This Too Shall Pass

Angelica imagines herself sitting in a vast open field, daisies surrounding her, as she inhales the sweet summer smell. This place is a utopia yet there’s a knot in her stomach. A knot that eats at her and tears through her like a sword. As her curly blonde locks brush past her freckled face in the wind, she wonders what is beyond this point. 

What is out there, past the flowers—past the field itself? Then she blinks. It is all gone. 

“Angelica… Get back to work,” 

Her boss is the bane of her existence, her real life one at least. She has learned to deal with him through certain means such as daydreaming. Today, she is not in an attorney’s office, she is in that field. 

He just interrupted the good part. 

The good part in any story to sweet Angelica is where her lover shows up. Imaginary, of course, because there is no reality where she finds her true love. At least that is what she believes. 

Angelica believes in a lot, from tarot readings to an almighty being out there, but she cannot fathom a world where stories of lust combined with eternal longing exists. That is why she quickly returns to her daydream. 

Until he shows up. 

Lorenzo Cantacessi, the brooding yet dangerously attractive lawyer who unfortunately for Angelica, hates her. It happened the night before a career-defining case for Mr. Cantacessi occurred. Everything was prepared from argument notes to weaknesses of the opponent. Angelica stayed late that night, proofreading her perfectly crafted and organized email of all the case materials, and when she hit that “send” button, she could finally relax. 

It was finally her time to watch her favorite movie, “27 Dresses,” with her overflowing glass of sparkling rosé. They were just about to meet for the first time, or for Angelica at least the 10th time this month, when she gets a call. 

“Did you send that email yet?” Lorenzo abruptly asks, sparing a “hello,” 

“Yes Mr. Cantacessi, I sent it about an hour ago,” 

“I didn’t get it,” he says right before he hangs up the phone. 

Angelica sits there, confused. As she had done everything perfectly. Tomorrow was supposed to go smoothly and not only be a big break for Lorenzo, but for Angelica as she could finally prove herself as more than the daydreaming assistant. She needed this job because she doesn’t have her knight and shining armor to provide for her; she lives in a shitbox apartment in downtown Williamsburg, which with the market today, is considered a rare steal. 

She quickly switches over to her email inbox, and that’s when her heart sinks. The lingering pit in her stomach doubles in size when she realizes she had sent the email to the opposing party. 

“Fuck,” she whispers under her breath. 

And while she should be worried about her career, all she is worried about is her chances with Lorenzo becoming even further from reality. 

Her life is centered by love and she lives by her philosophy that without a significant other, nothing else matters. 

What is there to live for? 

“It’s been weeks since The great incident of the 21st century,” Angelica mutters.

She is laying in her same spot on the same couch in her practically two by two apartment. 

“Angel, you’ve gotta say something,” Marissa, her partner in crime and childhood next door neighbor declares. 

Whilst Angelina takes it lightly, Marissa knows she is hurting… And not for the right reasons. 

“He normally gives me at least a nod in the morning, now it’s nothing,”

“Probably because you fucked up his career and never said anything short of ‘oops’ to him,” Marissa shouts into her pink bedazzled iphone. “It’s not like he is your guy anyway, don’t you want a Noah Calhoun? Just listen to me… you might not like it but I can tell you exactly what you do not need in your life,” 

“I don’t wanna hear it again I already know,” Angelica huffs. 

She knows deep down Lorenzo Cantacessi has never and will never be “her guy,” but she holds onto the small chance that he may be, in which she hears from her psychic, Elanor. 

Angelica likes to, or rather needs to save every penny she can to get by. But where she does splurge, and considers a necessity at this point, is her weekly appointments with Elanor. Elanor lives right across the street from her brick cage, and she gives her tarot readings for the week. Usually centering around her general love life and questions she has about it. But this week’s appointment was going to be a little different. 

The lightbulb flashes in Angelica’s head, and she throws her phone on the other end of the couch without second thought. 

She can hear a faint, “Alright, bye babe,” coming from Marissa through the speaker. 

Angelica throws on her Ugg boots and spares no time before she runs out the door, forgetting her key. 

She quickly arrives at Elanor’s and busts through the door. 

“Have the spirits taken over your body? Have you finally gone crazy from celibacy dear?” 

“Elanor, I have to ask you something and I need you to answer honestly,”

“It’s not your best outfit dear,” 

“No, not that… I need to know if I am meant to be with Lorenzo,” Angelica spits out. 

Without hesitation, Elanor drags her by the arm, and swiftly lights candles of all sizes, and places them on her crochet table cloth, among her many other eccentric decorations. Angelica nearly hit her head on a hanging crystal before sitting down. 

“This is the moment I’ve been waiting for honey, and you have got some real work ahead of you.”

She looks at her trusted psychic like she is insane, because although she might be, she always was very clear with what she was alluding to. But this time, Angelica had simply no clue. 

“Lorenzo Cantacessi, yes? That’s who we are talking about, like as in my boss?” 

“Oh yes dear it is clear, the spirits are telling me you two are kindred souls. One day you shall intertwine, but it won’t be by pure luck… And that’s all I am reading. Your vibrations are low,” Elanor reveals. 

“I’ve gotta go,” Angelica then rises from the table and in one second, she is gone. 

Elanor smiles and lets out a light chuckle, one that a person can only believe means that Angelica has a lot ahead of her. 

“Fuck you, spirits, I thought you were on my side today,” Angelica yells. 

She is now realizing at this very moment that she had lost her keys. Completely excluding the idea that they might be in her apartment, she rushes to the office on her yellow bicycle with a white wicker basket. 

What feels like two hundred years later, she arrives at her workplace, which she had previously assumed would eventually be her “ex-workplace,” but based on how the last week has gone, it’s looking like she’s staying there. 

She can’t help but feel a sense of disappointment when she imagines being at this job forever, but then the gut wrenching feeling takes over. The feeling of never seeing Lorenzo again that eats at her and forces her through those glass doors. 

She is hit with a gust of artificial air and the scent of expensive cologne smacks her in the face. All of the men in her office wear expensive cologne because they think they’re hot shots, but only one man wears this scent. It is the scent of pure masculinity; musky and fresh at the same time. She lifts her head up and to no surprise, Lorenzo Cantacessi is standing in front of her. 

He exudes power despite not speaking a word, which is something Angelica can only fantasize taking over her on a dark night. She blinks once, then twice, and still… Silence. 

She tries to push past him to avoid any further confrontation, as she has gotten her fill for the next month, but he doesn’t budge. He stands there, stoic as ever, so tall he is looking down at Angelica.

Her baby blues flutter in fear of what might happen next. But she also cannot help her wild thoughts of how she wants this man to take her upstairs and… 

“So… About last week, ya know I’m really s–” 

“Upstairs. Now.” Lorenzo growls. 

Now Angelica is trembling. Either with excitement or fear, she can’t tell, but what she can tell is that Lorenzo is going to be the downfall of her professional life.