3 | A Rose by Any Other Name

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The week Casper crashed back into my life dragged beyond belief, so much so that by Wednesday, I was nearly certain I'd mystically stumbled into some sadistic time loop

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The week Casper crashed back into my life dragged beyond belief, so much so that by Wednesday, I was nearly certain I'd mystically stumbled into some sadistic time loop. By the time Friday finally arrived, I was forcing Isabella to pinch me several times a day, just to be sure I wasn't dreaming. It was quite inconvenient given her desk at the estate agency was across the room from mine.

Casper hadn't been in the office since Monday; it turned out he wasn't officially starting the job until next week, so I had approximately two days left to find a new one, or alter my appearance to the point at which I became entirely unrecognisable. I had to admit, I wasn't making any great strides towards either solution because since my revelation around my life rapidly hurtling towards nowheresville on Monday night, I was a little preoccupied.

When she wasn't being distracted by my pinching requests, I couldn't help but notice Belle's deep blue eyes gazing out of the window beside her desk for impressively long periods of time.

'C'mon, spill the beans,' I said as we joined the Pret A Manger queue. 'Are you also in the midst of a quarter-life crisis?'

'Huh?' was her response, followed by a stammer.

I raised my eyebrows with an expectant look, though I imagined it was quite strained given I was struggling to balance a Coke Zero, an apple, and an egg and cress sandwich in my hands.

'Oh, it's—No, it's nothing. Nothing, it's nothing.'

Belle was a lot of things, one of which was an atrocious liar. Before I had the opportunity to question her any further, I was called over by a cashier, but I assured her that I'd continue my interrogation very soon. As I was waiting for my latte, my phone buzzed in my pocket with a message from my sister.

 As I was waiting for my latte, my phone buzzed in my pocket with a message from my sister

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I groaned. I loved Harriet, but with her wedding fast approaching, her interrogation of my love life was amplifying by the day. A visit from her was the last thing I wanted at that moment in time.

I'd nearly forgotten about Isabella's peculiar behaviour by the time we found ourselves a table, but she certainly hadn't.

'I'm going to ask Dharsheni to marry me,' she blurted before promptly shoving an enormous spoon of soup into her mouth as if she was trying to shut herself up.

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