97. NOT A RECONCILIATION

VINCENT

I pulled the door open with a force that almost removed the metal frame from its hinges. My eyes met with Simon's and I asked with a tight, angry tone,

"What do you want?"

He slipped his hands into his pocket. "I just want to talk. By the way, did she go home?"

No, Simon. She did not. In fact, she is currently under my duvet, probably having flashbacks of our time together or regretting whatever we had done together since last night. Hopefully, it was the former.

Of course, I did not give him that response. Instead, I gave him the reply she had asked me to give him, "She left here early this morning. I do not know if she went home or not."

I walked out of the room now, to avoid mistakenly opening the door a little too widely and risking him seeing her.

"Oh. Okay maybe after this conversation I will call her to make sure that she actually got home safely. You know, we have drifted apart lately, I feel really bad. She called me last night. I had to meet with you, so I turned dow