a flame

Lilly

M

onday morning came too quickly.

Back in downtown Washington, I walked into the elegant marble lobby with more confidence than the first time around, wearing an emerald green, Michael Kors business dress.

Things are finally picking up, I thought enthusiastically.

Noona’s husband, my late husband’s cousin, secured me an interview at his company and it went very well. Like an-offer-coming-soon well. My outlook on life had improved and I could feel the sheer excitement and hope deep inside that made me anxious to put the last few years behind me. A fresh start was exactly what I needed.

With less of the pressure and despair, I reported to the front desk with the folder in my hand containing the signed confidentiality contact and was directed back to the fifth floor.

As the elevator smoothly lifted up to the targeted floor, my heart did an awkward pitter-patter and my breathing grew erratic. My breasts tightened and excitement rushed through me. It was wrong. So darn wrong to feel