Cross

14 | Denial

He responded, most likely saying something nice about his lovely fiancé, but at the same moment, my father's loud voice came crisply through the door. "Honey, the breakfasts getting cold!"

I replied, "Coming, dad!"

As soon as that was done, I turned back towards my wardrobe and said, "You heard the man. I got to run, but I'll see you tonight, okay?"

A mixture of an amused chuckle and seriousness came through his voice as he said, "I'll hold you to it."

With that, we said our farewells and ended the phone call. Now, without a distraction, I focused solely on the act of choosing out my clothes, but this was easier said than done. A pale pink blazer immediately caught my eye, and almost instantaneously I decided that it was exactly what I wanted to wear today. What I was going to wear underneath it, however, was the tricky part.

I wasn't one to dress provocatively for a long day of work, therefore dresses and the like were out of question. I hadn't worn a skirt in the longest either and seeing how cold it had been this week, it seemed like a foolhardy idea to even bother. This left me with relatively few options.

I could just wear my usual, jeans and a blouse, but when I stopped to imagine her reaction, I shuddered. She would no doubt cause a scene if I even dared to show up to her house for a formal event in casual attire.

Defeated, I tried to work past the obstacles by planning for the following day since I would be sleeping overnight at her house. Pulling out a navy-blue blaze, a crisp white button-down shirt with blue bedazzled buttons, and black skinny jeans, I examined the clothing items briefly before deciding that they were good enough. Nonchalantly folding them up to the best of my ability, I tucked them into one corner of the duffel bag and then proceeded to pull out my shoe-collection from underneath my bed.

Now, I wasn't exactly a shoes-obsessed person, but I owned my fair share of different types of footwear. Zoning in on a pair of ankle boots that matched the blazer I had chosen, I lifted them out of the container, placed them besides the clothes, and zipped up the bag. With that all done with, I moved back to my closet for a final time to pick out an appropriate outfit for today.

After much thought and consideration, I waved the white flag and pulled out a grey half sleeve dress that hugged my body from my neck to my waist and then flared out to just above my knees. All of my athletic curves from years of body-building, training, and fighting were emphasized by the dress and although it made me slightly uncomfortable, I decided that the misery was worth the cause. At the very least, Agent Lam would be impressed.

"Angelina!" My father yelled from the kitchen, presumably worried that I was going to skip breakfast since I was running late.

"Just a minute!" I responded, before I quickly changed my clothes. In a last minute, split-second decision, I threw on some sheer stockings, rather than the much-preferred leggings, to complete the look.

"You're getting late, Angie!" he warned.

"I know, I know," I exclaimed as I stuffed my feet into socks and nude-pink ankle boots that (once again) matched my blazer.

Seeing how my hair was still drying, I left it down to save some time and picked up my bag from my desk. It was almost humorous how in spite my rush to get dressed and leave my house with decent amount of time left for traveling, my eyes still fell upon the crumbled pieces of paper inside my bag and just like that my positive attitude took a dive for the worse.

Grabbing them with both hands, I stared at them while I contemplated my next move. My soul screamed at me, it's him! You know it's him! Don't be stupid. On the other hand, my heart was in denial. I wanted to desperately believe in Agent Beta's theory. I wanted to look myself directly in the eyes and truly believe myself when I said, it's not him. It can't be him. He's gone. But, I couldn't. Not wholeheartedly.