His Heart for Collection

His Heart for Collection

WONDERPSYCHO P.K.S · Ongoing · 51.1k Words

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Introduction

Leon is a waste collector. He collects waste from Leamington Enterprise and other commercial buildings. He's made friends in the company, interacting with them whenever he comes to collect the waste twice a week.

He sometimes interacts with the CEO whenever he's available. Everybody knows that the CEO and Leon know each other, but from where and how, they don't know.

Leon is a married man, who left his husband, home and accounting job to distress. He found his solace in the waste collection industry, where he's made friends and has a peace of mind.

This is about his life and how he tries to navigate each day that comes, with a pestering husband that won't admit the wrong he's done and trying to win him back.

Chapter 1

Looking at Vie, she seemed to be a harmless lady that liked to make jokes left and right and have people laughing their heads off. No one knew that she was actually very dangerous. Except me.

To me, she was passive aggressive, all because she wanted the attention I harbored from Drew Harimot, the CEO of Leamington Enterprise. She despised the fact that when I came to the place, I always went up to his office and stayed a mere five minutes whilst she was not even allowed. Well, she was not allowed, courtesy of me.

I had kind of convinced Drew to ban her from his office. The woman was frequenting his office like she was the mistress.

When I told Drew that, he had laughed, claiming Vie did not do that. Either way, I convinced him to ban her.

You could say that her distaste of me was justified, but really, it was not. Just because I was allowed up to Drew's office didn't mean she had the rights to hate my guts.

I had talked to the employees, smiling at their indulging stories and past times. It was time to head to Drew's to say good morning.

I still had about ten minutes before my team finished collecting the waste in the building. My team knew that when we got to Leamington Enterprise, I didn't help collect the trash bags. They knew I had friends and they understood. I was the driver afterall, and I gave them half of my salary. I didn't need the money. I had enough savings to last me. The job was only to keep me busy.

I bid goodbye to Sam, Scott, Melanie, Louise and Lizzy. I took the elevator to the tenth floor where Drew's office was.

I made it to the tenth floor where I ran into Christian, Drew's PA. He greeted me, smiling and saying Drew was waiting for me.

It's been a week since I saw Drew. We didn't interact much outside, so my weekly visits were much appreciated when I came. I knocked, and entered when I heard his faint reply to come in.

He already had breakfast ready for us. There were two styrofoam cups of coffee, with two plates filled with muffins.

"Morning," I greeted, sitting down opposite him and grabbing the muffin to eat.

"Morning, Leon. Still doing good?" he asked. His hazel eyes were staring at me with heavy concern. It would have been endearing if he didn't show that every time I came.

I glared, which was answer enough because he retreated into himself. Drew was an attractive guy, and he knew it. That was the reason Vie hated my guts so much. She thought I was here to steal Drew from her. Like he was hers in the first place.

"What have you been up to?" he asked, drinking his coffee.

I shrugged. "Not much. I've been trying my hand at painting."

"That's good. You any good?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "You know I'm not good with art. The supplies you got for me are going to waste."

"I could always keep them in the garage and when you move back in, you'll find them. No need to throw them away," he said, eyes careful when he broached the subject.

I shook my head. I was not coming back home anytime soon. There's a reason why we separated for two whole years. I was not ready to come back home or to him. "Drew, we are not speaking about that."

"Come on, Leon. It's been two years. Surely you've found whatever you were looking for!"

And that's when I knew my time was up. I stood up, then touched Drew's hand that was on the table and gave it a little squeeze. I looked at him in the eye and hoped that my eyes conveyed that I was not impressed. "I'll see you next week."

He sighed, pulling away from my hand and continuing drinking his coffee.

I grabbed a muffin and headed out. The last two years since I've job-hopped, I've been content. My job as an accountant at a finance company was the pits. It drained the joy out of me, and that in turn affected my marriage.

Drew Harimot is my husband, but we have been separated for two years now. He's kept the house of course, for in case I decided to come back home. We still keep in touch, mostly of my job.

We were married for five years before the separation. We married after finishing university. It was nothing big. Well, we eloped. I remember his parents were furious, and they made sure that we did not tell anyone that we were married. No one to this day knew of our marriage, except our families. Drew is labeled as the CEO bachelor, and he's not denied the title. That's what also drove an edge in our marriage.

He did love me, but I felt like love was not enough when he didn't stand up for me when his parents terrorized me. It was hell having in-laws like the Harimots. The lots were entitled, and looked down at anyone who didn't have the money or power to match or surpass them. Dinners at their house were always a screaming match. I didn't do much screaming, but their daughter did. What pissed me off even more was that Drew did nothing when his sister verbally attacked me. She went to the lengths to remind me how I was a gold digger, marrying her brother for the family money and all. Drew did nothing. He sat there, looking all prim and proper and eating. What kind of love was that?

We would fight when we got to our place. He always called me selfish, and an instigator. That night was the last straw. I knew he was deflecting and defending where it was unnecessary. The man didn't understand that I was his family now. I came first when it concerned our little family. I was the person he slept next to every night, woke up to every morning. I made him breakfast, and I put him first above everything. I put him first above me. But he didn't. I came last to him.

The realization hit me hard, and I had filed for divorce. I was not spending the rest of my life stuck in a marriage where my husband did not prioritise me. Even my parents knew that there were boundaries. They didn't just come barging in without informing both of us. They knew they had to be considerate. My parents were nothing like Drew's. They knew I was married and respected my marriage. They didn't make me feel like I had to choose between them and my husband. They didn't make Drew question his position in my life.

I waited for the night when we had come back to dinner from the Harimots, and we were a little civil. I waited for a night like that. When we got home, I had already packed my bags, had an apartment ready for moving in, and the divorce papers on the dining table.

I was being petty and that was what made me feel good. I wanted him to hurt.

When he walked into the house, things didn't go according to plan like I wanted them to. I had planned to pick up my bags quietly when he went to bed, and I'd slip outside and leave the house. When he awoke, he would see the papers on the table. I didn't envision his reaction. It already hurt me to leave the only man I've ever loved.

When we did get home, he saw the bags. I had left them in the dining room and didn't think he would go in there.

He had looked at me with hurt and confused eyes when he asked, "What is this?"

I told him I was leaving. When he asked why, it was like a heavy weight was placed on my chest. I was furious. He hadn't seen the papers on the table, so I grabbed them and threw them at his chest. I took his momentary disorientation and picked up my bags and left.

There was a time during our separation that I hated Drew. I hated him so much. The lack of a job and my spiraling mental health made me hate my husband when I thought about how he didn't defend me, how he always blamed me for his family's mistreatment of me and how he didn't love me right.

I think I spent a year hating him. I was a mess. I didn't go out, I didn't do anything. When I did decide to go to therapy to help me deal with my emotions and feelings and my hatred for my husband who I still loved, it helped. My therapist suggested that it would be a good idea to do activities that brought me joy. That I should job hop since I hated my accounting job. I had quit when I left my husband. Since then, I've tried many jobs and many fun activities.

It was only six months ago that I worked as a waste collector and also drove the truck that I came into contact with Drew for the first time since I left. He didn't sign the divorce papers, and we hadn't gone the legal route to separate. The hate I felt for him had dulled and I made peace with the knowledge that I will never be his priority.

And now here we are.

I stepped out of the building. The truck was at the back, and the guys were done. I climbed into the truck, with Lewis joining me. The others were at the back.

"How's Drew?" he asked, checking himself on the rear view mirror. I shrugged. They were familiar with Drew because of my familiarity with him. Sometimes he would accompany me to the truck, and have a little chat with the guys. He claimed he was assessing their character to make sure they were not a threat to me and my wellbeing.

We made stops at commercial buildings and picked up the trash bags.

When lunch neared, Carlos offered to pick our lunch from the nearby diner. I always paid for our lunches. I didn't mind. At this point, these guys brought me joy and serenity. They were the best thing that happened to me the last few months. There was Lewis, who was a recovering drug addict. He hadn't touched drugs in four years. Carlos is a family man who is struggling to find employment, and this was his best shot. He's deep in debts because of his gambling addiction. Then finally there's Jon, who is a recovering alcoholic. He claims he's recovering, but sometimes he drinks himself to shit. But they were my guys, and there was nothing I wouldn't do for them.

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