hell or flying | Chaelisa

Chapter 17

I wanted nothing but the best for her, I really did. I always have. It's just that sometimes, like right now that my palms were planted on the cold ground beneath me as I was heaving heavy breaths, I wished that the best for her was me. And knowing I wasn't, that I never would be, was so incredibly painful.

So when I said I was at a loss, this is what I meant. I was at a dead-end, a blind ally with no escape. All I could do now was turn around and take a different route. One that didn't lead to you.

Out of nowhere, my phone buzzed, and it was then that I realized I must've been here for longer than I thought. Somewhere along the way, I lost complete track of time as I settled for staring into space, not giving a damn about the world around me.

Reluctantly, I pulled the phone out and looked at the screen, which lit up with a single notification. Before I got the chance to read it, however, my eyes were dragged to the four digits sitting at the top of the screen. It was four in the afternoon. Where did the time go? Was I really hopelessly sitting here for an entire hour, not moving a muscle?

I must've because my legs ached in protest when I attempted to stand up. They felt like they weren't really a part of my body, and I scrunched my face up in displeasure.

Unlocking my phone, I read the text and furrowed my brows. There was actually more than one, I just must've been so out of it I didn't even feel it vibrate. And if I did, my brain just decided to ignore it.

Michael :
I'm waiting for you downstairs, Mrs. Park

Michael :
Is everything alright?
I thought you wanted to leave as soon as possible?

Michael :
Your husband left for the airport, so I know you're not with him now.
Are you alright?

Michael :
Text me when you see this, I'm going to look for you.

Oh shit, quickly typing a reply, letting Michael know I was just fine, and that I was making my way up to the lobby, I willed my legs to move and stuffed the device back inside my purse. My pulse was racing as my level of anxiety increased.

Did he tell Chanyeol? What would Chanyeol think if he knew I disappeared for so long? This could get me in so much trouble if he knew. But then I realized I got no texts from my husband, which must've meant he wasn't informed of my sudden disappearance. If he was, my phone would've been blowing up.

That was probably the only thing going my way today, and I allowed myself to heave a sigh of relief as I entered the empty elevator and took a ride up to the lobby.

It wasn't long before I was stepping out, turning my head in search of the head of the security. I wasn't too worried about runny mascara streaks on my cheeks, or disheveled hair that would show I was most certainly not okay. I took care of my appearance while I was in the elevator, and I made sure I would look presentable once I set foot back into the office.

Micheal was dutifully standing by the receptionist's desk on high alert, clearly looking for me. I raised a tentative hand into the air, successfully gaining his attention as he muttered something to the woman behind the desk and made his way towards me in long strides.

"I'm so sorry, Michael," I blurted out as soon as he was standing in front of me, "I was just-"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Mrs. Park. It's none of my business. Just let me know that you'll be late next time so I don't have to worry,"

"Yes, of course," I nodded my head in slight confusion as the man didn't look angry and certainly wasn't interested in hearing a made-up excuse. He actually seemed to respect my space, and that was, well, beyond strange, "I'm still sorry though," I apologized sincerely.