The Wait

The echoes from the rattling of Ms. Andrea's vintage typewriter are the only sounds breaking the silence of the workstation. Ms. Andrea, her youthful face, framed by oversized glasses, held an innocence at odds with her cascading brown curls reaching her hips. Back in college, she would have been the campus sweetheart. Yet, she had chosen work over academia.

However, Ms. Andrea isn't the subject.

An hour toward the end of office hours stretched before Elena like an eternity.

The incessant clack-clack of the typewriter was a relentless drumbeat in Elena's ears, making concentration on the paperwork spread across her dark grey desk impossible. Cluttered with freshly developed photos and her idle doodles, her desk was a mess, with faint scratching sounds accompanying her restless scribbles.

She couldn’t find Theo’s image among the photos she took that day.

Theo—her yearning to see him again, even just once, had turned into a desperate ache. The expectation of him suddenly appearing in front of her for the past few days seems like a hopeless, crazy idea by now.

Despair was the only word to describe her feelings. Theo had replaced the dark shadow of Tony in her heart, yet now he was the source of her pain.

Blinking back tears that threatened to spill, she quickly wiped away the little tear drops from the corner of her eyes, begging herself to not cry at this very office.

Tracing the scar on her shin beneath her clothing, she struggled to return to that day with her eyes closed, piecing together every vivid detail of Theo’s appearance, his warm smile, and his voice from their brief encounter.

She wanted to memorise every part of him, every detail etched into memory.

The puncture wound from the spear incident had faded to a barely visible scar, a physical reminder of a day that seemed to blur between reality and nightmare.

Yet, the memory of the intense pain and the extraordinary speed with which he had come to her rescue was etched indelibly in her mind. Whether he was a ghost, an alien, or simply a figment of her overactive imagination, the desire to see him again consumed her.

Doubt crept into her consciousness, casting a long shadow over her certainty. Had it all been a hallucination, a desperate attempt by her mind to cope with the aftermath of her breakup with Tony? The terrifying possibility of losing her grip on reality loomed large, a spectre haunting her waking hours.

No! She couldn't be this weak. She wouldn’t let him break her just because a man she had foolishly loved for years had betrayed her.

Weak wasn't a word she'd ever associated with herself.

Putting her pencil down, she shuffled the photos aside and tidied her desk in a futile attempt to distract her chaotic mind with the pending folders of paperwork in the corner.

A navy blue folder nestled beneath the other folders caught her eye.

It was a documentary invitation.

A month ago, she had received a special invitation to Xuhetti Country for a documentary. Xuhetti Country, which had recently gained its independence from years of brutal civil war, was the new focus for the company. They had decided to venture into new territory for a fresh topic and form a new team for a project lasting approximately 30 days. Elena was one of the selected respondents for this mission.

Taking a grip of the folder, she glanced at the wall clock, having about 50 minutes before their workday ended. Leaving her desk, she headed to the manager's office.

"Ms. Enya," Elena knocked gently on the door, seeking permission to enter.

Ms. Enya looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing her face at Elena's sudden request, but she nodded in affirmation. "Elena, yes? What can I help you with?" she asked, setting down her reading glass.

"Ms. Enya, it's about the invitation," Elena paused, placing the folder on her desk in front of her. "Please, consider me in."

Enya took a moment to process this, a line of curiosity forming across her arched brows.

In her forties, Enya Douglas was a striking woman with a tenacious and persistent demeanour. Minimal makeup complemented her smooth, bright, glassy skin. Though lean and athletic, she wasn't lacking in style. Her midnight sleek black hair left loose flowed over her shoulder, with one side of her hair neatly tucked behind the ear, a golden hairpin to secure it in place.

"Are you sure, Elena? I'm afraid it might be a little rushed for you," Enya questioned, her tone laced with concern.

"How rushed is it?"

"Well, the team's assembly has been set up and ready to deploy this Friday." She explained, with a wave of joy pleated in her tone. "We already have Albert Ballard to cover this, but you have been one of our best journalists, Elena. I'm confident that both of you will be a perfect duo!"

Albert had been a steady, inspiring presence during her probationary period. The opportunity to collaborate with him on this new project was a golden chance to propel her career forward.

"This Friday. That’s two days from now. It shouldn't be a problem for me, Ms. Enya," Elena replied, staying firm on her decision.

A month away - a month will be enough to get her head out of Theo or Tony. A challenging assignment was exactly what she needed to snap out of this craziness.

"Excellent! Honestly, I didn't expect you would be interested in this project because I haven't heard from you ever since." Enya admitted, a smile playing on her lips.

"My apologies, Ms. Enya. I’ve been out of sorts lately, but I'm back in the game now. Let me join the team."

"No problem at all, Elena. That's the spirit! Things happen, but we move forward, right? I'll make sure you're included in tomorrow's final meeting." She extended a hand with a bright smile. "Welcome aboard, Elena Silas."

Elena clasped her hand tightly. "Thank you, Ms. Enya, I won't let you down."

Maybe being a little crazy wasn’t such a bad thing, not if it led to something better, Elena told herself.

Her feet dragged across the office carpet as she made her way towards the exit. It was one of those days when the weight of the world seemed to rest solely on her shoulders. The thought of facing her colleagues was suffocating. To buy herself a few more moments of solitude, she lingered, going through the motions of gathering her belongings.

The thought of returning to the apartment, now occupied by Tony and his new partner, the one they had once shared, filled her with a suffocating dread as she contemplated going back to retrieve her passport.

Solitude offered no solace; it was merely a different kind of pain. The ache in her chest was a constant, a dull throb that refused to subside.

Did heartbreak truly endure this long? Was she doomed to a lifetime of longing and regret?

"Elena."

A voice sliced through her melancholy.

Her body froze, every muscle tensing. Was it a trick of her mind, a desperate attempt to fill the void of loneliness?

"Elena," the voice repeated, closer now. The sound of approaching footsteps sent a shiver down her spine. Her heart pounded in her chest, a frantic drumbeat of terror and anticipation.

Theo, is that you..?