Having found the key, she mentally made a note to clean out her purse later. With the stress of moving and the divorce always hanging around her like a personal black rain cloud, a simple thing like that had somehow slipped her mind. There was no telling how many receipts were in there by now. It was a mess she would have to remedy.
At the sound of an all too familiar voice, she dropped what she'd been searching for right back into that particular mess. It had to be a coincidence. It was merely one of her neighbors, trying to introduce himself in a manner that boasted of self assurance. She'd politely decline a little hallway chitchat, given she wasn't sure she felt up to company tonight. And her ice cream would probably melt in the middle of the conversation, anyway. That wouldn't do.
A quick glance upwards to at least say hello to her fellow fourth floor inhabitant, and Ariana's neatly planned out refusal was instantly forgotten.
Why was he here? No doubt the look of shock on her face was a mirrored image of the one on his. This could not be happening. He was always busy with his club, always, and he might as well have slept in the office. What was the use in him trying to put down roots elsewhere? Her thoughts were tainted by bitterness and she did her best to compose herself. His pick up line was now an aggravation rather than a simple introduction, her old nickname a thorn pricking at her sensibilities. How dare he call her that when he no longer had any right to do so.
Ariana was not a woman who believed in fate. Definitely not. Fate was not to blame for choosing a new home that unfortunately housed her husband as well. Correction, her soon to be ex husband. This was a cruel coincidence, nothing more.
Finding her voice, she didn't even have to try and keep the distaste from her tone. It was there automatically, though now peppered with a faint hesitancy, the shock not fully devoid from her system. She might as well have been stuck in an over-dramatic episode of Days Of Our Lives, a guilty pleasure of her mother's. Ariana found it unrealistic at best.
Unfortunately, this was realistic.
"Julian. What are you doing here?" She was still shaken and the obvious question was impulsive and more than a touch ridiculous--though no less than this entire situation. Trying on a frown (not too hard of a thing to do), she was suddenly glad she'd worn her hair pulled back tonight. Let him fully see the displeasure on her face. Maybe he'd focus on that instead of how she was trying very hard to not appear rattled. "And don't tell me you use lines like that on every woman who moves in on your floor. It's hardly enticing."