Gemma strode past Wesley and hailed another employee standing behind him.

Wesley felt his heart sink as the smile slowly retreated from his lips. His left hand, which had been raised halfway in anticipation of her greeting him, now hung uncomfortably in the air for a few seconds before returning to its original position at his side.

Wesley stood there in the middle of the sales department unsure of what to do. He could feel warmth rising into his face and ears and swallowed hard as if it would relieve the discomfort. He was sure that all eyes were on him, a feeling which caused a rapid increase in his breathing.

After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, but which was perhaps only a few seconds, he trod back to his desk, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

He felt rejected. Used? Perhaps that was not the correct word. Overlooked, would be a more suitable description.

They had been friends, associates, more like colleagues, he reasoned. She was only a few years older than he. Certainly no more that ten years. In reality, he finally conceded to himself, she was a sales manager and he was the receptionist.

They had once shared a conversation at the front desk about the latest episode of “Game of Thrones” and every week thereafter she’d engage him in an in-depth analysis of that week’s installment of the show. It was one of the highlights of Wesley’s Monday mornings. A farewell party for a colleague at a pub after work managed to throw them together in a more informal setting to discuss other subjects. Alcohol, and a lot of flirting, did the rest of the work.  A few hours later, it was a very satisfied Wesley that drove from Gemma’s apartment and headed for home.

He didn’t see Gemma for a week after that encounter and attempted to contact her on her mobile phone. But she remained out of office that week and so he automatically assumed she was travelling for work and was too busy to contact him.

Today was the Monday following, but she had arrived at work much earlier than usual, when he wasn’t yet clocked in at the reception desk. When he did see her later, it was a surprise. And now she was treating him like he wasn’t even there.

Perhaps that one night meant nothing to her. But Wesley couldn’t work out why it meant anything to him either. This was just one night after all.

Was it rejection he felt? Embarrassment? She hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge his presence earlier. She didn’t speak to him last week either.

She wasn’t special, he reasoned. He wasn’t one to dwell on such things. But still her actions nagged at him throughout that morning.

It eventually dawned on him that it was her apathy that bothered him so much. They had spent the night together — one night — and she had ceased all contact with him since then. To go from being colleagues, to lovers, and now to nothing had left his confidence a bit scarred, if he was honest, and he had not expected to feel like this.

He felt there was unfinished business between them, but was hesitant to proceed further. He lacked the courage to try to engage her in conversation now.

Wesley rapidly shook his head to clear his mind of these rambling thoughts and shrugged with a heavy sigh. He tried to ignore the nagging emptiness inside him and decided the best thing to do was to forget it and file this episode under “experience”.

7 thoughts on “Overlooked

  1. I think this is what annoys me about the dating game. Is if he did something wrong, without being told, there is no real way he can get better. The lack of feedback is completely annoying, lol.

    This story did turn out sweet though, because the alternative could have been much worse.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I admit I do obsess about feedback! I always want to know why and what did I do??
      I tried to be kind here to Wesley. I did have a worse ending for him, but I gave him a reprieve 🙂 Maybe the next story… 🙂


      1. It was a good ending, the best way to handle it. The worse of course being the obsessive stalker thing, which I imagine is where you thought about taking it, lol.

        Whatever the next story, I am sure it will be good. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Don’t know if there is anyone who has not felt that stomach dropping awkwardness of starting to acknowledge someone who ignored them. The hand half raised with the fear everyone noticed. You wrote it well. Sadly that is puberty in the repressed USA. Hugs


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s