Returning to her desk after so many years is probably the most depressing two minutes of Alison's life. Those piles of paperwork that she had gladly left behind, the overbearing colleagues and that one gossip queen who never read the room before opening her mouth.
She tried to make it through the day without doing anything awkward, and the last thing she needed was for another coworker to ask what was wrong with her. Surely she'd snap or break into tears if anyone threw that question at her.
Alison couldn't open up to anyone at work about her predicament, she didn't think that anyone would believe her, especially when she still struggles to accept that she has been reborn, not on a new planet, but the same one she died in... only seven years back.
A few times during the day, Dylan walked by her desk to see if she was doing alright, and each time he asked her a question, she would respond with a subtle nod and a straight face.
"He cheated on me with Becca." These words rang repeatedly in Alison's ears each time she saw him pass by. It was hurtful and she was never going to forgive that.
Now she was back here, Alison could attempt to change that, but not as long as Alexander was still on her mind. If she were magically reborn, then it could also mean that Alexander was here as well.
"What if he remembers me just like I remember him?" She pondered, resting her fingers on the keyboard without minding the errors left on the monitor.
"He could be looking for me, I should be able to contact him somehow, think Alison, think... where can you contact him? Maybe if I go down to the Norman family company I would see him and he would recognise me."
"Al, Alison!"
The secretary's voice pulled Alison back to reality; she hadn't realised just how lost she was in her own thoughts.
"Yes?" She replied, slightly startled.
"All the papers and reports that you sent to me, none of them make any sense... it'd be like you are not even paying attention at all to what you are doing on the screen."
The young lady was visibly upset, she held out the printed copies of Alison's reports and continued to complain,
"The subheading is directed to the Norman Groups, and... and who the hell is Alexander and why does his name appear so many times on these reports?"
"What is going on?" Dylan stepped in, his gaze shifted from Alison to the Secretary and back.
"I'm so sorry," Alison muttered, keeping her head low. She couldn't remember writing or submitting any reports, almost like her body was on autopilot.
The secretary's frown deepened,
"Sorry? Sorry? " She repeated,
"Sorry is not going to fix this. I ought to have finished compiling these reports by now and submitted them to the head office. Now, I have less than an hour left... and you are telling me sorry like it's going to fix it?"
Dylan cut her off once more, his brows furrowed,
"I asked a question and neither of you could answer me?"
"Alison is the problem," The Secretary was quick to reply,
"Ever since she got here this morning she's been acting strange, like she's bereaved or something. "
While she was still speaking, Dylan turned to Alison, not sure how to deal with her. Initially, he thought that she was upset with him, but given the circumstances, he knew that there was more to it.
"Give us a moment, Becca." He instructed the secretary, and when she hesitated, he raised his voice at her,
"Are you deaf?"
Without saying another word, the secretary slammed the paper on Alison's desk and stormed out of that section, fuming with anger.
Alison looked up, her eyes met Dylan's and she looked away, immediately regretting her decision.
"What is wrong?" Dylan asked her for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the last four hours.
"Did someone hurt you? Did you lose a family member? Tell me so that I can help you."
Alison remained silent, avoiding his gaze like he was the male version of Medusa. However, it didn't last very long, because she soon felt his strong fingers grab her chin and lifted her face so that she was staring into his eyes.
"What is wrong with you!" He snapped.
At his words, a stream of tears trickled down Alison's cheek, and as quickly as he grabbed her chin, Dylan let go and turned his back.
"Take the rest of the day off," he said,
"And tomorrow too if you need it."
With that, he walked away without looking back, leaving Alison alone in her seat, heart pounding and eyes soaked with tears. She didn't even know exactly why she had burst into tears but somehow it felt like what she needed.
Briskly, she wiped the tears from her face and grabbed her purse. Alison didn't want to waste another second in this place, so she hurriedly left the building only to be stopped by Dylan's driver, the same man who had picked her up from the house earlier.
"My boss asked me to make sure that you get home safely." He said.
"I... " Alison paused, trying to find the right words to say.
"I'm not going home," she continued,
"Don't worry."
"I can take you anywhere," the man offered, running behind Alison as she attempted to walk out of the parking lot.
"You don't need to, I will find a taxi!" Alison declined, still keeping up the pace.
"But you won't find a taxi here until you get to the highway."
Alison halted. What the man said was true, and it would take her at least fifteen minutes to get to the highway from here under the scorching sun.
"Okay." She turned to face him,
"It might be a long drive."
"No problem," The man replied,
"Where do you want to go?"
Alison hesitated for a few seconds, wondering if her decision was the wisest. What if she went there and they didn't recognise her, or worse, they didn't even let her in?
"Ma'am?"
"Oh," she jerked,
"Can you take me to the Norman Groups? That is where I want to go."
"The Norman Groups, Ma'am?"
"Yes," Alison nodded.