Eight

Aurelia’s POV

My phone buzzed barely ten seconds after I sent the message.

My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the screen like it had personally offended me.

Why was his reply that fast? Was he fervently waiting for me to send a message?

My heart thudded against my ribs as I opened it.

It read:

Masked Man: Yes, I am available.

That was it? He didn't use any emoji or initiate any small talk since I literally just texted him for the first time. It was just three words.

I frowned, I found it a little cold. How did he even know who was texting or was he that eager to meet up again?

Heat crept up my neck as flashbacks of our last time together resurfaced in my mind and I adjusted on my bed restlessly.

“It was much better than fantasizing about that asshole” I consoled myself and swallowed before typing carefully.

Me: Not tonight though, I'm busy.

No I wasn't, in fact I had just quit the job I started today. But I didn't want to come across as a desperate and cheap whore, nor did I want to get attached easily. I needed to be in control of this weird connection, after all he is just a means to get Alfred off my mind.

The three dots appeared almost instantly.

Masked Man: Me too but pick a day.

My breathing slowed and steadied. I liked this, the simplicity and directness. There were no emotional complications or games, just mutual understanding and desire.

He seemed sensible enough so we exchanged a few more messages and we finally settled with Thursday, 10PM at the usual Club Zero.

Then I paused as a thought came to mind, if I was going to do this, I wanted it to completely be on my terms. If we formally agree then I can be rest assured that he won't renege on our deal and I can protect my image better.

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense so I typed again.

Me: I have a few conditions if we are going to keep meeting like this.

A few seconds passed and I got a reply. Masked Man: Go on, I'm all ears.

My fingers hovered briefly and I thought about it some more before I continued.

Me: Minimal talking. No need for names and no asking personal questions. Lights should always be off and our masks on.

This will be strictly no strings attached, we will only meet for sex and part ways. Is that okay?

I stared at the words for a bit, my pulse loud in my ears. It sounded reckless and shameless but it was exactly what I needed.

I didn’t want him to know who I was, I didn’t want to risk recognition. The thought of someone out there knowing I was sleeping with a stranger made my stomach twist with embarrassment.

This was strictly physical, nothing more so it was better this way.

A reply came a few minutes later. Masked Man: Agreed, your terms are fine with me.

I was surprised there was no argument or negotiation. Just agreement.

Something about that made my chest tighten, I did know he was this cold before.

He probably didn’t care who I was either and only wanted sex.

Well good, that’s how it should be.

I locked the phone and tossed it onto the bed, exhaling slowly.

This wasn’t about romance or replacing Alfred.

It was about control. I have lost control in my relationship, family, and even my job. I was losing my emotions too.

But this? This I could control.

Or so I told myself.

Later that night, I stepped out of my room to get water and froze when I heard hushed voices from the living room.

“…the bank won’t extend it again,” my father whispered.

“I told you we shouldn’t have depended on that contract money,” my mother replied, her voice strained.

My stomach dropped.

“There are school bills too for Marietta. And now that Aurelia is no longer working, we…”

“Lower your voice!”

Silence ensued, then my father said again, softer this time. “I’ll talk to them tomorrow. Maybe they’ll give us one more month.”

One more month.

My fingers tightened around the edge of the wall, did I just let my anger push me to make a grave mistake? I had forgotten why I took the job in the first place and that was to support my parents. Now I have indirectly increased their worry by quitting.

Maybe quitting that job wasn’t bravery. What if it was stupidity or a luxury I couldn’t afford?

Alfred should be a valid reason and it made sense at the time but now hearing my parents worry, I felt like I didn't really have a choice.

I quietly retreated to my room before they could notice me listening but guilt settled heavily in my chest.

You were proud of what you did few hours ago, Relia.

Now what?

I opened my laptop and started applying for jobs immediately.

Receptionist…

Administrative assistant…

Personal secretary…

Customer service…

Anything.

I didn’t even care about salary at this point. I just needed something to replace the one I just lost.

Hours passed and my eyes burned but I kept going.

Click - Type - Attach CV - Submit - Next. It was a continuous cycle of applications, I was drained but I didn't stop… I couldn't with everything at stake.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, my phone screen lit up again.

It was a simple message. Masked Man: Don’t be late.

My stomach flipped involuntarily. I didn’t reply to his last previous message and I didn't feel like replying to this one either.

I didn’t need to.

Around 2AM, exhausted and emotionally drained, I picked up my personal phone and Jonathan’s contact stared back at me.

I don’t know why I opened it. Maybe I wanted to feel something familiar or maybe I couldn't stop wishing he miraculously sent a message.

I missed him but he abandoned me so easily when things were rough. I couldn't trust him but his name still sat there like unfinished business.

My thumb hovered over the delete option. I thought of blocking or deleting his contact. I should be trying to move on since he was clearly doing the same too.

I hardened my heart and pressed it.

The contact vanished and a strange emptiness filled my heart. Just like that?

My chest tightened unexpectedly. I hate feeling disposable and maybe I was being too rash. He could be in danger or something.

I reopened my call log and scrolled.

His number was still there.

My heart wavered, what was the harm in waiting?

I knew that it was pathetic but slowly… I re-saved it. Just in case.

I dropped the phone onto my pillow and covered my face with both hands.

Why can’t I let go of anything properly?

Alfred still haunted my thoughts.

Jonathan still lingered on my phone.

And a masked stranger now had a scheduled time to touch me.

My life was spiraling.

And somehow…

Thursday suddenly felt closer than it should.