2
As every day... Maybe I sounded a bit rushed.
"You're not to blame for Oscar being a jerk and leaving you alone with Adrien. Well... even if he's not his biological father, he should have acted like a man and not abandoned you as he did."
"Jackie... not now, please. It's not the right moment... Besides, I'm at work," I said, a tinge of sadness in my voice. "And you promised we wouldn't bring this up again."
"Okay, okay. I won't bring it up again, but if you keep waiting for him to come back, it's because you're too naïve," she said sternly.
"I am, but you already know that, don't you? It's not something new," I tucked my hair behind my left ear. "Pick up Adrien, please. I'll come when I'm finished, and let there be pizza!"
"Yeah, yeah. Have a good day," my friend wished me cheerfully.
I hung up feeling sad. I knew my friends just wanted to see me happy again, but I refused to forget about Oscar. He had helped me a lot when...
I sighed.
My skin crawled, remembering what happened five years ago when I got pregnant with my son.
At that moment, I noticed the presence of the man I had encountered at the company's reception. I shook my head, looked away, and began scrolling through the WhatsApp messages from my friends, whom I hadn't seen in a long time.
Since moving to Oklahoma with Oscar because of the pregnancy, I hadn't returned to my hometown. I couldn't face my parents after that, but since he left, I planned to go back so my family could meet little Adrien.
Feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the man, who shielded his gaze behind sunglasses, hands clasped in front of him, wearing a half-smile indicating confidence, I adjusted the sleeves of my gray jacket over my black T-shirt, revealing a butterfly-shaped tattoo on my right wrist.
The suited man glanced back at the elevator doors and remarked, "Nice tattoo."
"Thank you," I said, glancing at him.
"When did you get it?"
"When I was nineteen. I was in my first year of college and had a few months left, I think two, when I got it... Now it's faded, but when I have some time, I'll get it touched up to make it better," I replied, examining the design on my skin.
"I'm sure when you got it, you were thinking of someone special," he shrugged slightly.
"No. At that time, I wasn't thinking of anyone..." I almost whispered.
He glanced at me, probably sensing a hint of sadness in that last sentence, surprised by the sorrow in my gaze at that moment.
Unexpectedly, the elevator stopped at the fifteenth floor.
I began pressing the button for the thirtieth floor to resume its journey, but it didn't happen.
It remained stuck.
"No, this can't be happening," I thought, panic setting in.
The man seemed unfazed by my attempt to restart the elevator. Without further thought, I started pounding the steel doors with my free hand, the one without the letters, while saying, "We're here! Please, someone help us!”
"It's only twenty to nine. I don't think there are many people around yet," he spoke calmly.
"I know that! But I can't stay trapped in an elevator... especially not with a man!" I yelled nervously.
My comment made the man turn his face toward me, but I kept pounding on the steel doors and shouting. He seemed surprised, evident in his eyes as he looked through the lenses of his glasses.
As the minutes passed, my anxiety escalated. I slumped, placing a hand on my chest as I started feeling palpitations, my heart pounding, and my heart rate accelerating.
"The last time I was trapped in an elevator with a man... was when..." I thought, growing more nervous.
Tremors set in, my body began sweating, and the feeling of struggling to breathe normally gripped me tightly.
"Hey, what's wrong?" the man asked, a mix of curiosity and concern in his voice.
He reached out to touch me, but I recoiled sharply.
"Don't touch me!" I shouted, pressing myself against the wall, where his arm accidentally brushed mine. "Ouch..."
"Let me help you," he said, moving closer again.
"No, I don't want that! I don't want a man touching me!" I yelled once more.
The feeling of suffocation intensified with each passing minute in that place. I also experienced discomfort in my chest, nausea, and abdominal distress. I felt my legs starting to lose stability, and a sense of dizziness slowly increased.
Shivers ran through my body. As I sensed tingling in my legs, I fell to my knees on the elevator floor and leaned against the wall, one hand on my chest.
"You need to calm down," he advised.
"I... I can't..." I struggled to speak.
"If you continue like this, it'll only get worse."
He crouched down to my level, offering a reassuring smile. Slowly, he started suggesting calming techniques to help me ease the feeling of being trapped in an elevator.
Afterward, he extended his arm and pressed the button with a yellow bell symbol for a few seconds, waiting for a response, but there was none.
He pressed it several more times, yet there was still no answer. He loosened his tie, feeling the pressure. It was getting hot, too hot in that confined space.
Sitting beside me, he bent his knees and rested his arms on them. He searched his inner jacket pocket and retrieved a cellphone.
Raising his arm in search of a signal, he found none. How was this even happening?
He turned his head to me, his expression puzzled as he saw me breathing into a brown paper bag covering my mouth and nose.
"Think that they'll rescue us soon, and when that happens, things will get better. By the end of the day, you'll be laughing," he said to distract me from the situation.
I nodded slowly.
I continued breathing into the bag until I felt calmer, still leaning against the wall with the bag in one hand. My hair fell over my face, preventing him from seeing it.