25. Shame

                                    

                                          
The next morning, Debbie awoke with a profound sense of mortification, the events of the previous night playing like an embarrassing film reel in her mind. As the reality of her actions set in, she buried her face in her hands, attempting to shield herself from the embarrassment that washed over her like a tidal wave.
The recollection of standing at Lou's door, the barely closed nightgown revealing more than intended, and the admission about the noise—all of it fueled a growing shame within her. The emotions were as raw as the morning light streaming through the window, exposing her vulnerability.
In the quiet solitude of her hotel room, she grappled with the repercussions of her actions, her mind wrestling with questions that seemed to have no clear answers. What had possessed her to confront Lou in such a manner? Why did the sight of Lou's disheveled appearance affect her so profoundly?
The emotional residue clung to her like an unwelcome companion, and as she faced the mirror, she couldn't meet her own gaze. The woman staring back at her seemed foreign, a stranger whose actions contradicted the composed and pragmatic Debbie she thought she knew.
As she prepared to face the day and head to work, each movement felt deliberate, an attempt to reclaim a semblance of control over the spiraling chaos within her.  She was furious at Lou for seemingly reveling in her discomfort, for not toning down the noise despite the obvious distress it caused. Yet, the anger concealed a deeper, more unsettling emotion—an unspoken acknowledgment of the unexpected impact Lou still held over her.
Jealousy, a sentiment Debbie rarely allowed herself to entertain, clawed at the edges of her consciousness. The idea that Lou might have found solace in the arms of another person, someone who had managed to stir the same passion that once existed between them, fueled an unsettling discomfort.
Debbie rushed into the hallway, her steps hurried and jittery, an undercurrent of anxiety coursing through her. The fear of encountering Lou loomed over her, making each corner of the corridor feel like a potential confrontation. She kept her gaze low, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might remotely resemble Lou. The weight of shame and confusion clung to her, and the idea of facing Lou after the previous night's awkward encounter sent shivers down her spine.
In the office, Debbie chose to confine herself to her space, avoiding any unnecessary encounters. The weight of shame clung to her like an invisible cloak, and the fear that her emotions were laid bare for everyone to see kept her holed up in her own sanctuary. The usual hum of office activities felt distant as she wrestled with the repercussions of her actions. She couldn't shake the feeling that her private turmoil was etched across her face for all to witness.
***
Debbie sighed as she saw Amita approaching with two cups of coffee in hand. It seemed inevitable that her self-imposed isolation wouldn't last long. Amita knocked on the door and entered with a warm smile, offering a cup to Debbie.
"Thought you could use some caffeine," Amita said, taking a seat. "Now spill, what's going on? You've been in full hermit mode since this morning."
Debbie hesitated, glancing at the coffee cup, then finally gave in. "Thanks. It's just... last night. I did something stupid."
Amita raised an eyebrow. "Stupider than the usual level of Debbie stupidity?"
Debbie gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Maybe. I went to Lou's room and complained about the noise."
Amita's eyes widened. "You did what now?"
"I couldn't sleep, and the walls are paper-thin. I just wanted her to keep it down."
Amita leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. Wait what was going on in her room ?
Debbie rolled her eyes. "She was fucking a girl. And don't give me that look, it's not like I planned to witness it."