Missed Opportunity

The alarm clock buzzed persistently, like a giant mosquito with evil red figures for eyes. 6:00 was an hour earlier than usual. Pungent odours of vanilla candle wax and last night's indian, mingled with a faint but lingering dampness. Dreading the inevitable aches brought on by six hours of tossing and turning on a floor mattress no thicker than a tarp, Elizabeth lay frozen, staring at the ceiling. The faint light above the kitchen stove in the next room allowed her to make out the familiar shapes looming above her. A dusty dresser, with peeling yellowed paint, a bookcase housing nothing more than a few cookbooks and old photo albums, a singular bony armchair illuminated by the fiery glow of the gas heater. This apartment was temporary. It was these words that she had repeated over and over in her mind as she anxiously signed the rental agreement. And eleven months later, It was still what she hopefully affirmed herself of. 

The time on the dash read 8:47 when Elizabeth turned the keys, laying the sputtering old Buick to rest. 

“At least it never has a problem turning off” She muttered to herself, fixing her unruly dark hair in the sun visor mirror for the nth time. 

“Did you really spend an extra hour on this mess?” 

She was talking to herself, which was a telltale sign she was nervous, or frustrated. Or both. She hurriedly reached for the package which she had carefully wrapped the night before, in the only wrapping paper she owned that wasn't obviously Christmas themed.   

Why had it taken so long for the car to start that morning? If she had had five extra minutes perhaps she would have been able to catch Brian before work. He always got here early. Maybe if there hadn’t been a possibility of interruption, she would finally have used all her courage - courage so painstakingly collected from little conversations, from stolen glances when their eyes met for a split second, from watching his face light up at their playful banter - and asked him. Perhaps at this very moment they would be finally in a warm, relieving embrace. The thought of feeling his strong arms tighten around her made her heart beat a little faster, and her cheeks feel a little warmer, as she walked through the elevator doors to the eight floor. Oh If only she hadn’t spilled oatmeal on her best blouse. The one with the tighter fit and the top button a little lower than the others. The pink cardigan she had been forced to don to cover the stain was undeniably a step down in sexiness.

…

It takes roughly 20 minutes for a mug of coffee to go from scalding to unpleasantly cold. The now bitterly undrinkable liquid sat forgotten on Elizabeth’s desk as she tapped away at her keyboard absentmindedly. Expense reports were imminently due, but the paperwork sprawled elbow deep across her cubicle was naturally the last thing on her mind. Brian looked even more handsome than usual today, if that was possible. Dark brown hair loosely framed a chiseled face with expressive brows furrowed over soft, thoughtful eyes, the kind of eyes you could write a novel about, if you looked into them long enough. He had a taller figure, his head often peaking over the cubicle walls and making Elizabeth laugh. 

“Good morning Lizzie '' He smiled as she caught his eye. 

She loved that nickname and the way he said it in his quietly unassuming way. 

“Morning Brian,” She replied, pushing away the intruding thought that she wouldn’t hear his baritone voice saying her name for much longer, “So today is the big day!”

“Well, yes I suppose.” 

“Is it strange?”

“A little, I don’t think the realisation has quite set in yet, you know.”

The pair attempted to carry on a conversation, Brian leading with his witty, intelligent remarks, and Elizabeth spitting out disjointed replies with the grace of an elephant. What was wrong with her today? She was dismayed to find herself twinging at the unmistakable twinkle in his eye, the spring in his step. It was understandable of course. Leaving the dullness of a 9-5 office job after seven years to pursue a lifelong dream would be an exciting prospect in any regard. And she truly was happy for him. Who wouldn’t be? He knew what he wanted and he was going to make something of himself. It was admirable. inspiring. Painful. Her insides scrunched up like a leaf, not with envy or malice but with a simple increasing desperation, a longing for her feelings to be known and reciprocated. 

… 

Balloons; green, yellow, and blue tied in bunches of three. It was refreshing how a few spheres of brightly coloured rubber could change the atmosphere of a place. The late afternoon sun cast a golden shimmer on the room, which was now littered with wrapping paper and plastic cups, as a Whitney Housten classic blared from the stereo. As the hour hand inched closer to 5, the chatter began to lull and the room seemed to unwind. It wouldn’t be long until they would be taking down the Good Luck Brian! banner, along with the balloons, transforming the emblems of happiness into useless rubbish. A short lived high of excitement, ending in an instant. Pop! 

Beads of sweat began to congeal on the back of her neck as Elizabeth held Brian’s gift in her hands, darting her eyes around the room. There he was in his corner by the West window. The goodbyes and good wishes were over and he was gathering his things. This was the moment she had been waiting for. Keep it together Elizabeth! 

Brian swung around in his chair to face her as she approached.

“This corner really won’t be the same without you.” She hoped he couldn’t hear the shakiness in her voice.

Brian smiled and ran his fingers through his hair, “I’m sure going to miss you Lizzie”.

Her pounding heart skipped a beat, “Me too… I mean I’m going to miss you too”.

There was a long pause. It was now or never.

“Brian I just wanted to tell you…” 

Their eyes met as Elizabeth was caught in a balancing act. The familiar and the unknown. Comfort and risk. Searching, frantically searching for something, anything in those big brown eyes, a beacon, a sign to tip the scale and fling her far across the point of no return. But she remained suspended. Drowning. Her one chance slipping through her fingers like sand - 

“...That I really enjoyed working with you” 

With a jolt, she came crashing back to Earth. The room was spinning. She saw his lips move but the sound didn’t reach her ears. She had failed. She had missed her chance. She was a balloon, deflated, punctured. Nothing more than a shriveled fragment of what could have been. 

Almost turning away, she realised she was still stupidly clutching the little package. She took a deep throbbing breath, more of a gulp. 

“I got you something” as if the gift was some sort of compensation for her foolery.

Brian took the offering tenderly from her outstretched arms. 

“Thank you Elizabeth, it means a lot, really” His eyes were as kind and gentle as ever. 

It was all she could do to nod and show her teeth in what was really more of a grimace than a smile. The homemade vanilla candles and signed polaroid seemed meaningless and humiliating now. 

It was in the safety of her car that she finally let the sobs overcome her. Her breath came in croaks and little spurts. An engine broken down. 

They had reminded each other to call. And then he was gone. Missing from her like a piece to a puzzle. 

Somehow, The apartment didn’t feel so temporary anymore.