Chapter Two – The Man Downstairs
662 Words
The alarm rang, pulling Olivia out of a shallow sleep. She groaned, rolling over to silence it. Her eyes felt heavy. She had not slept well.
By morning, her head ached from tossing and turning through the night.
She dragged herself out of bed, washed quickly, and dressed for work. A light blue blouse and black trousers. She tied her hair neatly into a ponytail. Standing in front of the mirror, she sighed. She looked tired. She always looked tired these days.
In the kitchen, she made coffee and toasted bread. The smell filled the air. She ate quickly, then grabbed her bag and stepped out.
The sky was still gray from the night storm. The ground was wet, and cars splashed water as they passed.
As she walked down the stairs, she saw Ethan. He was leaning on the railing, a cup of coffee in his hand. His eyes lifted to meet hers.
“Morning,” he said in that calm voice.
Olivia hesitated, then nodded. “Morning.”
At that same moment, her phone buzzed in her bag. She pulled it out quickly. A message from Daniel.
"Sorry, I was busy yesterday. I’ll call later".
Her chest sank. She slid the phone back, forcing a small smile as she walked past Ethan. He didn’t say more. Just watched her leave. She felt his eyes on her back as she stepped into the street.
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The restaurant was already alive when she arrived. The smell of fried food and fresh bread filled the air. Pans clattered in the kitchen, waiters rushed past, and the manager barked orders from the counter.
“Olivia! You’re late again!” Mr. Benson, the manager, shouted the moment she stepped in. His voice carried across the room, and some of the customers looked up.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said quickly, tying her apron around her waist. “The bus—”
“I don’t want excuses!” he cut in, waving a hand sharply. “Table five has been waiting ten minutes. Move faster or you’ll lose this job.”
Her cheeks burned, but she bit her lip and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
She grabbed a tray and hurried off.
By mid-morning, the place was packed. Her feet ached from moving nonstop. She carried trays, cleared tables, and smiled until her cheeks hurt.
During a short break, she pulled out her phone. No new messages. She scrolled up to Daniel’s last text and read it again. Sorry, I was busy yesterday. I’ll call later.
Her chest tightened. She put the phone down quickly before Sarah, her coworker and friend, noticed. But Sarah still caught the look on her face.
“Daniel again?” Sarah asked, wiping her hands with a napkin.
Olivia shrugged, pretending to be fine. “He’s just busy.”
Sarah gave her a long look but said nothing more.
The rest of the shift passed in a blur. Customers came and went, the manager yelled again once or twice, and Olivia’s mind drifted in and out of focus. By the time she finished late in the evening, her back was sore and her mood heavy.
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Walking home, she climbed the stairs and paused outside Ethan’s door. Quiet again. Too quiet. She tilted her head, listening. For a second, she thought she heard something — a faint scrape, like furniture being dragged across the floor. Then silence.
She frowned, waiting, but nothing came.
Unlocking her own door, she stepped inside and dropped her bag on the couch. She tried to shake it off, but the sound clung to her mind.
Her phone buzzed on the table. A new message. She reached for it, it was Daniel
"Baby girl hope your day was good, sorry I could not call earlier, I was busy, sorry love I would make it up to you"
She just dropped the phone, lay down there and patiencly wait for what tomorrow would bring
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- Writer
