The Man From Elevator
967 Words
After Mathias, I stopped believing love was something you could find by looking for it.
Maybe some women were lucky.
Maybe some women met their soulmate at nineteen and spent the rest of their lives posting matching outfits and anniversary pictures.
I wasn’t one of those women.
At twenty-five, I had already prayed for two different kinds of men.
One taught me how loneliness feels inside a relationship.
The other taught me that apologies mean nothing when behavior never changes.
At that point, I was tired.
Not heartbroken.
Not angry.
Just tired.
And when you’re tired, you stop chasing things.
Including love.
So I buried myself in work.
Completely.
If heartbreak wanted to find me, it would have to make an appointment.
Because I was busy.
Very busy.
Linah loved it.
Of course she did.
I was bringing in clients faster than ever.
Signing contracts.
Following leads.
Attending meetings.
Sometimes I felt more like a machine than a person.
But the money was finally improving.
And for the first time in a long time, I felt like my life was moving forward.
The company operated from one of the tallest buildings in the city.
A massive government-owned tower filled with offices.
Every floor belonged to a different company.
Every elevator ride introduced you to new faces.
Every day felt like a small city inside a building.
I knew almost everyone.
Or at least it felt that way.
The security guards greeted me by name.
The cleaners saved gossip for me.
Receptionists waved when I passed.
Some people thought it was strange.
I thought it was normal.
Why spend eight hours a day around people and act like they don’t exist?
One Friday evening, I looked up from my computer and realized the office was almost empty.
Again.
The cleaners had already started their rounds.
The lights in neighboring offices were turning off one by one.
Outside the windows, the city glittered beneath the night sky.
I checked the time.
9:43 PM.
“Ya Allah.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“When did it get so late?”
My stomach answered with a growl.
Apparently, I had skipped dinner.
Again.
I quickly packed my bag, shut down my computer, and headed toward the elevators.
The hallway was quiet.
The kind of quiet that only exists in office buildings after everyone has gone home.
The elevator arrived with a soft ding.
The doors slid open.
And I stepped inside.
Then I froze.
Someone was already there.
Tall.
Very tall.
He stood near the corner of the elevator, one hand in his pocket.
His dark suit jacket was folded neatly over his arm.
The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled slightly above his wrists.
As if he had also spent a long day working.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he looked up.
And smiled.
Not a big smile.
Not a flirtatious smile.
Just polite.
The kind strangers exchange every day.
But there was something unusual about him.
Something I couldn’t immediately explain.
Maybe it was his eyes.
Or maybe it was the way he carried himself.
Calm.
Confident.
Comfortable.
As if the world rarely surprised him.
I immediately looked away.
Because attractive men had become a public nuisance in my life.
The elevator started moving.
Silence settled between us.
Five floors.
Four.
Three.
Then I noticed something.
He smelled good.
Ridiculously good.
Not the overwhelming kind of cologne that enters a room before the person.
The expensive kind.
Subtle.
Clean.
Dangerous.
I mentally rolled my eyes.
Great.
Even his perfume was annoying.
The elevator reached the ground floor.
The doors opened.
And before I could leave, I heard his voice for the first time.
“Long day?”
I turned.
Surprised.
His voice was deep.
Warm.
Easy to listen to.
“Very long day,” I admitted.
A small smile touched his lips.
“Mine too.”
That was it.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing memorable.
Just two exhausted people acknowledging the obvious.
I walked away.
Certain I would never think about him again.
Outside, the night air was cooler.
The streets were quieter.
Most people had already gone home.
I pulled out my phone and opened uber.
Searching for a ride.
Loading.
Loading.
Loading.
Nothing.
I sighed.
Of course.
The one night I stayed late enough to become part of the furniture, there were barely any drivers available.
I moved closer to the front gate.
Trying again.
Still nothing.
The security guards who normally sat nearby had disappeared.
Probably taking their dinner break.
For the first time all evening, I felt slightly uncomfortable.
Not scared.
Just aware.
The area wasn’t crowded anymore.
The building lobby behind me was almost empty.
The street ahead was unusually quiet.
Then headlights appeared.
A sleek black vehicle rolled toward the exit.
I barely glanced at it.
Until it stopped.
The passenger window lowered.
And there he was.
The man from the elevator.
For a moment, we simply stared at each other.
Then he spoke.
“Still waiting for a ride?”
I looked at my phone.
Then at him.
“Unfortunately.”
His expression softened slightly.
“Would you like me to take you home?”
The answer left my mouth immediately.
“No.”
His eyebrows lifted.
I crossed my arms.
“I don’t get into cars with strangers.”
For the first time, he laughed.
A genuine laugh.
And surprisingly…
It suited him.
“Fair enough.”
Then he leaned slightly toward the open window.
“I work in the building.”
“That still makes you a stranger.”
The laugh returned.
And for some reason…
That made me smile too.
Just a little.
Without realizing it…
Neither of us noticed that this simple conversation was about to become the beginning of something neither of us had planned.
- Writer
