Lydia

Score: Hello - Adele

Three months later...

"Don't forget to bring ice lollies," Gloria's voice comes through the speaker. I move the phone from my left ear to my right, to make it easier to dig into my bag.

"I won't," I say, finding what I've been looking for. Right at the bottom of my mum's old Louis Vuitton Neverfull, of course. My fingers close around my employee ID card and I wrap the cord around my wrist. "I'll pop into Primark and H&M after work, just to pick up some bits and bobs, and I'll be right there," I say, moving up the line at Bean Masters. I try to shake off the uneasy feeling I've been having all morning. Like, I'm forgetting something, or like something's about to happen, or as if someone's watching me...

I hear Gloria's grunt on the other side of the line, taking me away from my thoughts.

"Do you want me to come with?"

"Gloria, we've been through this already," I say, shaking my head, even though she cannot see me. "You know what happened the first and last time you ever came shopping with me since I moved out..."

"I promise, I won't annoy you all the time, and I won't run off, screaming, like I did then," she says and I can practically see her roll her eyes.

After my meeting with Patrick and after he gave me the fifty thousand pounds, I decided that I would make the most of the cards I'd been dealt. I realized that, thanks to my friends and to pure luck, I have so much to be thankful for, after all. I have a job. I have a place to live. And, with the money from the stupid poker game, I've been able to actually start a decent, normal life.

The first thing I did was move out of Gloria and Liam's flat. Not that I wasn't thankful for having a place to stay, but sharing a space with a couple, so much in love and so happy as those two, was, to say the least, nauseating, in my current situation. They were trying to be respectful and to spare the three of us any awkwardness, but, by the end of the first month, it was clear that this wasn't working for me. I was feeling like breaking into tears every time I caught them holding hands, cuddling on the sofa, cozying up to watch a movie, or kissing, while making dinner, so, when Liam mentioned that the studio upstairs was vacant and his dad's company was putting it out on the market, I was more than happy to rent it.

It is a cute, tiny place, with a joined living room and kitchen, and a small bedroom, but it is perfect for one person. Gloria had insisted that I take it rent-free, and Liam had agreed, but I wouldn't allow it and we all finally agreed that I'd be paying my rent as a normal person. To this day, I'm certain that, despite my insisting that I pay the full market price, Liam's given me a lower rate, but, after weeks of arguing, I finally gave up. So that's that.

It is really convenient that I'm still so close to Gloria and Liam, and the building is at a great location, so, that's worked out pretty well.

"I can't wait for Liam's present to arrive," Gloria squeals through the phone. "Alright, babes, see you later, love you, bye!" Gloria says and hangs up.

Today is Liam's birthday and she is planning a secret birthday party over at their flat. It is the last weekend of university, so everyone should be coming back for the Winter Holidays. I'm really excited to see Alex and Nate again. I've gone up to Birmingham twice to see Alex, but I miss having her around all the time, and I know we have so much to catch up on. I want to hear everything about her first semester in uni.

I lower my phone from my ear and open Instagram. This has become my morning ritual. Going to the Bean Masters, closest to the office for coffee and a granola yoghurt on my way to work, and checking Instagram while waiting in line.

First, I open my work account, scrolling through the home page absent-mindedly, looking at the tens of ads for beauty products, and the influencers, praising Belanger Skin&Beauty in their skincare routine videos. So far, so good.

Then, like every morning, I move on to my personal account and give in to my toxic trait: stalking a certain individual with the initials M.C.

A shiver goes down my spine, and I have that same sinking feeling again, only this time ten times more intense. I can definitely feel someone watching me. Or, is it that the guilt about what I am going to do, is getting to me? I lift my head up and take a look to my right and to my left, as if waiting for someone I know to come up from behind my back and see how pathetic I am, scrolling through Mark's feed, three months after he'd disappeared from my life.

He seems to have moved on. Why can't I?

The news about the merger of his father's company with one of the biggest clinical trial companies on the West Coast has been all over LinkedIn ever since it happened. Industry analysts say that the impact of this merger has not been fully assessed yet, but it will make a great shift in the industry. And they have gone into great detail about how well the whole deal was handled, with Mark's name appearing on my feed at least ten times a day. Apparently, he's done a great job over in America.

All this is very ironic, though, as all I ever wanted, after that car drove off from the Heathrow Airport Departures that night three months ago, was to forget about Mark Carter and to move on with my life. The Universe is obviously a bitch though, and had to rub him in my face every chance possible. So, I gave up, and decided that, if I'm going to hear about him and look at his stupid face in articles all over the Internet, anyway, a healthy amount of stalking wouldn't hurt too much.

Nothing crazy, though.

Of course, I was wrong. To this day, it still hurts like hell, to look at the photo of the two of us together at his father's wedding. It's the only photo of us he hasn't taken down. It still feels like a knife to my chest, every time I open his Instagram, and there he is, smiling from the beach in California, or hugging his little sister in her hospital bed, or at a gala, wearing a suit that makes my knees weak, or at a company event, surrounded by people. Surrounded by other women.

Like every morning, I shake off the unpleasant sensation, washing all over me at the unwelcome thoughts, creeping into my head, and move on to order.

"Two venti raspberry lattes and a mango granola yoghurt, please," I blurt out, as usual. I turn my apps off and put my phone in silent mode, before sliding it in the back pocket of my jeans.

The feeling that I'm being watched intensifies even more and the hairs on the back of my head stand on edge. I look around nervously, but there's nothing unusual in the cafe. It is packed, like every morning, and I see the familiar faces of the regulars, looking down at the screens of their phones, making their orders, or having conversations with their earphones in. No one seems to notice me. So, I move on to pick up my raspberry lattes and my breakfast and make my way for the exit, still unable to shake the sensation off.

Ever since Mark left, I can't stand caramel lattes. I can't even look at a Starbucks. And I haven't been able to watch Harry Potter movies.

Gloria tried to cheer me up one night, when I was having it particularly bad, setting up a Harry Potter marathon in the flat. She had gone to great lengths, and even made hot chocolate, and made Liam buy caramel syrup and marshmallows. I bet that was the most sugar that flat is ever going to see. But, when she pressed the start button on the remote, and the Harry Potter opening score came crashing over me from all around, thanks to Liam's state-of-the-art surround sound system, I felt the lump, which had been stuck in my throat permanently since Mark left, swell until it was hard to breathe, and the tears came rolling down my face, without me having any control over them.

That's what that dickhead has done. He has taken all of our happy childhood memories away. He has taken everything that I ever cherished about the two of us and shattered it into a million pieces. Even fucking Starbucks caramel lattes. Our stupidity and our moment of weakness over last summer have tainted it all, and now there's nothing but ash and bitterness left.

"Please, Gloria, stop it," I had begged and Gloria had thrown her arms around my shoulders and stopped the stupid movie.

We ended up getting drunk and playing the latest Batman movie as a background to our rant against men, which a very amused Liam had to listen to while working on his latest university assignment at the kitchen island. Gloria and I woke up the next morning, still on the sofa, not remembering when we had fallen asleep, with a blanket, thrown over us and a box of Ibuprufen and coffees, waiting for us on the coffee table, accompanied by a note in Liam's handwriting, saying: "Not all men are that bad".

I smile at the memory, as I step outside Bean Masters and get swallowed by the sea of folk, going on and about their business in the hectic morning commute, looking like they don't have a single care in the world.

I start walking toward the office, strange alertness gripping at me.

I walk through the sliding doors, adorned with the massive Belanger Skin&Beauty logo, into the building, and head straight for the elevators. I feel a prickling sensation in the back of my neck, as a chilly breeze licks at my skin. Startled, I turn around, but, apart from a bunch of people in suits and a couple of fellow interns, there's nothing else there. Weird. The AC must be on today, even though it is late November.

The elevator doors chime open and I am swept by the sea of people, cramming in. Once inside, I turn around just in time to see the doors glide closed behind my back, and to catch a glimpse of a very familiar face in the crowd. I blink and take an involuntary step forward, trying to get a better look, but the door closes and the elevator takes off.

My heart is pounding against my chest so loud, I am afraid it echoes through the tiny, packed space.

No...It can't be. It's not possible that he's here...

The elevator reaches my floor, but I don't notice, and just stand there, frozen, in the corner, until it gets to the top floor of the building and it empties significantly, ready to return to the ground floor and pick up the next batch of office workers.

Realizing where I am and what's happening, I shake my head and press the button for my floor again. I can't allow Mark Carter to mess with my head from ten thousand miles away. This isn't right. My mind is clearly playing tricks on me today, but I'm not going to let that happen.

I walk past the reception desk on my floor and then head straight for my desk, dropping off the second raspberry latte I'm holding at Adam's desk. Adam lifts his head from the task he's currently working on, then blows me a kiss and winks at me, saying:

"I'll see you tonight, beautiful!"

I smile and turn on my heels, heading toward my boss's office for our morning brief.

Adam's the only friend I've made since I started working at Belanger Skin&Beauty. He's smart, handsome, and knows all the hottest spots in London, and, when we first met, he was also heartbroken, after his boyfriend had dumped him over a voice message the night before. I invited him to Gloria's surprise party for Liam tonight, as I thought he might like to mingle a bit. Not to mention, he's way more fun to go shopping with, than Gloria.

I knock on my boss's door, and she calls me in almost immediately.

"Where the hell have you been?" she says, raising her brows at me from behind her Tom Ford-framed glasses. "You're five minutes late."

Well, I guess, having the same name as the brand you're working for doesn't mean anything...

***

Nine hours later, Adam and I are walking down the booze aisle at my local Sainsbury's, to get some more alcohol and ice lollies. We went to a close-by H&M during our lunch break, and thank God we did, because we ended up staying late at work. In a rush, I changed into the dress I'd picked up from H&M in the toilets at work, and braided my hair, so that it looks like I've made an effort. I really like my dress. It's a navy and gray pattern and it reminds me of my old school uniform, which I used to hate so much, but now actually miss.

The strange feeling that I'm being watched hasn't left me the whole day, but, at least, I haven't seen ghosts again, after this morning.

"Should I have bought your friend Liam a birthday present?" Adam asks, tossing a bottle of vodka in the shopping trolley.

"No, it's fine, you're my date," I say, smiling, as I pick up a bottle of wine that has become my favourite recently, and take a mental note to go by my studio and pop it in the fridge for later. I don't want it to go to waste at the party.

"Oh, how sweet of you! I haven't been on a date in three months, I don't know if I'd meet up to your standards," Adam says with a scowl.

"After everything I've told you about my ex, about both of them, actually, you still think I have any standards?" I raise an eyebrow, and Adam finally cracks up, laughing.

"That's all," I say, tossing another handful of ice lollies into the trolley and heading toward the cashiers. "We're going straight to Gloria and Liam's to help Gloria with the decoration. I'm going to leave you there with her to bond, and I'm just gonna pop to my place real quick to freshen up and drop off some of this stuff there, OK?" I say as we pay.

"Lovely. I'm sure I'd love Gloria, after everything you've told me about her," Adam says and takes the bags from my hands. His turquoise-painted nails flash in the fluorescent light.

As we exit the shop and start walking down the street toward the building, the creepy feeling intensifies so much, that I start walking faster.

"Are you OK, babes?" Adam says, trying to catch up with me, while carrying the grocery bags.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, as we enter the building.

We walk to the elevators and I see that the one, leading to Liam's flat, is going up. It stops on the sixth floor and I raise a brow.

"Someone's early," I say, looking at the time on my phone. The guests aren't supposed to start showing up for at least one more hour. I press the button and the elevator comes down again. As we walk in, a familiar scent fills my nostrils. It is an aftershave I would recognize everywhere, even from a mile away. I haven't told anybody, but I still have a T-shirt I snuck into my suitcase when I was packing after Greece, smelling of this particular aftershave. And I may or may not have gone to the fragrance section in Selfridges on multiple occasions for the sole purpose of spraying some of it on my skin.

I instantly feel even more on edge that I have been all day. This is too much. The uneasy feeling, briefly seeing Mark's face outside the lift at work, his scent, lingering in the small space...is this all in my head?

The elevator chimes and the doors open to the hallway on the sixth floor. My heart is pounding against my ribcage, as Adam and I make our way to the door. I ring the doorbell, and, almost instantly, the door flies open. Gloria's face appears in the doorway. She's flushed and looks nervous.

"Hey, babes," she says, moving aside to let us in. "Lydia, please, don't freak out, but..."

"What the fuck is he doing here?!"