THEFT - (A Chris Brown Fan Fiction Love Story)

Chapter 32

When work finishes, Michael tells me to come to his office.

"Do I have to? I really just want to go home," I reply.

"Yeah. It's important."

I follow him into his office. It looks different from last time - he's rearranged his shelves and moved his desk so that it overlooks the city - and the view is so beautiful that I find myself unexpectedly lost in the idyllic, sunsetting horizon. I've never noticed before that we have such an amazing spot for admiring the city right under our noses.

"Are you going to sit down then?" Michael questions me.

I snap out of my trance and sit opposite him. His expression looks too serious for his own good, like whatever he's about to say is not something good.

"Faye. I'm..." he respires but then continues, "I'm going to be honest with you. I am having worries about how you've coped today."

"Why?" I ask, feeling tears burning through me.

"You just didn't seem... engaged with your tasks."

"I knew I shouldn't have come back. Everybody in this world keeps fucking conning me and fucking pushing me around!"

"This is what... this is what I'm talking about, Faye. Maybe you need help. I know a few therapists, the best in the area, and I can put you in touch with them."

"I don't need help, you fucking cunt! It's the people who've turned me into this person I have become who need help!" I scream at him. "Don't pretend like you know everything, because you don't, OK? You don't know shit! You see me at work, and you think you know Faye. You think she's the one with the attitude, the one who's different from everyone else. But I don't even know myself anymore. So for you to act like you know me... you, you, you..."

He stares intently at me as I break down and cry.

"I've got the therapists' numbers on my phone."

Then I turn really angry. Michael had made me believe that my life was back on track again and that I'd conquered the obscuring mountains infront of me. But no. He's just told me that I'm shit at my job and that I need help in practically the same breath. I know that I did OK today - and yes, I hadn't exactly climbed on top of my desk and raved but I had begun to enjoy coming back and being in the work environment again. I didn't do bad today; I know it.

I stand firmly on my feet and powerwalk out, manoeuvring through the building. Just when I thought I'd been too mean to Michael for all these years, he really shows his true colors. An inconsiderate, mean and idiotic spectrum of colors.

Fuck this world. Fuck it.

Just as I am flying out of the headquarters, with my purse banging against every narrow corridor's wall and my brain trying to find its foglights, I, completely out of the blue, think of something.

I need to start the divorce.

I need to divorce James.

I hadn't even thought about it until now.

I should have talked to Jonah about it when he came to visit me in hospital. He's a lawyer, you see, and a very good one at that.

I clamber into my car, set up hands free, call Jonah and start driving.

"Hi Jonah," I say when he picks up.

"Hey. How are you doing?"

I growl. "Fine. Listen, please could you represent me in court? I'm going to be filing for divorce."

"I was wondering when you'd be asking. Yeah, that should be fine. I think."

"You're not certain if you can?"

"I'll drop by your place tomorrow, sis."

He knows I hate it when he calls me 'sis' - and he starts laughing.

"You're not funny, Jonah," I smirk.

"I can hear the smile in your voice," he laughs. "Anyway. Yeah. Speak with you tomorrow. I gotta go."

"Wait. I can't do tomorrow. I've got work."

"You're back working already?" he asks. "You better be taking it easy."

"I'm not ill, Jonah. Actually... I suppose you could come over tomorrow after work. Eight thirty?"

A car pulls out infront of me and I slam the horn.

"So many shit drivers in this area! Fuck!" I say.

"What's happened?"

"Oh, a car just pulled out infront of me. So is eight thirty OK?"

"Yeah, sure. Gotta go. Bye."

"Bye."

When I get home, I literally go straight upstairs to bed.

*****

Work goes by soooooo slowly. Michael avoids me the entire time. After lunch, I see him in one of the corridors as I walk back to my desk and he turns around to go to his office as soon as my eye catches his. What a dick. It's kind of difficult to believe that he was trying to be my bestie yesterday and now he's dodging me like I'm the fucking plague.

I drive home straight after work and Jonah is already sat in his car outside.

I put my window down and laugh. "Hey bro."

He's reading the newspaper and instantly looks up when he hears my voice. "Sorry, I was in another world. I didn't even hear your car drive up here."

"It's a secret agent car," I joke, turning the engine off and climbing out. "You coming in then?"

He opens the car door and follows me into the house. We talk about random shit first and then slowly creep upon the subject of Michael and the divorce.

"So are you sure you want to divorce him?" Jonah interrogates me.

"Yeah. A trillion and ten percent sure."

"I know. Just thought I'd better ask though."

Incase I confess my true feelings and proclaim my love for James? Pffffffft. Pleeease.

It's nice to be able to sit with Jonah and just talk to him without feeling like I need to call pest control for Dad. I didn't see as much of Jonah as I would have liked growing up - but I suppose it was his decision to party every night and get absolutely wasted. I never went with him, partially because I was too young to and partially because that kind of thing just isn't my scene at all. I'm not uptight or anything but I'm a teetotal who can't dance to save her life.

Enough said.

We can't really proceed with the legal shit right now so we basically just talk for the entire time. Jonah lives about an hour away from my house so he leaves at around ten.

I get my phone and text Chris.

F: 'Feel like we haven't spoken in ages - you OK? :) xxxxxx.'

C: 'Yea thx... are you? xxxxxx.'

F: 'Good. :) Yeah, I'm fine thanks. I'm off work tomorrow if you want to do something? xxxxxx'

C: 'Sure. Come to mine? xxxxx.'

F: 'K. I'll text you when I get up. xxxxxxx'

C: 'I love you. Sleep well xxxxxxxx.'

F: 'Right back at you. xxxxxxxx'