Chapter 04

Lena:

Another day starts and surprisingly I wake up with an upbeat energy. I grab a quick shower, wash my hair and get dressed at the speed of light. I want to go to work, something that I haven't felt in a very long time. It's not that I adore being a simple secretary, I know that's way beneath my level, it's the fact that for the first time in my life I have a purpose and my job might be small compared to my current capacities, but it's helping us to get out of our dreadful situation and it feels motivating being the one who's making it happen.

Mom's in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Her treatment must be working, because she looks a little better this morning, a little more perkier than usual and, most importantly, happier. She makes PB&J toast and since I'm on time, I sit down and chat for a bit with her before I leave towards the bus stop.

As I'm waiting for my bus to arrive, a phone call comes in, which is shocking since no one calls me. I'm pretty sure that my old friends must have deleted my number just to cut any association with me. With my nerves on edge, I answer it.

"Miss Marzoli," Ryans heavy voice greets me from the other side of the line. " , I need you to head over to my house before coming to the company. I left one of the contracts I have to hand over to our lawyer today and I need it as soon as possible. They're in the office, in a gray folder with the company's logo. I'll send you the address in a text message. "

"Ok, Mr. Blake." I say and he hangs up without even saying goodbye.

I wait for his message to arrive so I can do some serious math to figure out the bus route or possible combinations to get there. As soon as the phone rings, I open the text. And what I read next leaves me shaking.

I check over and over again to make sure I'm not making this shit up in my head, but indeed it's real, the actual address is in my phone.

I don't even have to figure out how to get there, I know how to, perfectly. An hour and a half later I stand in front of the forged iron gates surrounding the mansion where I lived mist of my life and now is Ryan Blake's property. My sweaty fingers press hesitantly the interphone button, and a woman anwers.

"Who is it?"

I take a deep breath trying not to show how incredibly affected I am from standing here, although I know that my shaky throat is warning me that my voice will be exactly the same.

"I'm Mr. Blake's secretary, he send me for some documents." Indeed, I sounded like I was about to burst into tears. I actually think I might.

"One moment, please." she says and the communication breaks.

Several minutes pass until finally the huge gates open and I can come inside. It's not like I've been craving to go in, truth to be told, I don't want to walk through the threshold because I feel like I'm going to crumble into pieces on the floor.

I gather every ounge of courage I can find within me and I set foot in the living room. The memories slap me in the face and a wave of nostalgia and sorrow wash over me. I feel the tears creeping up on my eyes and I count mentally to ten just so I can calm down enough to not make a scene in front of the housekeeper who's walking towards me.

“I'm terribly sorry, but you'll have to look for the documents by yourself, I'm really busy in the kitchen. Mr. Blake moved in just a couple days ago and there's still a big mess in this house,” she explains somewhat embarrassed.

“Don't worry, I know my way around the house,” I explain trying to be nice.

“I'm Marie. If you need something, just call me and I'll see what I can do.”

“I'm Lena,” I reply back with a smile.

The woman leaves the living room and I force my feet to walk to the office. The reluctance comes because the office is on the third floor and to get there, I have to walk in front of the bedrooms. I don't want to see my okd room, it's going to crush me.

Lifting my chin up, I walk up the gray marble stairs and step bu step and not looking sideways, I get to the third floor, my eyes fixated on the wooden door at the end of the hall and as soon as I go through it, I can finally breath.

There's a huge mess of papers, old furniture and some new ones. I look through the desk and can't find the folder. It's not in the shelves or in the corner coffee table either. Giving up, I decide to woman up and call Ryan, even though he's the last person I want to talk to, but he's the only one who can put me out of my misery by telling me where the freaking folder is. After the second tone, he replies.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Blake, I can't find the apers in your office,” I say, hoping that he'll give this up and I can finally get out of here.

“I must have left them in my bedroom then. It's the third door on the left from there,” he says with a simple tone that ices my bones because he knows as well as me that that was my old room.

“Very well, I'll look there.” Without waiting for a reply, I hang up.

I breathe several times blocking everything off my mind and failing miserably at it. I leave the office and in ten steps I'm in front of my bedroom or, let's face it, Ryan's bedroom.

I open the door softly and the visual I capt is impacting. The place looks nothing like it used to. The clear mauve collor of the walls has been replaced by a sober gray paint. The furniture is modern and the king size bed occupates the center of the room, with black wood, just like the rest of the furniture, the doors and windows.

The place that was my refuge, my personal space while growing up, it has become property of someone else. I can't help the hot tears that slide through my cheeks. Ryan has slapped in front of me everything I've lost and seeing first hand all these changes is painful, it hurts deep inside.

This is what Ryan had planned all along, forcing me to remember him. I know he must be gloating by the success of his revenge, but I won't bow down to him. Cleaning my cheeks dry with anger, I locate the folder that has been my demise sitting on top of the bed, mocking me. I grab them and shoot out of the room. I fly down the stairs and don't even bother to close the door behind me.

I skip the bus stop and head straight to get up on a taxi, even if it menas a serious damage to my economy, that's how pissed I am. The forty minute drive calms me down a bit, but my face is still bloated from the tears. I try to fix me up as much as I can, I don't want to show any sign of weakness when I face Ryan.

Finally arrive at the building and after getting of the elevator, walk past my desk and straight to his door. I open it without bothering to knock and can perfectly see Ryan sitting on his desk looking ruthlessly handsome. My steps are strong and I don't take my eyes off his as I deposit the folder right in front of him.

“Here are the documents you requested, Mr. Blake,” I say firmly, but with an eerie calming tone. He takes them and looks through them, nodding with approval. I'm pretty sure he thought I'd mess with them just to spite him, and if I'm being honest, I thought about it maybe twice on the way over. “If you have no other requests, I'll be at my desk.”

I tur around and focuse my entire attention on the door, I'm not looking back.

“Lena,” Ryan calls me and I'm stunned that he’s used my first name.

“Yes, Ryan?” I look at him from above my shoulder and he's staring at me with a strange expression, however, the situation is more than clear. The cards are on the table. He remembers me. I remember him.

“Nothing, you can take the day off,” he says after a couple of seconds and separates his eyes from me, focusing on the papers in front of him.

I continue my walk and close the door behind me, leaning on it and fearing what's going to come next.