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Wait … What?
What’s going on?
Something felt…off.
Angelo never – and I mean never – texts me unless something is seriously wrong, like a busted sculpture or some major crisis. And giving us an afternoon off? That’s practically unheard of.
We usually work on Saturdays after a big event to discuss what went right and what needs improvement since our offices are closed on Mondays. But with Angelo’s message changing our usual routine, I couldn’t help but wonder why. Was this a one-time thing or a new approach?
As I finished the last bite of my delicious olive chicken sandwich, I found myself mentally rearranging my plans. After these grueling weeks, I craved something simple: a tub of Ben & Jerry’s Peanut Butter Cup ice cream, a plate of loaded nachos from my favorite Mexican joint, and a rewatch of “The Notebook” for the hundredth time.
Funny how sadness always seemed to stir up an appetite, and today, I was downright famished.
I tossed the empty sandwich bag aside and headed up to my office to grab my computer and bag before going home. I entered the building and went straight to the elevator.
When it finally arrived at my floor, I stepped out and went straight to my office, heading to the coat rack to get my things.
But then, I noticed a small piece of paper next to my computer.
Meet me on the second floor, dorogaya.
My heart raced as I read those few words, my hands trembling. Mikhaïl was in the building, waiting for me. The words sank in, and my world felt like it was spinning.
Is it a final goodbye?
Is he planning to vanish from my life?
Millions of questions raced through my mind.
Clutching his note, I left my office and headed to the elevator, nerves tingling. I’d never set foot on the building’s second floor before, supposedly the accountants’ domain, a place I had no reason to be. So, why meet there?
In the elevator, my anxiety clung to me; each floor passing by felt like an eternity.
Finally, the doors slid open to a corridor cloaked in darkness, illuminated by scattered candles. My breath caught as I followed a trail of rose petals leading to a closed door.
I approached the door cautiously. As I grasped the handle, the soft strains of a violin and piano wafted into the air. My attention was seized by the scene before me, rendering me speechless.
The room was vast, more like a ballroom than an office. Thousands of rose petals adorned the floor, forming a breathtaking carpet with a clear path leading to Mikhaïl. He stood there, gaze fixed on me with such intensity that I felt like my legs might give way.
I took a few steps, heart pounding. The whole scene felt like a dream. He reached out for my hand when I was inches away. I hesitated, then allowed him to take it. A jolt of electricity passed between us, and my eyes welled up with tears.
The violin and piano continued their melody, playing “Love” by Lana Del Rey, my favorite song, adding to the surreal atmosphere.
I couldn’t believe he remembered that it was my favorite song.
We stood there, locked in a silent exchange of glances that conveyed everything without needing words. It was incredible how much could be conveyed through our eyes alone.
“Hi, Sofiya.”
Seeing him there, tall and confident, I couldn’t help but admire how beautiful he was.
It almost made me wonder how I’d stayed sane these past few months away from him.
Dressed all in black with a rolled-up sleeve Prada shirt revealing his sleeve tattoo, he wore matching pants and a low-hanging silver necklace.
But what struck me the most was the subtle smile on his face.
“Hey,” I breathed.
