Indigo Pages

It was perfect. I was obsessed. I had managed to be the best digital technician I could be to Cienna, and I helped her photo look like a godsend. Warmth engulfed me as she snatched me into a hug.

“I love you so much! It looks so much more lively now!” She squealed before letting me go and stuffing her face back into her monitor. I felt accomplished; like I wasn’t hired for nothing. I mean, I knew I wasn’t, but it still felt good to have a certain kind of photo come out so much better than I expected it to by the end.

I leaned back in my chair, feeling relief flood me. I almost felt I could knock out right here, right now, but I knew I still had much more work left to do. They had another shoot in a different studio other than Cienna’s, and I promised I’d help setup. And then after that, Cienna had another shoot of hers to do.

Not a single day went by where I wasn’t busy here. Fashion was always changing, shifting, and recycling; and they always needed their senior photographer and digital technician to showcase every new piece.

The next few weeks would be especially busy since Yernii came out with a new line. As a matter of fact, I’d already been quite busier than usual, helping retouch the photos for the lookbook that they recently released, and more. I could only imagine just how much more busy my workload was about to become.

A knock kicked me out of my thoughts. I spun around and opened the door for Cienna. I quickly stepped back upon who entered.

“Indigo,” he started. “Just the person I was looking for.” Half my heart started pumping faster than normal. It wasn’t necessarily uncommon that my boss would find me, but still, every time, I wondered if it was for something good or something bad.

“Both of you actually.” Phew. Wait. Should I say ‘phew’? Are both of us in trouble? What did we do?

“What’s up?” Cienna, so casually, asked as she swiveled side to side in her white chair. I strived for her confidence in the security of her job position as a senior photographer.

“I’d been meaning to tell you two, but I don’t think it’s too late.” Oh, no. What is it now? “We’d managed to secure a deal with York Shores—” Oh, hell no. “—to sell our lookbook. So, we’re going there tomorrow to shoot some promotional content.”

I fought the groan that threatened rising in my throat.

“And you’re just now telling us this information, Mr. Miller?” Cienna tilted her head very slightly, her glasses reflecting the bright lights of her office on its lenses as her eyes narrowed on him.

“I told you—I’ve been meaning to tell you. Now you know.” He stuffed his hand in his pocket, uncertain in his stance like he knew he was wrong but refused to openly acknowledge it.

“See you girls tomorrow at eight. You can just go straight to York Shores; the crew will be there before you.” With that, he flashed a smile and exited.

In an instant as the door shut, I let out the groan that had been fighting my throat to escape. I caught Cienna’s eyes in my peripherals watching me. She chuckled.

“What—do you hate books that much? Does being in a bookstore scare you?” She laughed and leaned forward. It wasn’t just a bookstore. It was his bookstore. I’d done my best avoiding him, and he’d done his best avoiding me for three, whole years. I really didn’t want to risk bumping into him again. Although, I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later. It wasn’t like we could avoid each other forever.

“No. I’m just not looking forward to seeing him.” Maybe he wouldn’t be there.

“Him who?” She cocked her eyebrow, letting confusion reign, but then she quickly fixed her face. A new look of disbelief washed over her, mixed with amusement. “Are you talking about your husband again?” She smiled teasingly, as if I was a child with an imaginary friend I was afraid of seeing.

“Don’t worry, Indi. I’m sure your husband won’t frighten you by jumping out of a romance book.” She laughed lowly to herself.

I only groaned. I knew she’d never believe me. Why would she? We were as close as close could be. She’d come over sometimes; I’d go over to her place other times; we’d go out at night most times. Yet, every time I’ve mentioned a husband, she’s never had the chance to even catch a glimpse of him. And the wedding ring on my finger she excused as me wanting to ward off men who would approach me on the daily.

I don’t even know now if I would even like her to meet him or save my sanity and hope he doesn’t show up. I’ve realized he likes running his business under a close eye, so I probably don’t have much hope hanging onto.

That was the only thing I that occupied my mind as the day went on until now, as the sun slowly dipped back below the horizon and the moon took over its shift. I reached home in what felt like no time. At least I had some reprieve on the way back; the breeze that blew through my car windows and picked up my hair helped me to at least clear up some space in my head.

A sigh escaped me as I opened my apartment door, at last, and was greeted with a dark haven. I flicked on the lights and took off my handbag; getting rid of its weight felt like an even heavier weight taken off my chest, like I could finally let go of the strings work had tied to me today.

I looked up to see my lights flickering strangely like they’ve never before. A deep sigh rose up my throat and spilled right through my lips. I closed my eyes and sucked in a sharp breath.

Just fucking great.

Another issue with this damned place that I had to deal with.

You know what, fuck it. Maybe it’ll go away.

I stuck that thought really well in my brain and drew myself over to the open kitchen. As long as I could get a warm, homemade meal, then I’d be fine. Opening the cupboards above, I took down a frying pan and set it down on my electric stove top. I then grabbed some oil and poured out just enough into the pot, then I turned on the stove to let the pot sit and heat up. I was just about to go take an egg out of my fridge when I heard a strange series of musical beeps.

What the hell?

I went over to my laundry closet and peeled back the sliding door. Lo and behold, my washer and dryer had magically turned themselves on. I cocked my head. I don’t understand. Why would it turn on?

I looked back to the stove. There’s no way.

I went back over to my stove and turned it off, then I heard the machines in the nearby closet power down, too. Not only that, but the lights overhead soon flickered into pure darkness.

How fucking great.

Irritation stalked me. I wasn’t about to do this tonight. I just wanted a quick meal. Can’t a girl ask for that and peace?

I gave into my apartment’s sudden bitchy attitude and flicked back off my light switches for good measure. As I walked to my bedroom, all I could think about was how tired I was getting of living here. If it wasn’t one problem, then it was another. And just when you thought things were getting better, there came another problem to irritatingly laugh in your face.

I refused to tell Mom. Then she’d find out I wasn’t staying with him. And then she’d tell Dad, and he wouldn’t let it slide either. I just couldn’t be bothered with the frustration. Of course, it would make my situation much better if I just did what they already thought I was doing and go live with him, but he doesn’t like me either. And I was doing just fine on my own.

I pushed the idea out of my mind and took a quick shower before succumbing to the night. All these frustrations were a thing for tomorrow me to deal with when I’d come back to life.

Grogginess consumed my will as I reluctantly rolled out of bed. I’d almost forgotten what was inclined to happen today. The sun just barely touched the edge of the world, yet I already wasn’t looking forward to the day. I couldn’t even eat any real breakfast since I didn’t want to risk accidental suicide. So, a simple cheese and lettuce sandwich it was.

The time went by too fast. In no time was I now pulling up to York Shores—his famous bookstore.

Please don’t be here.

Please don’t be here.

Please don’t be here.

The chant repeated in my head as I got out of the car and headed inside. I couldn’t even hope for him to be out of my radar today in this gigantic bookstore even if he was here, because he’d obviously be focused on our shoot.

“Hey, babe!” Cienna instantly began walking towards me once she saw me step through the doors of this book heaven. Her glasses glinted in the glistening ceiling lights, and a wide smile greeted me on her plump, glossy lips with brown lip liner that complemented her chocolate skin.

“Hey, what’s up?” I stretched my arms out and we took each other in a warm embrace. At least there was something good so far to kick this morning off. Behind her, I noticed the small crew Jonathan must’ve sent still setting up the area for the shoot.

“How was your morning?” She leaned away, keeping a friendly hand on my side.

“I could hardly eat breakfast. And I had to bathe in freezing cold water.” The most unpleasant experience ever in my cursed apartment so far.

“Oh, my poor baby.” She embraced me even more tightly this time before separating. “What’s the issue this time?”

“When I turn on the stove, the washer and dryer turn on too. And the lights flickered until they died.” I pouted, feeling my prior night frustrations finding their way back to me, but this time, with gloom on their back.

“You wanna crash at my place for a while?” She cupped my face and brushed a thumb against my cheek.

I appreciated the offer, but I didn’t want to burden her. If there was anyone I should be burdening, it should be my own husband. But when was the last time I ever spoke to him? Oh, yeah—three years ago. I, myself didn’t know how we managed to avoid each other for so long; but we did. And I wasn’t complaining.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll find somewhere.” I almost disappeared back into my thoughts once more but I was quickly disturbed before I could even step foot in them.

Shit.

He’s here. He’s here, and he was making his way over to us right now.

“What are you looking at?” Cienna turned around and glanced left and right before she finally found the source of my trance.

“I guess it’s true what they always say,” she said. I was confused.

“What do they say?”

“He’s even more handsome in real life.”

My entire body froze once he finally noticed me. I couldn’t even tell if he flinched in the slightest or kept his cool, but he kept walking until he walked right past the crew and came up before us. He looked just the same; and that jet black slick back still did him wonders, especially with the stray hair in the front that made it perfect. He looked like testosterone defined—strong cheekbones with a wide, sharp jaw to match, and light stubble finely dotted the peak of his chin. His eyes were hooded, and his brows mean.

“Never thought I’d see you here.” Why did I speak? It was the first thing that flew out of my mouth. I didn’t even think of it. What was wrong with me? It was such a dumb thing to say, too. Even Cienna glanced at me sideways.

“Well, it is my bookstore, Mrs. York.” Oh, fuck me. Whatever that meant. It felt like it’s been so long since I last heard someone call me that. Most people at work knew me well enough to refer to me by my first name. Others, I introduced myself to them as Lovejoy, not York. I mean, I wasn’t lying. I kept my name. His was just the addition.

“Missus?” Cienna looked slowly back and forth between him and I.

“Remember when I told you I was married?” I hesitantly found her gaze. Her eyes went wide before she closed them for a second, trying to process this not-so-new information. I mean, I’ve been telling her.

“York—? Wait. Married to who?” Did she think the name was a coincidence?

I slowly turned my head to look back at Jax before switching back to her. She glanced at him too and then gawked at me with disbelief mixing in her eyes.

“Indigo…York…Lovejoy,” she put the puzzle pieces together. A soft scoff escaped her. “Wait, but you were acting like you didn’t want to come here. Why wouldn’t you want to come here if your ‘husband’ is here?” She shook her head as more realization came to her. “And you live alone.”

“Speaking of…can I talk to you over here for a second?” I lightly pulled on his sleeve and drew him away from Cienna. I could deal with her later.

“Hey…” I smiled forcefully and poked his chest. He glanced down at his chest before looking back up at me.

“So, you know like how we’re married and all?” I grinned, clasping my hands. “I kind of, like, need a place to stay for the timebeing—”

“No.” Okay. Damn.

“So, you want to kill your wife?” The raspy undertone in my voice grew even raspier than it naturally was.

He cocked his head to the side. “Whatever do you mean?” He sounded so smug, and his face showed very slight amusement mixed in with disdain. For a second, his eyes roamed from mine to further down my face before rising once more to meet my eyes again.

“The electricity in my apartment has been playing a very dangerous game with my life recently.” I cocked my head too, meeting his smugness.

He seemed to tone it down a bit. Just a bit. “Contact your landlord. Or maintenance.”

I sucked in air through my teeth, hissing. “Jax York refuses wife’s plea to live together — wife later found dead, burnt to crisp in Los Angeles apartment.” I peeked at him.

He smirked through a tight jaw.

“Nobody knows you’re my wife. Try again.”

“I could—”

“Indigo!” Cienna interrupted from afar. “We’re ready!”

“You better get going. You guys have limited time on my turf.” His smirk grew more reassured, smugness radiating off him.

I wanted to leave, but I had to get my last coin in the slot. “I bet you feel like such a big boy saying that, don’t ya?” I laughed, the coarseness of my voice becoming overly evident. His already existent frown deepened, and all signs of amusement wiped cleanly from his face.

Ha! I won.

I smiled and walked off.