the rest of the day with Simon.
I could still make the day memorable.
Simon and I met one summer evening a year ago while I was on a shopping spree on a very limited budget. I happened to stumble onto this quaint little corner boutique, and he had talked me up.
One thing led to another, and I ended up in his embrace and in a relationship that had been going steady for the past year. He asked me to move in with him six months ago.
I passed by a corner shop bakery I had been going to since moving in with Simon, and decided to buy myself a birthday cake.
And then I bought lavender. A bunch of them. My favorite. Lavenders are not usually considered birthday flowers. However, I’d had a fresh bunch of them on each birthday as far back as I could remember.
Cake and flowers in hand, I walked briskly to the apartment I shared with Simon. I wondered how surprised he would be when he found me coming home at this time of day.
I was sure he was going to be worried about me losing my job, but with it being my birthday, he would do everything he could to make me feel better about the situation.
That was just the type of guy Simon was.
When I entered the apartment, something seemed amiss. The door was unlocked but closed. There were clothes scattered all over the living room floor. Simon was never this messy. He knew I didn’t like it when he left his clothes on the floor.
The door clicked shut behind me, and my eyes swept across the room as I juggled the flowers and cake. My breath hitched in my throat at the sight of a skirt lying among the discarded clothing.
I took a step forward. That’s not my skirt…
My pulse vibrated at the base of my throat as I tiptoed to the bedroom door without making a sound. I stood speechless in shock and horror at what I saw.
Two pairs of shoes lay strewn outside the bedroom door as if they had been kicked off in a hurry. One pair belonged to Simon. The other was a pair of stilettos.
And then I heard it. A sound I had heard before. A sound that sent a shiver racing down my spine.
The moans were repetitive and continuous, emanating from a woman’s voice at regular intervals.
What was happening?
With shaky fingers, I flung the bedroom door open.
I gasped.
The cake and flowers crashed against the floor at my feet, taking my heart with it.
I could not believe my eyes.
Simon and another woman were lying on the bed, both stark naked and covered in sweat. They were glowing with exhilaration and satisfaction that followed a torrid lovemaking session. Both shameless in their nudity, and brazen in their display of immorality.
They didn’t even bother to cover themselves up once I stepped inside.
I recognized the woman. Lily. She and Simon worked together and were always close, always whispering to each other, always touchy-feely.
I didn’t feel it to be appropriate, but he would brush it off with a dismissive smile and say, “There is nothing for you to worry about, babe. We are colleagues and good friends.”
And now these two “good friends” had just been caught sleeping together. On the bed we picked out together and had shared for the past six months. In the room we decorated together. And in the apartment we signed a lease for.
As my gaze flicked between them, desperate for answers, I didn’t notice an ounce of remorse on either of their faces.
“What the hell is going on here?” My high-pitched voice sounded foreign to my ears. “Simon, what the fuck!”
Simon looked toward the ceiling, and then to the floor. Everywhere except for my eyes. As if looking into my eyes would be a tiresome task. And Lily didn’t even bother to get up.
“Simon, I demand an answer,” I cried, clenching my fists at my side.
“Answer for what?” he shot back, running a hand through his chestnut hair. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Are you kidding?” I cried, my throat hoarse from holding back tears. “You slept with another woman on my birthday! How could you?”
Lily snickered beside him, a smirk turning up the corner of her mouth. She continued twirling a strand of red hair around her finger, not caring that my world was crumbling around me right now.
“Why are you not at work?” he asked me shamelessly, his deep blues void of regret.
“Is that why you asked her to get in bed with you? Because I am supposed to be at work now? Shame on you, you son of a…”
Unable to look Simon in the eye any longer, I ran out of the room without finishing my sentence.
Why, Simon? Why me? Why today?
Simon and Lily watched with blank faces as I collected all my stuff with tears in my eyes, packed what I could in a large suitcase, and walked out. Not once did he apologize for his infidelity or try to stop me from leaving.
To hell with him and his bimbo. I will never see their faces again.
But it didn’t change the fact I was walking away with a broken heart.
I aimlessly dragged my suitcase along the streets of Athena City for an hour. I had two things to look forward to in my life—my job and my boyfriend. And I lost both today.
On my twentieth birthday.
In the span of only a few hours, I was broke, unemployed, unloved, and homeless.
How did everything go so wrong so fast?
I sat down on the pavement by the side of the road, placed my hands behind my head, and bent forward to hide my face on my knees.
A tear escaped my eye and rolled down my cheek without consent.
Within seconds, the floodgates opened and tears started rolling down my cheeks, landing on the ground. I cried my heart out in frustration and despair.
And then I heard those words. “Don’t worry. Everything will get better. Just keep going.”
The only words of comfort I had heard all day. I did not dare look up in my state and glimpse the face of the man who had stopped in his tracks and now stood right in front of me. A man who, I could tell, had a kind heart and gentle soul. The man extended his hand toward me, holding a paper towel.
“Thank you.” I took the paper towel without looking up. Tears were gushing out of my eyes like a waterfall. It was not a pretty sight to behold, so I kept my face down.
I did notice something—a tattoo on his wrist. A flying eagle about to soar into the sky in all its glory. It was right in the middle of the wrist he had extended to me.
“So kind of you to—” Before I could finish speaking, he walked away. Leaving me behind, alone and disheartened.
I watched his feet move toward the busy intersection. They soon got lost in a sea of humans rushing by, disappearing from my sight.
I looked at my watch. It was six o’clock.
I felt the sudden urge to drown myself in booze and solitude, if only for the alcohol to numb the pain stabbing at my chest and allow me to forget everything that had happened, even just for the night.
I wanted to get shitfaced.
With my mind made up, I headed to Billy’s Tavern, a dive bar downtown. Old Billy served the lowest grade of alcohol at the lowest possible price. I was now broke and homeless, so what better place to drown my sorrows?
In no time, I had consumed more booze than I had had in my lifetime. And just when I thought I had managed to accomplish my goal of getting shitfaced, I noticed something fishy a few tables away.
A couple of heavyset guys seemed to be pouring what appeared to be a white, powder-like substance into a third man’s drink. The third guy was not around, and these two were openly spiking his drink without a care in the world.
Intrigued, I watched in silence as the third man soon walked out of the men’s washroom and proceeded to grab his drink and join his buddies. He gulped it down like a thirsty nomad, as if his life depended on it.
Should I step in and let him know that his buddies had spiked his drink? A part of me said I should. Another part asked me to look at my watch and remind myself I still had a few hours left of this terrible day. I was there to get drunk and forget the events of the day. Nothing more.
And then I noticed it. Again.
As the third man raised his hand to sip his drink, I saw it. It was so easy to recognize. After all, I had seen it earlier in the evening.
A tattoo of a flying eagle centered in the middle of his wrist.
