We got to Mr Lucky's office (as my mum had called him) a few minutes past three in the afternoon.
His office was not too far from our house, it was just about twenty minutes ride. And my mum was a slow driver so that should count.
His office was located in an estate, but their were no security guards visible, which I found quite strange.
There were always security men in estates so I didn't know why his was different.
I was scared that someone was going to steal our new baby.
The baby being the new Toyota corolla my mum had purchased just last week after much encouragement from me.
Suddenly, I could feel Scar's presence around me but I couldn't see him.
Or maybe I was just imagining things.
While we made our way into the white one story building that housed Mr Lucky's office - the man who owned the event centre, I couldn't help but look around for Scar.
I wondered if my mind was really playing tricks on me or if it was Scar playing.
It saddened me a lot that he wasn't with me, but I had to move on like it didn't.
I wished that I had a picture of him so that I could take it everywhere with me. But he was there in my heart and it was enough.
I followed my mum up the small crooked stairs that led to the man's office.
The space up was just as small as the door we had come in through and the hallway upstairs.
His office was the only room on the small passage and it was wide open.
Mr Lucky's office was really spacious and neat, but the decorator did a whack job. I didn't know much about decorating, but I could tell that it was bad.
I stood at the door and took in the office.
There was a red arm chair at the end of the room behind a brown table where Mr Lucky sat, and two other red seats in front.
The walls were painted blue, and the ground was decorated with a red rug.
I was shocked at the kind of disorganization the room portrayed mostly judging from how dishevelled his table was.
He reminded me of the DPO.
Mr Lucky stared at me with a scowl on his face. I wondered why until I realised that I was blocking the entrance by standing at the door
My mum was behind talking to me. "Go in na Mira, did you see a ghost?" She whispered, nudging me inside.
The man already looked like he didn't like me. And that would be thanks to the inability of my face to hide my emotions except I was consciously and really trying to conceal what I was feeling.
I did not want to give him another reason to hate me more, so I walked into the office like a robot, half listening to my mum talk in a hushed tone about how God was faithful to her, and all other things she said which I didn't quite catch up with.
I was distracted with thoughts of a certain tall, scarred stranger.
Usually when he stalked me I was likely to catch a glimpse of him. We would stare at each other for a while then I would look away and smile.
But today I couldn't see him. I had felt his presence, yes, but he wasn't here.
I was getting addicted to him and he, he was loving me less everyday that passed by.
My heart sank as the thought of this caught my mind in a web of questions that elicited pain and almost evicted hope.
Has he given up on me already?
Did I bore him now with my incessant nagging?
Was he angry that I hadn't offered to make him come?
Did he think I was too inexperienced to keep him entertained?
"Don't cry Mira." I kept repeating to myself in my head, again and again as I felt my eyes well up.
You are not weak!
"Hello miss sit down." Mr Lucky said, sounding very irritated.
"Mira!" My mum called, pulling me out completely from my thoughts.
"Yess," I mumbled. "Oh I'm sorry,"
I realized then that I had been standing by the table without sitting and both eyes were on me.
God I needed to stop zoning out.