handsome prince to come and rescue her. Curling up into a tight ball again, Matilda pictured Damian’s face in her mind, lingering on the details — the wavy hair, dark and rich, but lightened by the sun; his high cheekbones, perfectly chiseled and unbearable handsome; his beautiful smile.
Trying to block out every other thought in her mind, Matilda thought about Damian. Even so, the tears seeped out, wetting her cheeks. She sat and waited for the day to disappear and night to fall, not wanting to feel anything at all but the anonymity of sleep and the ghost of Damian’s arms around her.
-
Matilda put her head in her hands, trying to shake the negative thoughts out of her mind. A week had gone by since her confrontation with Colin — a week in which she had not seen Damian even once.
It was like a hollow place had opened up inside of her. Where she had been happy, optimistic and excited about discovering the world, now she went through the motions of her job, going home at the end of the work day to stare out of her window, wondering what Damian was doing, and whether he cared about the fact she had suddenly disappeared off the face of the planet. Sh e hadn’t heard from him at all — no messages to her apartment, no figure waiting for her underneath her window and no indication at all that he had even tried to contact her.
She couldn’t get the anx ious thoughts out of her head that maybe he had simply given up on her, not interested in seeing her any more if it was going to be complicated. After all, they had only known each other for a very short space of time. Maybe he had already moved on and gone somewhere new, somewhere where he could find other women and other things to amuse him. Maybe Colin had been right. He had only wanted to play around with her and now he had moved on.
The thought was like a punch to the stomach, and she shook her head, trying not to believe it. It was just as likely that he had decided that she wasn’t interested in seeing him anymore. She hadn’t turned up to their designated spot and had n’t been able to contact him. Surely he thought that she was the one who had abandoned him, and abandoned what they had together.
This thought was even worse than the first. She hated the idea that he might think she wasn’t interested. She wanted to shout and protest that it wasn’t so, to somehow communicate to him that the thought of him was all that was keeping her going. But how? There was no way to communicate with him without Colin finding out.
Colin. He had barely spoken to her all week. She had locked the door of her apartment from the inside, using the latch so that he couldn’t get in short of forcing the door down. He hadn’t pushed it, probably thinking that he had won and he could afford to let her sulk for a bit. The truth was that she was scared of him — scared of the thought that he could come in any time and do what he wanted. She didn’t want to so much as look at him. It just brought everything back more strongly.
“Hey, hon, are you doing OK?”
Matilda looked up to see Sylvie sitting opposite her on the table where she was supposed to be researching for a report they were compiling about the history of the city. Sylvie’s round face was concerned, and Matilda tried to hitch a half-hearted smile onto her face.
“Just a little tired,” she replied. “Did you find any other files for us to look through?”
“Oh, never mind about that,” Sylvie dismissed. “You know they only send us down projects like this so we don’t start getting bored and refiling the archive with some bizarre filing system none of them can understand.”
Matilda giggled despite herself at Syl vie’s assessment of her job. It was true that it was often quiet down here, but she doubted that any of them would go that far.
“So what’s eating you? You haven’t looked your normal self at all this week,” Sylvie said, propping her face on her hands. “Don’t tell me
Trying to block out every other thought in her mind, Matilda thought about Damian. Even so, the tears seeped out, wetting her cheeks. She sat and waited for the day to disappear and night to fall, not wanting to feel anything at all but the anonymity of sleep and the ghost of Damian’s arms around her.
-
Matilda put her head in her hands, trying to shake the negative thoughts out of her mind. A week had gone by since her confrontation with Colin — a week in which she had not seen Damian even once.
It was like a hollow place had opened up inside of her. Where she had been happy, optimistic and excited about discovering the world, now she went through the motions of her job, going home at the end of the work day to stare out of her window, wondering what Damian was doing, and whether he cared about the fact she had suddenly disappeared off the face of the planet. Sh e hadn’t heard from him at all — no messages to her apartment, no figure waiting for her underneath her window and no indication at all that he had even tried to contact her.
She couldn’t get the anx ious thoughts out of her head that maybe he had simply given up on her, not interested in seeing her any more if it was going to be complicated. After all, they had only known each other for a very short space of time. Maybe he had already moved on and gone somewhere new, somewhere where he could find other women and other things to amuse him. Maybe Colin had been right. He had only wanted to play around with her and now he had moved on.
The thought was like a punch to the stomach, and she shook her head, trying not to believe it. It was just as likely that he had decided that she wasn’t interested in seeing him anymore. She hadn’t turned up to their designated spot and had n’t been able to contact him. Surely he thought that she was the one who had abandoned him, and abandoned what they had together.
This thought was even worse than the first. She hated the idea that he might think she wasn’t interested. She wanted to shout and protest that it wasn’t so, to somehow communicate to him that the thought of him was all that was keeping her going. But how? There was no way to communicate with him without Colin finding out.
Colin. He had barely spoken to her all week. She had locked the door of her apartment from the inside, using the latch so that he couldn’t get in short of forcing the door down. He hadn’t pushed it, probably thinking that he had won and he could afford to let her sulk for a bit. The truth was that she was scared of him — scared of the thought that he could come in any time and do what he wanted. She didn’t want to so much as look at him. It just brought everything back more strongly.
“Hey, hon, are you doing OK?”
Matilda looked up to see Sylvie sitting opposite her on the table where she was supposed to be researching for a report they were compiling about the history of the city. Sylvie’s round face was concerned, and Matilda tried to hitch a half-hearted smile onto her face.
“Just a little tired,” she replied. “Did you find any other files for us to look through?”
“Oh, never mind about that,” Sylvie dismissed. “You know they only send us down projects like this so we don’t start getting bored and refiling the archive with some bizarre filing system none of them can understand.”
Matilda giggled despite herself at Syl vie’s assessment of her job. It was true that it was often quiet down here, but she doubted that any of them would go that far.
“So what’s eating you? You haven’t looked your normal self at all this week,” Sylvie said, propping her face on her hands. “Don’t tell me
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