Page 36 of My Ruthless Neighbor

Series of messages and voice messages from my employees. I am sure all of them contain best wishes for the new year. It’s exactly why I don’t check any of them and put the phone back in my pocket.

I hate new year celebrations. There’s nothing to be happy about it. It just serves as a reminder of what I had lost.

They say time heals everything. It’s a fucking lie. Time heals nothing. Not the wound left behind and certainly not the gaping hole inside of you. It just helps you learn to live with it. To exist with the pain ever present. With the hole still there. With your heart missing.

You feel it. The absence of what you lost. Every new year is a reminder of it.

Stabbing my fingers through my hair, I swallow hard. In a flash, the four walls begin to close in on me. The pressure on my chest increases and I wrench my tie loose. Unbuttoning the top two buttons, I attempt not to succumb to the panic attack.

I stare hard at the digital display, willing the elevator to climb faster.

The door slides open to the twenty-fifth floor and I release a harsh breath. Finally.

As I step out, I shed the sorrow and anxiety in the elevator behind me. It’s like a switch that has gone off inside of me. The enormity of the pain in my chest that was threatening to blow up is successfully smothered down.

I specifically chose to live in one of the tallest buildings in downtown L.A. because it offers privacy. My unit is on the twenty-fifth floor and it takes up half of the floor. The apartment next to mine acquires the other half.

That’s what I wanted. Solitude. Little to no contact with anyone.

I may be the “coolest boss” to my employees but outside the office, I don’t like to mingle.

That’s why I spent New Year’s Eve working in my office instead of going to the parties I was invited to. I declined to join my parents for dinner as well.

They should quit inviting me to such things because they know I would never show up.

As I near my apartment door, blaring music coming from next door assaults my eardrums.

I missed the time when I had this floor all to myself. The apartment next to mine was vacant for a year. It was a peaceful period.

During that year, I tried buying that place so that I would continue to lead a reclusive life. But the owner refused to sell.

It was fine by me because it remained unoccupied. Up until three weeks ago.

While I never crossed paths with my neighbor, I was made to endure their interesting choice of music.

The most unfortunate thing is, they like to watch movies at full volume too.

Often, I wondered walking next door and having a talk about noise pollution. Because it was getting to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore. But I refrained. I didn’t want unnecessary drama.

Issuing a complaint against my neighbor was the right step but I never got around to doing it.

I should’ve known better than coming home tonight.

The sudden loud female laughter startles me and it’s followed by the barking of a dog.

Sighing, I quickly unlock the door and get inside. A shower might help.

???

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I grab another from the rack to dry my hair. Wet strands fall over my forehead as I stroll out of the bathroom.

The soft glow in my darkened bedroom accompanied by the faint vibration attracts my attention. I walk toward the nightstand where it’s resting. Glancing down, I read the notification.

It’s from Hannah.

After a few seconds, the screen turns black. Before I could pick it up, it lit up again with a new message. Then another and another. She sends a series of messages.

I shake my head, a small smile playing on my lips. I don’t have to open the messages to know what they contain. Pictures. From her little getaway with Raleigh.

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