Expected
950 Words
I woke up that morning feeling like I’d done something illegal.
Not dramatic illegal. No sirens. No flashing lights. Just that quiet, heavy awareness sitting in my chest before my eyes even opened. Like my body knew before my brain caught up.
For a second, I didn’t remember why.
Then it hit.
The email.
The contract.
The click.
I turned onto my back and stared at the ceiling. The crack was still there, thin and crooked like it had been waiting for me to notice it. My room looked the same. Same pile of clothes on the chair. Same half-dead plant on the windowsill.
But something felt… different.
Like the air had been rearranged while I slept.
I tried to get my mind off it so I grabbed my phone.
One new email.
No subject.
Car arrives at 9:30 a.m. Be ready.
That was it.
No good morning. No address. No signature.
Just instruction.
I checked the time. 7:12 a.m.
My stomach tightened, not in fear exactly. More like standing in line for something you insisted you weren’t nervous about that kind of feeling.
“Okay,” I breathed out, like someone had asked me a question.
Lara answered on the second ring.
“You sound awake,” she said.
“I didn’t sleep.”
A pause. Sheets rustling on her end. “You’re going, aren’t you?”
I sat up, pushing hair out of my face. “A car is picking me up.” I said biting my lip nervously as I thought about it.
“That is not an answer.”
“It kind of is.”
She exhaled slowly, the way she does when she’s trying not to say I told you so. “Do you know where?”
“No.”
“What the job actually is?”
“Not really.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
I looked around my tiny apartment. The chipped mug on the counter. The stack of bills I hadn’t sorted. The life I could map in straight lines.
“No,” I said honestly. “But I’m more not okay with walking away.”
She went quiet at that.
“You don’t have to prove anything,” she said softly. “Not to him. Not to the world.”
“I know.”
But knowing and feeling are different things.
“Okay but promise me something,” she said.
I almost laughed. “You and promises lately.”
“If at any point this feels wrong in your gut, forget your pride, leave.”
I hesitated.
“Mira.”
“I’ll... try,” I said.
She didn’t like that answer. I could hear it. But she let me go anyway she knows I'm too stubborn to convince.
Getting dressed felt strange, like I was picking an outfit for an interview I hadn’t applied for.
Too formal would look like I was trying too much.
Too casual would feel stupid.
I was over thinking what I was going to wear.
I settled on something in between. Neutral. Quiet. Like I didn’t want to be read.
The thought made me stop halfway through buttoning my sleeve.
"As if that was still an option" I rolled my eyes.
At 9:28, I was standing by the window pretending not to wait.
At 9:29, a black car pulled up by the side of my house.
Of course it did.
My heart thudded once, hard enough to feel in my throat.I swallowed hard and grabbed my bag, checked the door twice, then stepped outside like this was normal. Like mysterious billionaires sent cars for me every day.
The driver didn’t smile. Just nodded and opened the door.
Inside smelled like leather and something clean and cold.
As the car pulled away, my building shrank in the window. The corner shop. The graffiti wall. The woman who always walked her dog at the same time every morning.
My life.
I watched it slide past, feeling a weird mix of superiority and loss. Like I was moving up and away at the same time.
My phone felt heavy in my hand.
I kept thinking about the email.
Be ready.
Not please come.
Not we hope to meet.
Like my choice had already been made for me.
I tried to shake the thought, but another one slipped in behind it.
What if he wasn’t inviting me into his world?
I checked my reflection in the tinted window. My face looked calm. Too calm. The direct opposite of what I was actually feeling.Like someone else wearing my expression.
Outside, the city thinned. Buildings spaced out. Roads quieter.
“Where are we going?” I asked finally.
“Up ahead,” the driver said.
Not helpful.
When the car slowed, I sat straighter without meaning to.
The building was modern but not flashy. Glass. Steel. Clean lines. The kind of place that didn’t need a sign because the people who came here already knew.
The car stopped.
My pulse felt loud now. Not panic. Just awareness. Like my senses had turned all the way up.
I stepped out carefully.
The air was cooler here. Quieter. Even the city noise felt distant, like it had been turned down.
For a second, I just stood there, staring at the building.
This was it.
My phone buzzed.
I froze before even looking.
Unknown number.
A message.
"You’re early." It said.
I looked up slowly.
Smooth glass reflected the sky back at me. No windows open. No movement. No obvious cameras.
That awareness in the air.
My skin prickled.
Because I understood something then, standing on that spotless pavement with my heart knocking against my ribs.
I hadn’t arrived.
I had been expected.
- Writer
