He needed a distraction. Something to make him forget the feelings inside his head, and there was nothing more effective than working.
Turning to his laptop, he opened his email and began to scan through the unread messages.
He had taken a day off the previous day and so there was already a pile of work waiting for him as he saw reports and contracts he had to go through.
‘Just what I needed, he muttered under his breath. These were more than enough tasks to keep him busy.
Without wasting time, he started working on them. But even as he immersed himself, the memory of Zabelle kept sneaking in from time to time.
on
Her broken expression, her trembling voice, the way her pain had hit him, leaving a pain he couldn’t explain or ignore. “Shit!” He growled under his breath, slamming his laptop shut as he realized no amount of work could erase her from his mind.
He leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, when he heard a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” he said curtly, not bothering to look up.
The door opened, and a familiar voice broke the tense silence. “Hey, I brought you some food. You really shouldn’t skip meals, Antonio.”
His head snapped up, and there she was, the one who had plagued his thoughts and refused to leave.
Zabelle, stood in the doorway and in her hands was a bag which definitely contained food as the aroma wafted into the room, but Antonio barely cared about that. All he could see was her.
Here he was, trying to forget her, and she decided to show up.
Zabelle stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Her expression was calm, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes. “Are you okay? You skipped breakfast, so I thought I’d bring you something before you collapse from starvation,” she said. Antonio stood, his gaze not leaving her as she approached his desk. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” she responded simply, setting the bag down. “But someone has to look out for you, and you’re not exactly great at doing it yourself.”
Her words were light, and they appeared to be casual, but they struck a chord deep within him, and they evoked those feelings he had been trying to figure out.
When was the last time someone other than his mother cared for him?
It had never happened, as he didn’t give any woman the chance to get close to him the way he had given Zabelle.
He watched as she removed the food and opened it.
It was a simple but thoughtful meal of pasta and salad. He liked pasta, and he was sure Martha hadn’t prepared it for
breakfast.
