But she didn’t.
She reversed the car and did a parallel parking in front of Christian’s rented apartment, her feet taking towards his door and her fingers balled into a fist. Her fist was flying in the air when the door flung open, a smiling Christian conversing on his phone. It was such a rare sight for Christian to be genuinely happy, because one reason for that was the fact he always made fun of her, but that didn’t show infinite happiness like the sight she saw today.
“Bye Tati,” he said, about to end the call as he walked straight going out of his apartment.
“Don’t call me Tati, Chrissy!” She could hear at the other end of the line Tati’s voice. It was mellifluous unlike Sam’s scratchy one. She stood rooted on the spot while Christian obliviously walked directly to where she stood,
