Thanks
1595 Words
CELINA'S POV
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Staring at the back of Sean's light brown hair, there's this simmering rage brewing deep inside of my chest, blooming like those sort of animations I see of flowers bloom, getting bigger, unfolding with precision. If he wants to act like this, then I can be who I am. I shrug my white coat off, and the second I hang it on the back of the chair, Sean notices and turns his head, staring at the coat before he looks up at me standing in my red dress.
I could feel a few more people looking, but I don't care about them.
I smile at him, and I must admit that it isn't as warm as it always is. Holding his stare, I think; Yes, look at me you miserable bastard.
Three years together, and all of a sudden I am being told what to do at his work's brunch?
Is he afraid someone might wrap me up in another sort of coat? Perhaps something larger, warmer and a little more exquisite?
I pull the chair back to sit when a red haired woman prowls forward, her tight little back dress revealing her breasts, the diamonds around her neck glinting as the light catches it-- and goodness me-- they f*****g sparkle. My white pearls feel like nothing in comparison to those gems that glint like stars.
Sean's head swivels in her direction, and he stands. He actually stands-- but worse...he pulls out her chair for her to sit. I stand frozen, puzzled at the sight in front of me. "Thanks, Sean," The red head beams, her manicured nails reaching out and she touches his arm-- not too long, just a brush of her fingers down his blazer. My stomach twists as I notice his smile, how his ears slightly tighten, "No worries, Dalia," He sits back down, he doesn't even look at me.
I purposely pull the chair back, letting the legs scrape against the floor loudly, and heed no one any attention as I sit.
There are salads, meats and veggies decorating the middle of the table, and the need to shove Sean's face into a bowl lingers at the tips of my fingers.
I could grab his hair and pull a bowl closer, and shove his face right it, but I'm not that brave to cause a scene at Sean's work place.
Biting my bottom lip, I stare at my plate, and the sparkling wine in the glass, and then I dare glance sideways, towards Dalia, her smile bright, her teeth abnormally perfect, and her green eyes shining brightly as she laughs at something the man on the other side of her says.
She's stunning.
Perhaps she's Sean's boss of some sort-- perhaps in a higher position here at this company.
Perhaps that's why he's being so kind to her, because he has to be. Sean looks right past me to the head of the table, smiling, "Mr. Welce, it's good to have you here," Sean smiles at Logan-- the man who I practically ran into. Sean looks at me, and actually smiles as he says, "It's the first year Mr. Welce has joined us..." His eyes flicks to Logan again, "...It's always nice to have the boss join us." I almost choke on air at the news. I glance at Logan, and he's staring at me-- not just a look of greeting, but full blown staring. Eyes boring into mine, perhaps right through them even. I offer him a smile, not wanting to feel weird about literally running into the man earlier in the lobby. "This is Celina," Sean smiles, draping his arm across the back of my chair without really touching me. I smile through noticeable absence of his affection, "It's nice to meet you," Something I probably should have said earlier. Logan raises a distinctive brow at me, and every bone in my body locks up. He's going to say we met in the lobby-- he's going to say that and Sean will later ask me why I lied.
And he tells his parents everything-- which means they'll just add that to the list of many reasons why I'm not good enough for their son.
"It's my honor." Logan nods, and the relief filling me is instant and pure. Sean leans into me, kissing me on the cheek, which totally catches me by surprise. I lean into the intimate touch, the purity of love. Perhaps he's been so distant because we barely speak these days, but the deadline is almost over, and then we can get back to normal.
Sean continuously speaks to Logan, trying to joke with him, and I can't help but wonder if he's not trying too hard. "The project is going great. The team is working great together, perhaps I'll use them again in the future." I didn't understand how he could just pick a team, but perhaps there are more than enough qualified for the job and only a handful are needed. "Sean, right?" Logan asks, leveling him with quite an intimidating stare.
I notice Sean's smile falter just a tad, it's barely noticeable from where Logan sits. "Yes," He nods, "Great job," Logan nods with a smile that doesn't quite reach his beautiful sapphire eyes. "Thanks," Sean says with enough enthusiasm that could be shared between three more people. I can see his ego rising, and I wonder if he plans on taking me home after dinner with his presents tonight.
We haven't had s*x in weeks, and I'm starting to think that perhaps the same effects of the lack of intimacy has affected Sean too, so just maybe I'll be able to sleep at his place.
Sean mutters something about sequences and chips when Logan takes his glass of sparkling wine and stands, cutting Sean off. My mouth nearly drops at the blunt dismissal.
Why is Sean working his ass off for this d**k?
How can Logan just dismiss someone like that and think it's okay, or even normal?
"May I have a moment of your time?" Logan speaks, and the entire room falls silent. The chatter stops mid sentence, the giggling is cut off and it's just breaths that fill the elegant space. Everyone stares at Logan, expecting, eager to listen to their boss' great speech or words of wisdom. Logan clears his throat, glancing around, meeting most of the people's eyes, "I came here today for one reason only," His eyes flit across the room, and land on me. His gaze remains locked with mine for a second longer than he'd given the rest, "The reason is," he tears his eyes away, "I'm here to announce a promotion that has been long overdue, and equally deserving. He has worked hard, stayed dedicated and ran things smoothly." Logan's smile doesn't reach his eyes, but then he looks at Sean, "Sean, please stand," Logan grins, raising a glass to the air, "You deserve it. Congratulations on your promotion," I stare at Logan as the room erupts in cheers. My head swivels and I look at Sean, who doesn't even seem to notice that I'm sitting here, and he's engulfed in manly hugs, pats on the back and shoulder, and the brunch has become a walk-around.
"Thank you, thank you," Sean laughs with pure joy in his eyes and voice. Everyone settles, walking back to their chairs, but they refrain from sitting as Sean picks up his own glass, "To my team, I thank each and every one of you." He starts, and my heart starts to flutter. "Logan, I mean-- Mr. Welce, thank you for this promotion. I've been working towards since I started," he raises the glass higher, and then he turns, looking at Dalia. I wait patiently, listening to his thanks and his dedication, "And lastly, thank you, Dalia, for standing by my side," He holds out his hand to her, and she takes it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He tugs her closer, and as he wraps an arm around her waist, my heart sinks as she giggles, leaning into him, "Thank you for listening to my rough ideas and how much effort I put into every single one. Thank you for helping me day and night," My ears start to burn, "And thank you for loving me unconditionally and being the rock through all of it," I stare wide eyed and heart pounding as he kisses her. Not on the cheek-- on the lips. A full on kiss. I watch my world crumble as he starts making out with her, it's quick and vast and my gaze flicks across the room. There's a woman staring at me with pity in her eyes, and a man who looks just as surprised as I am, and that's when I notice that no one else cares.
Not even Sean.
Sean, my boyfriend of three years, doesn't even care that he cheated right in front of me. The claps echo around the room like the annoying buzz of a fly and ever so slowly, I rise. Sean notices, and there's not one ounce of regret as he looks at me up and down and says, "No hard feelings," He shrugs as if I'm the one who had offended him.
No one notices as I grab my coat and purse, leaving through the cheering bodies and lively chatter that fills the room.
No one notices as my heart lay bleeding on those shiny tiled floors.
No one notices.
And no once cares.
But me.
- Writer
