I thought I was getting a divorce message in a pastel…
I want to keep the cursor fixed on the screen of my computer, with the fact that the calculation tool needs to be finished, when a computer breaks the quiet routine of the office. Before you can respond, the door is sheltered from the gold and entered and distributed with a shiny pink panadería box fitted with a white belt.
—Buenas delays, Emma! It’s here! —anunció happily, attracting the attention of the room mitad.
Some of our companions will love me with an accomplished sonrisa. Alguien whispered: “Qué suerte tienes”, probably assuming that Jake había me enviado una sweet sorpresa.
Forced a sound to accept the box, but I was reminded of the feeling of anxiety. Jake never wanted pastels at my office. No matter what, it will not matter; simply no era ese type of man. Practical. Reserved. Nunca espontáneo.
—Gracias—murmured, leaving the box sobre mi escritorio.
Hoping that the dispatcher will disappear and the sound of the office will be the usual one before you lift the tap.
The first thing that impacted me was the aroma of the vanilla glaze. Read the writing.
Cuidadosamente escritas en letras de chocolate negro sobre el glaseado rose, había four palabras que me blablaron la vision:
“I am divorced from you.”
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