Mystery: The Coming Back: (Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Suspense Thriller Mystery) (2 page)

“What happened?” her assistant asked from the door.

“It is over,” Lydia murmured. “Alice, would you help me collect my things?” she asked with more confidence. “I think it’s time for me to change the scenery.”

The younger woman asked no more questions and helped her collect everything, clean her desk and library, copy the files on the computer and finally carry everything downstairs. Once everything was ready, Lydia wrote her an excellent recommendation and went to give her letter of resignation to the boss.

“Lydia, I understand your feelings, but don’t you think it is a bit too drastic to leave your work?” the man asked in a completely uncaring voice.

“Thank you, but my place is no longer here,” Lydia answered in the same cold voice and left the room without another word.

The long drive home gave her some time to think things over, so that when she opened the door of her apartment, she had made a few important decisions. Thankfully, Ross, the man she lived with wasn’t home, so she was able to relax alone.

The next morning, when Lydia woke up the pain was already gone. She thought about calling at work, but didn't feel this was the type of conversation to have over the phone. What was she going to say? That she didn’t care anymore about them disregarding her work? That she was going to be okay and able to create a new life for herself? As much as she wanted to believe it was so simple, Lydia was still skeptical. She had for so long tried to avidly track something big and wonderful, that now life was losing its sense without that big goal. Mostly she had lived for her work and an occasional affair. Sometimes she even made a friend. Her boyfriend, well, she still had to decide about him.

The beginning of her new life was a few days away and the thought of starting from the beginning twisted nauseatingly in her gut. She hadn't told anybody that she was afraid of getting stuck. That she feared her ability to fight had finally had enough of being put down and wouldn't let her stand up. In the moments when her colleagues had taken over, when she could smell the joy in the room and had let it slide down her throat like thick syrup, she hadn't wanted to continue. Being back down was easier, decisions had a clear-cut path. When she was out of the University, she didn't have to worry about University norms or other scientists. If something threatened her, Lydia studied it and won it over. The action was all instinct. There was an odd sort of peace about that.

It was a terrible secret to keep, but in that moment before she started, she knew her purpose, knew what her heart was telling her – she knew that it was all on her and she trusted herself to do that. She trusted herself to know when she had gone too far and to stop.

Her existential crisis could wait; nothing else mattered now except finding a new purpose in life.

Lydia found herself aimlessly wandering around in the apartment, pacing back and forth. Restless inside the white walls, she left for a walk in the city and some shopping. 

She hadn't planned on going back to the University, but she was sure she would not find peace until she did. He could smell the food from the canteen before she saw the building, and she smiled despite herself. 

"Look what the cat dragged in," Doctor Harrison said from his place at the window table. “Do you care to join me?” 

"Hi," Lydia finally said, tapping out a rhythm on the little black table. 

"Hi," Thomas agreed. "What do we do now?" 

"We do nothing now," Lydia motioned to herself and then to him. The man stayed uncharacteristically silent. 

"I'm not sure that is the best idea," he finally said. 

"What do you mean, you heard what the University said. My work is over."

"Yeah, yeah, I heard them, but…" He bit at his lip. "It's not like you to give up."

"That's never stopped you before," he countered, surprised at Lydia’s hesitance. 

"It's never been like this before," Lydia said like it hurt. She didn't need to say it out loud, as the man heard it just the same.
They rejected my life’s work. 

"It was our best shot," Thomas said, watching how her lips turned into a thin line. 

"Right… Now I am leaving." Lydia slid her hand over his, as she got out of her chair – a quick glide of skin that lasted an eternity. “I hope to see you again.”

As it turned out, Doctor Lydia Chen was right. Everyone acted as if they believed her story and the head of her department said nothing to disregard her. The only downside of the whole situation was the fact that they sent her away, to search for a job elsewhere. It was hard for her to say goodbye, but Thomas insisted it was a necessary evil.

There continued to be jokes going around the University about Lydia and her downfall, or at the very least opinions that she should have done something, and each time somebody said something, Thomas would look up, his eyes darkening slightly, and then he would grin in his or her direction and give him or her a little wink, as if he was more than interested in the idea. He had been definitely interested, but Thomas was also another professor and their relationship was something private, just between them. At least, that’s what he’d told himself initially.

It almost felt like hope, like she was waiting around for just that very thing to happen. For the University to wake up some morning and suddenly declare to itself, to Lydia, maybe even to the world, that she was important to them, has been for a long time. But, nothing happened…

The long and lonely wait made Lydia make decisions which she’d never thought of making before. She spoke with her friends, consulted her family and finally decided that there were certain things in life that required sacrifices.

Lydia walked towards the office of the Director of the Behavioral Sciences department and gently knocked at his door. The man invited her in and tried to show understanding by offering her a chair, but Lydia refused to even think about it. “I already gave in my letter of resignation,” she informed him calmly. “I know that we had our differences, but this wasn’t the way for you to show me the door.”

“What are you saying, Lydia? Did you just blame me for your own failure?” he asked, immediately getting angry with her. “I gave you all the support and money I was able to find, but as you can see it wasn’t enough. You are not good enough.”

“I cannot argue with that, Richard. I will be leaving now, but I wish you the same treatment you offered me.” This time, Lydia’s voice was cold and filled with disappointment. Something like regret passed through his eyes, but it was gone too quickly to have any lasting effect. “It is me, who is sorry for you, Richard. If this is the way you treat people, I don’t want to work with you.”

Lydia never gave him the chance to answer her and stormed out of his office. For a final time, she went to her old office and took a few small items she had forgotten the previous day. Her assistant was nowhere to be seen, but many of her colleagues took the time to pass in front of her door and even look inside. Lydia spoke to no-one and left for good her residency at the Emory University, feeling completely exhausted and defeated.

Her first instinct had been to leave. That is what losers do when they are hurt or defeated. But she wasn't just acting on instinct, and leaving would only serve to piss her off even more. So she spent more time than she wanted to admit, staring into her own soul and trying to make the right decision. Lydia didn't know what the future held for her, but she was sure she wouldn't like the answer.

Thomas had warned her emphatically about the consequences of them rejecting her work. Her boyfriend had warned her just as fiercely. Why was she so intent on not listening to them? Self-destructive behaviors are a hard thing to shake off, apparently. When did self-sacrifice become another way to punish oneself?

Not keen on spending the night alone again, Lydia went back home to search for comfort and a friendly face. She hoped Ross would understand her and give her some space to mourn the death of her dreams. At some level, what he thought was still important to her, because Ross knew her and she felt comfortable around him. He could teach her to overcome the loss, just like he taught her a lot of other things.

Lydia arrived home, however, only to find movers taking furniture and smaller items out of her apartment. “What is going on?” she asked the oldest of them, but the man only pointed her to the living room.

Ross, her boyfriend of several years was standing in the middle of the room, directing the men and pointing at the items they were supposed to carry out to the van. She watched him for awhile and thought about all the years and battles they had gone through together.

“Ross,” she called and he turned around, startled, holding a rather expensive lamp in his right hand.

“Lydia, we have to talk,” he said, after clearing his throat several times.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Lydia answered and walked towards their bedroom. Ross followed her there and closed the door, creating some privacy.

“I am leaving you,” the man she thought she would be spending her life with said. “And I am moving out.”

“You heard about the rejection of my therapy ideas,” Lydia stated, feeling sorry for herself and angry for not seeing him sooner for what he was.

“Yes, but this is not about that,” the man looked guilty.

“So, you decided to break off our engagement and not even tell me?”

“I am tired of your controlling and obsessive nature,” he told her, sounding angry. “I’ve had enough and want to live a free, uninhibited life, far away from your critical eyes.”

Lydia was not a person who you would describe as even-tempered, nor could she be described as calm. Ross had complained a lot about her nervousness and obsessive nature for years, but this was the first time he actually was trying to do something about it. Lydia tried to restrain herself, but the flare of anger was stronger than her, especially when people acted childishly or asked her inane questions. “Tried” was the thing to consider here, but she, however, did nothing to stop the burst of fury that roused her to yell at this man, who had chosen the moment when she was down to hurt her most.

“Okay, you can go then,” she almost hissed at him. “I don’t want to live with a man who uses the worst moment in my life to hurt me even more.”

“It is not like that, Lydia,” Ross protested. “It is just an unfortunate coincidence. I decided to leave a few months back, and just waited for the right moment…”

“Thank you for informing me. Now, leave!” She shouted and the men in the other room stopped moving things around.

“Don’t make a scene in front of other people,” he tried to reason with her, but Lydia only laughed at him.

“Do you really think that I care,” she shouted at him, even louder. “You humiliated me already in front of all of them. Now, it is your turn!”

Lydia made sure to make things as difficult as possible for Ross during the whole thing and even told the movers how he was leaving her without informing her first. Ross was ashamed and at one point she even saw him hiding in the bathroom, but after two hours he was gone and Lydia stood alone in her half-empty apartment.

Somewhere in New York…

The man looked at her and his heart sank, reminding him that jealousy wasn’t something he was unaccustomed to. But, she was just the perfect kind of woman to steal a man. And he was mad, really mad at him for acting the way he did. The girl was a nuisance and he simply couldn’t understand why he had to go and flirt with her. As if it wasn’t bad enough that they were almost caught twice in a lie tonight, and he had to go and make things worse by acting like a dog in love.

The younger man, about twenty-five years old, excused himself and headed towards the bathroom, stopping for a moment near the window to look outside. He watched with fascination how the lights of the city played with his hair and gave extra brilliance to his eyes. The young man, almost a boy, was beautiful and he had every intention to keep him exclusively for himself. So, he imitated his movements from before and followed him into the bathroom, looking carefully around before closing the door.

The restaurant was a very popular one and there were many people eating here every night, but today was an especially busy day. The multiple bathroom stalls were almost all empty, but the urinals were all occupied. The man-boy was standing between two older men and looking quiet distracted. He, on the other hand, opted to wash his hands in order to have an excuse to stay. He watched the other men go out one by one.

The younger man fastened his pants and headed his way, raising his eyebrows questionably and choosing to wash his hands in the basin next to the one he was using. Their eyes met in the mirror and he licked sensually at his upper lip. A faint blush appeared on the boy’s cheeks and he tried to suppress a quiet moan. He turned around and watched the last two men leave the bathroom, leaving only three bathroom stalls occupied.

He wasted no time and grabbed the younger man’s hand, forcing him into the last stall in the row. It turned out to be the one for disabled people, with a higher toilet and larger space. Good, as there was more than enough space for two big men to stay comfortably and even to do something more. The man was pleased with his choice, but the other man still had to realize what was going on. He nodded, stepping close enough that Ian, as the young man was called, found himself backing up slightly, soon getting trapped between him and the wall.

He leaned close to the other man's ear and spoke quietly. “I’m going to show you how much better I am than that bitch.” The jealousy was tangible in his voice and Ian could only hope that things wouldn’t get too messy.

“I’m not interested in her,” he tried, but he was blinded by his own rage and wasn’t going to listen to reason. He got hold of Ian’s jacket and threw him against the wall, chuckling darkly at his protest and bucking his hips forward, to inform him about the purpose of all this, in case Ian still had to get on with the program.

“You got to be joking!” Ian tried again, but then there were lips on his neck and a knee was rubbing at the underside of his thigh and…what the hell, sex was always welcome and angry sex was something quite exciting on his list. Ian felt his head fall back against the wall and moaned softly, bucking his hips forward in a desperate attempt to rub off against the other man.