Chapter 1

I winced, looking at my reflection in the floor-length mirror. “It won’t work,” I grumbled, pulling down the black pencil dress that Angela, my way-too-bossy best friend, made me wear.

“Why not?”

I turned around, meeting the genuine confusion on Angela’s face. “Do you really need to ask?”

She frowned. “Yes, I really do. You look stunning!” She adjusted the wide red belt higher on my waist and took a couple of steps back before sitting on the corner of the bed, crossing her long leg like a graceful Ballerina. Angela had more grace in her little toe than I had in my whole body.

I huffed with exasperation turning back toward the mirror, twisting my mouth with indecision at my reflection. The sophisticated hairdo, the smoky eyes and red lips, the red blouse and tight pencil skirt – it wasn’t me, not even a little.

“Don’t look so disgusted, it’s offensive. You said you liked the new collection and now it seems like you’d rather be caught dead than to go out in this outfit.” She sighed. “It’s great for my self-confidence.”

I rolled my eyes. “This guilt won’t work, Angela.” She was a great designer, and she knew it. She had built her own company while modeling and had been in Vogue five times both for her looks and designs before turning 30.

I sighed in rendition, turning toward her again. “Yes, I do love your new collection.” I admitted sitting beside her on the bed.

Angela’s bed was high as both she and Tom were tall. I looked down, and while my best friend’s legs were gracefully folded, they still touched the floor, mine were dangling like a child’s.

I shook my head in defeat. “I love these clothes on you, Ange. It looks stunning on a 5’10, size 4 blond goddess like you.” I ran my forefinger back and forth on the hem of the skirt which rose above my knees as I sat down. “It doesn’t look so hot on the 5’3, size 14 plain jane.”

Angela’s mouth tightened in frustration. “I’d love for you to see yourself how I see you – for once.”

“You love me,” I replied.

“I – do.” She trailed off, visibly confused about my train of thought. “You need to rewind honey and give me the cliff notes.”

This was a common occurrence with me and even after over twenty years of friendship, I still managed to confuse her. Sometimes my thoughts were going faster than my mouth and it was like jumping chapters of a book.

“I mean that your vision of me is biased because you love me. For you, I will always be beautiful.” I gave her a half shrug. “Love makes you blind, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, I am not blind! When I see you in your sweatpants, in desperate need of a shower because you and Tom spent thirty-six hours playing online for some stupid wizard quests…believe me, at that moment, you look horrendous and my husband?” She grimaced. “He puts me off for a few days.”

I chuckled, waving my hand dismissively. “You knew what you were doing when you adopted a geek as a best friend, and you joined the club when you married into geekhood.”

She tried to scowl but the smile tucking at her lips defeated the attempt. She stood up, pulling me up with her. “Anyway, any discussion on this is pointless. You promised to let me play dress-up with you for one night.”

I grimaced, pulling at that stupid skirt once more. “Yes, but it was for your 30^th birthday. You said you wanted to do a makeover. I was a bit drunk, I said yes but…” I turned toward the mirror again. “It was months ago, I’m pretty sure the statute of limitation has run out on that gift, come to think of it.”

I met her gaze in the mirror. My best friend rolled her eyes before swirling me around, keeping her hands tightly on my shoulders. “Don’t go all lawyer on me, you didn’t give me an expiration date, and tonight is the night.”

I pulled on my skirt once more. “Okay, let’s just get tonight over with.” I resigned myself to defeat.

“That’s the spirit!” Angela chirped, ignoring my sore mood. “Now, get this juicy butt into gear. You gave me one evening and I really intend to make the best of it.”

“I really intend to make the best of it.” I mimicked with a high-pitched voice following her down the stairs.

Tom and their seven-year-old son George were waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs by the door. George was already dressed up in his cute Star Wars pajamas that I’d bought him for Christmas.

“Oh, Auntie Ale, you look so pretty,” he said in awe, taking a step toward me. “You look like a girl.”

I chuckled, ruffling his thick, dark, tightly coiled hair. “Do you like me like that?” I asked, readjusting the belt around my waist.

“I always like you.” He grinned, reaching for my hand.

My smile widened. That kid was such a charmer, like his mother.

“What do you want buddy?”

He pointed behind him. “Dad bought the new Lego game today, wanna play with us?”

Angela glared at Tom who looked away with a guilty smile.

I looked longingly at the PlayStation and the bowl of popcorn. What wouldn’t I give to trade this stupid skirt for my sweatpants and play with my boys all evening?

Angela crossed her arm on her chest. “Tom, you promised to wait.” She pointed a finger at the TV. “You know our son must be in bed by 8pm.” She looked suspiciously between the two people who, I knew, were the loves of her life. These two were a team, thick as thieves.

She looked at Tom again. “He’s got school tomorrow, not everyone is on vacation.”

Tom shrugged, a small smile tugging on his wide lips. “The perks of being a university professor.” He turned toward me. “You scrub up well, munchkin.” He pulled me in one of his overwhelming papa bear hugs. “Say the codeword if you need me to get you out of there,” he whispered, only half-joking.

I chuckled, patting his back. “Don’t worry, I’ll survive Angela.”

“Hey! Hey! No! No scheming!” She broke our hug. “Come on, you’re going to wrinkle her blouse.” She sighed resting her perfectly manicured hands on her narrow hips. “Seriously, one evening!” She pointed her forefinger up. “I’m asking you ONE evening and you are being difficult.”

Tom and I looked at each other sheepishly. Ange put up with our crap all the time. All I had to do was pretend not to hate it as much as I did.

“Fine.” I sighed. “Come on, let’s go.” I looked once more at the boys and the amazing evening ahead of them. “You have fun, okay?”

Tom nodded, giving Georgie a piggyback. “Try to have fun tonight.”

I nodded. “I’ll do my best, let me know how the game is, we can maybe play tomorrow.”

“Uber’s here!” Angela shouted, and I knew she only wanted to get out of the house before I could think of a reason to stay home.

*****************

The bar Angela picked was not one of our usual hang-out spots but again, as I was not wearing my usual jeans and large shirts, I was quite grateful we went somewhere I would never go again.

I looked around; most of the customers of the bar were men in suits. “Is there anything I’m missing?”

“Nope…” Angela gave me a mischievous grin. “I’ve researched our night out for a long time, my friend. I knew it was probably my only chance to play dress-up with you, I wanted to make it count.”

“What did you do? Google ‘bars for male professionals?’”

At Angela’s slight blush, I burst into laughter. The kind of full belly, teary-eyes laugh – probably the most unattractive laugh there was, but so liberating.

“You did, didn’t you?”

Angela threw me a dark look. “No, I didn’t just…shut up.” She finished rather lamely, confirming that I wasn’t far from the truth. “I – oh, get lost. I’ll get us some drinks.”

I was still chuckling when she came back with two very brightly colored cocktails.

“What is that?” I asked, suspiciously eyeing the electric blue of the cocktail in front of me.

Angela straightened in her chair. “Won’t tell you, you dare mock your friend and expect my secrets?” She shook her head. “It’s a no from me.”

I took a sip of the cocktail, the aftertaste of pineapple, a clear tell of a Blue Hawaiian. “Come on, you’re always so perfect compared to us mere mortals. It feels so good to be able to laugh at you occasionally.”

Angela threw me her best glare before taking a sip of her drink.

My grin widened as I looked down at my drink, mixing the cocktail with the little pink umbrella.

“May I buy you a drink?” asked a deep voice. I rolled my eyes, keeping my head down. Here we go… It never took much time for men to start hitting on Angela despite the shiny wedding ring she always proudly displayed.

Angela’s pointy shoe connected not too softly with my shin.

I looked at her startled as she jerked her head to her right.

I glanced up and met a pair of amused eyes. I frowned, detailing the man standing in front of our table. He was wearing a grey suit, nothing quite uncommon about it but working with Angela for years allowed me to see that it was a perfect cut, tailor-made for this man. I looked down at his shoes, black, long, shiny … expensive. My grandma used to say that you could say a lot about a person based on their shoes and this man was breathing money. My eyes trailed up his long muscly legs, wide chest, broad shoulders, golden-brown skin, strong stubborn jaw, square chin, full, sensuous lips, straight nose, almond-shaped cornflower blue eyes, black, lustrous, curly hair.

All in all, he was a splendid male specimen and weirdly enough he was turned toward me.

“What?” I asked, oh so gracefully when I finished staring at him.

His smile widened, flashing a perfect set of straight pearl white teeth. Of course, he had perfect teeth, that man was the poster boy for Photoshop – ridiculous!

Angela’s pointy shoe connected with my shin once again. I winced and glared at her; this one was so hard I suspected I was bleeding.

“I asked if you wanted to have a drink with me,” he asked, visibly undeterred by my less-than-classy attitude.

“Why?” I asked and moved my legs quickly enough to avoid Angela’s unforgiving shoe. I smiled victoriously at her when she missed.

“Why not?” he insisted, seemingly oblivious to the silent war going on between Ange and me.

I opened my mouth but closed it again, not sure how I could answer a ‘why not’. “There is no space,” I insisted as the thought of blowing it with that guy really didn’t sit well with me.

Ange stood up, her phone in her hand. “Just take my seat for a little while, I have a couple of calls to make.”

I threw her a look I hoped conveyed both my anger and desperation. She couldn’t leave me here with Model Boy! I was barely socially functioning on the best of days, being alone with him would probably lead to nothing less than a disaster.

I was used to making a fool of myself. I’d had years of experience really but never before in front of someone so aesthetically perfect.

Oh well, there was a first time for everything. Unable to contain my sigh before sipping on my drink, I studied the stunning man sitting across from me.

He was looking back at me, his eyes lit with amusement, a shadow of a smile on his luscious lips.

I narrowed my eyes slightly. What was his end game? “You know, if you’re trying to get friendly with me to get with Angela, you’re wasting your time. I’m not easy to befriend, and Angela is happily married.”

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair, letting his long fingers travel up and down his beer bottle. “I’m sure you’re easier to befriend than you’re giving yourself credit for. As for your friend, it’s a good thing I’m not sitting here for her, because she just got into a taxi.”

I turned around so briskly I almost fell off my chair. Yeah… How to be poised. I looked around the bar and despite being busy I knew I wouldn’t have missed the lithe beauty Angela was. “I just…” I shook my head. No, it wasn’t possible – Angela knew how awkward I was in a social situation, she wouldn’t do that. “Something must have happened – She wouldn’t,” I muttered mostly to myself.

I grabbed my phone on the table, ignoring the man still sitting across from me. Why was he even still there? I was being far from pleasant.

I was about to call Angela when a text popped up on the screen. Decided to go home, everything is fine. Enjoy your evening with hunky man *wink wink*

I looked at the man still staring at me and I blushed under the intensity of his scrutiny. People never bothered giving me a second glance.

You’re so dead. I texted back before jamming the phone furiously in my bag.

His smile broadened, as he leaned closer crossing his arms on the table.

“Are you a sociopath?” I blurted before wanting to bury myself under the shame of my question. And so, it begins….

He chuckled; his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I must admit I’ve never been asked that before. Well no, I’m not, at least I don’t think so. Are you?”

I shook my head, still muted by my own embarrassment.

He nodded. “Okay, now that we’ve got that out of the way, maybe we try to get to know each other better, don’t you think? What’s your name?”

“Ale- Alessandra but my friends call me Al or Ale. Well, some call me Sandra but I’m not a fan and –” Just shut up, Ale.

He extended his hand. “Well nice to meet you, Alessandra.”

I looked at his hand, somehow reluctant to take it. I was alone in a bar with an Adonis, no friend, no safety net to get me out of this nightmare in the making. I knew my hands were probably clammy, and there was no way I would touch him.

“We already established I’m not a sociopath.” He grinned, exposing dimples. I almost wanted to roll my eyes at this little detail. Could he be more perfect?

I wiped my hand on my skirt as discreetly as I could before taking his hand, and as his soft, warm palm engulfed mine, I felt shivers go up my arm to the back of my neck.

I let go of his hand rather briskly and folded my hands on my lap, far from any temptation to see if the tanned skin was as soft as it looked.

“And what’s your name?”

It took a couple of seconds for him to answer. “Nathan… my name is Nathan.”

I frowned ever so slightly at the hesitation. Was it even a hesitation? I cursed myself, stupid work was getting to me again. Not everything you hear needs to be analyzed Ale, let it go.

“Nathan…” I repeated and suddenly his face lifted as if hearing his name pleased him.

“So, Alessandra, what are you doing as a living?”

“I’m a lawyer – I work for a fashion brand.”

“Oh, are you?” He cocked his head to the side. “I wouldn’t have expected that.”

“Why?” I pursed my lips as I felt the blush of anger hit my neck. “Is it the lawyer or the field I work in?” I shook my head, somehow not able to contain the disappointment I felt. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. Either you think I’m too stupid to be a lawyer, or I don’t look the part, either way, you’re offending me.” I grabbed my bag and stood, intending to leave and somehow feeling relieved that I decided to make an escape before making a fool of myself.

He grabbed my forearm, not hard enough to cause discomfort but with enough strength to show me that he was not going to let go easily.

“I think you misinterpreted. You’re so… luminous and funny. Not really what I imagined of a company lawyer. If I offended you in any way, I’m sorry, you are not what I expected and it was meant as a compliment even if I had to admit it was delivered quite poorly.”

His seemingly genuine contrition mollified me. I looked at him, still clutching my bag.

“Please?” he added.

“I can’t stay late.”

“One drink, I promise.” He gestured to the chair I’d vacated.

I sighed. How much trouble could my mouth get me in over the course of just one drink? A lot… a lot of trouble was the correct answer, but I sat down, anyway. “One drink.”

He nodded, his bright smile back on his face, gesturing to the barman for a round of drinks. “I just thought you would…I just thought you would be the type of lawyer to save the widows and the orphans… You seem to radiate goodness.”

I nodded, taking a sip of my drink. “I’m saving the world of poor fashion one contract at a time.” It seemed quite ironic all things considered as my idea of dressing up was to swap my ratty sweatpants for a pair of jeans and the holey tee-shirt for one of my many pleated shirts.

“The world should thank you.” He joked.

I grinned, leaning back in my chair, starting to feel a bit more at ease. “What about you?”

“Ah.” He nodded, looking down at this beer. “I’m not saving the world.”

“We can’t all be doing that.”

His smile widened. “No, I guess we can’t. I’m an architect.”

“Oh!”

His smile widened. “See, should I get offended at the look of surprise on your face?”

I tried to school my features. “No, I…” I cleared my throat. “I’ve never met an architect before, that’s all.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Your life is now complete.”

I couldn’t help but snort at his comment. Way to be sexy Ale. “It must be quite fulfilling to see your creations take life.”

He nodded. “It really is, it’s like leaving a little piece of me to the world.”

“Quite a unique way to be immortal.”

He scrutinized my face as if this statement surprised him. “It really is.”

Things went well, and I was amazed to realize after an hour that I was enjoying myself.

“It’s getting late… I’ve to go.” And I was surprised by my own disappointment.

Nathan nodded as I ordered my ride home. “Let me walk you out.”

“You don’t have to.”

He smiled again, and I started to understand that while other men might be running from my social inadequacies, this one seemed amused by them.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” He helped me with my jacket. “Shall we?” He rested his hand on my back.

I nodded mutely and let him lead me outside, unsure of what to say.

As he stood on the sidewalk, he turned toward me, burying his hands in his pockets. “I would like to see you again.” He admitted, looking down at me, his eyes slightly cocked to the right.

“Why?” I had been a social disaster; I’d done pretty much everything that Angela and every women’s magazine ever told us not to do. He should have been running in the opposing direction, not standing close to me, asking for more.

“Why?” he asked, repeating me and then he laughed, leaning back on his heels. “Well, because you are genuine, it’s refreshing. You make me laugh more than I thought was possible, even if it is despite yourself but also because you are clever, witty, inquisitive, and absolutely lovely.”

I looked down at my shiny shoes and the piece of gum fused with the sidewalk. Compliments. That was the worst, I was not used to receiving them, and I was clueless on how to deal with them.

I looked up, trying to avoid his intuitive crystal-blue orbs which seemed to read me like an open book.

I could hear Angela so clearly in my head. Just say thank you, Ale. And yet, against my own advice, I pointed a finger to my outfit. “It’s all make-up and smart clothes you know – Smoke and mirrors.”

He leaned down, so close I smelled the mix of the beer on his breath and his woodsy aromatic cologne. “You should give me more credit, love, there isn’t much I haven’t already figured out,” he whispered close to my ear, making me shiver.

I looked over his shoulder and felt a wave of relief at the Uber rounding the corner. “My car is here!” I exclaimed, taking a couple of steps back, but he followed my lead, not letting me add the much-needed distance between us.

He looked at the car and took a step to the right, blocking my view and access to the car. “So, what do you say Alessandra? Lunch, you and me, tomorrow.”

“If I say yes, will you let me get into the car?” I fidgeted.

He brought his hand up and crossed his heart. “Scout’s honor.”

“I don’t really think it’s how it’s done.”

“I don’t know.” He grinned leaning down. “I’ve never been a scout.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. I liked how, despite my nervousness and inadequacies, he still managed to make me feel at ease, at least as much as ease as I ever felt in the company of an attractive member of the opposite gender. “Yes.”

He rocked back on his heels. “One more thing – Can I have your phone?”

I tightened my hold on it, my phone was pretty much an extension of my person.

He raised his hands in surrender. “I just want to give you my number and call for you to have mine.”

“Oh yes that makes sense.” I was grateful for the low lighting in the street hiding my embarrassment. “Of course, we have to exchange numbers!” Basic and yet… I sighed.

As his smile wavered, I understood that he mistook my sigh for a sign of reluctance. “It’s alright. Take my number and send me yours if you feel like it.” He reached in his pocket and scribbled his phone number on the back of the bar receipt. “I’ll be waiting for you at 12:30 at Urban. I really hope you don’t change your mind.”

I shoved the piece of paper in my pocket as he moved out of the way.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked again as I opened the car door.

I looked at him for a minute, somehow still expecting it to be a joke, a dream, or even some kind of vivid fever-induced hallucination, but no, it was real – this more-than-gorgeous man wanted to spend time with me.

“Yes, see you then.”

Much later that night, when I was safely in my comfy bed in my favorite flannel pajamas – I kept thinking about the evening and Nathan.

“Nathan…” I let the name out as if to break the spell. I reached for my phone on the nightstand and stared at my new added contact still unsure of what to do. I ran my thumb on the smartphone screen over his name. I’d never been good at opening up to people, letting them in was the best way of getting hurt and I had been hurt enough for one lifetime.

It’s only your number Ale – not an organ. I knew it was a bit late to send a text, but he was the reason for my sleeplessness and therefore deserved to be woken up.

You can call me Ale. I texted, not sure of what else to say.

The answer came seconds later, before I even got a chance to put the phone back on the nightstand, at least it was good to know that he was as restless as I was.

See, befriending you was easy. See you tomorrow Ale 😉

Chapter  1 – Amber

I jolted awake due to the wailing of the infant in the Pack ‘N Play beside me.  Rolling over in my single bed, I looked at the clock. It was already 5:00 am. I had to be up in an hour anyway.

I yawned, stretching my sore back, trying my best to fight my urge to fall back asleep. I turned and stood up, looking at Timmy for a couple of seconds before picking him up. “Someone’s hungry.” I smiled at him.

His cries never bothered me. I cherished them – every single one of them because I knew I could lose them at any moment. Timmy’s sick heart could give in and take him away from me, so every minute with him was precious.

I rocked him gently as I went to prepare his bottle. My smile vanished when I realized how little formula was left. I would only have enough for today… But that had to be a problem for later. Right now only Timmy’s feeding mattered.

I prepared his bottle, mixed his heart medication in, and, as usual, got lost in his beautiful, emerald eyes as he drank. Eyes so similar to his father’s. A father he had never met and never would as Eddie had died seven weeks before Timmy’s birth. .

“It’s going to be fine, my boy,” I whispered, trying to convince him as much as myself.

Once I’d finished his feeding, I changed his diaper and prepared his diaper bag.

I only had enough formula for his next three feedings. I checked my wallet. I had five dollars. And my online banking was not looking good either – only twelve dollars remained. That wasn’t even enough to buy the small can of his special sensitive formula.

Trying not to despair, I looked around my tiny studio flat which despite being smaller than a shoe box was painfully bare. I’d sold everything I could recently which wasn’t much. Now, I realized that I’d actually reached the bottom of the barrel.

The little boy was asleep again. With his chin being slightly dimpled and his hair a soft dark brown, he was a painful reminder of Opal – and consequently myself.

Yawning, I made myself a cup of tea.  I then looked around the cupboard for food, but they were as empty as I’d expected them to be.

Sighing, I made a second cup, hoping that it would lessen the pain of hunger.

Looking at myself in the bathroom mirror, I tightened my long, dark hair into a ponytail. The light was not flattering for sure, but even it couldn’t account for the haggard image staring back at me. The deep, dark circles. The bloodshot eyes. The pale skin and gaunt frame. Looking at myself, I blinked back tears. How had this all happened? When had I become that girl terrified for the next bill to come in the mail or the next shut-off notice to appear on her front door?

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, I didn’t have the luxury to break down. I had a job to go to and a sickly, six months old baby to take care of.

I changed into my itchy, polyester uniform – a green, ill-fitted shirt, black skirt, and green apron. Then I  slid on my overused, black sneakers .

I walked back into the room and sat on the bed, looking at Timmy playing silently in his bed, chewing on his Sophie La Girafe, a generous present from Dee – one of so many.

I smiled when his eyes connected with me. Once again I felt that overwhelming wave of love that made every sacrifice worthwhile.

“Everything is going to be fine, baby boy, you’ll see.” I checked his day bag once more, which basically consisted of his bottle, the leftover formula, a few diapers, and the most critical item – his heart medication.

Picking Timmy up from his Pack ‘N Play, I kissed his head. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply. I knew it would not last, but it was the best smell in the world.

“Okay my boy, be good to Aunty Dee, won’t you? I’ll be back as soon as can.”

Timmy cooed and grabbed at my cheek. I interpreted that to mean, ‘Cool, Ma. We’re good’

I took the stairs to the next floor up and knocked softly on Dee’s door just in case her husband was still asleep. He’d just finished a nightshift at the hospital, working as a nursing assistant, so I felt quite guilty standing there. But Dee had assured me he slept like a log.

Dee opened the door with a wide smile as if life had always been kind to her.

“How is it that you always look like a supermodel and I look like a hobo reject?”

She laughed. Her red lips were striking against her Espresso brown skin.  “It comes with the job, honey. Ain’t nobody want their beautician to look like a mess.”

She said that, but Dee had always looked like a Nubian Queen – even when she’d been working as a prostitute.

Dee had quit the streets  seven years ago, just a couple of years after Opal had started.

Dee had met Raoul and married him before obtaining her beautician license.

She has  been a mother hen to all the street girls since then and very much a mother figure to me since I’d moved with Opal at the tender age of eleven.

“You look tired, my girl,” she said with concern as she took Timmy from me. “I really don’t like this look on you.”

“Way to tell me I look like shit. Thanks, Dee.” I tried to diffuse her concern with a joke; it was better than bursting into tears. My state of worry and tiredness was bringing me closer and closer to the edge of a mental breakdown.

She narrowed her eyes, her lips pursed. “We need to talk, sweet girl.”

I’d known this was coming. It was a discussion we’d had a few times already. How Opal wouldn’t have wanted this life for me.

Well, I’m sure Opal hadn’t planned on getting knocked-up by Eddie, her heroin-addicted boyfriend, who even if he’d had a kind heart, had been a train wreck. I was also sure she had not planned on dying from sepsis a week after giving birth, leaving me as the sole guardian of a baby boy born both with a heart defect and a drug addiction and yet, here we were.

I sighed. “Yes, but not now I need to get to work.”

She nodded. Looking at Timmy, she ran her long red nails across his tummy, making him giggle.

“I love this little one, you know,” she added, still looking at him.

“Yes, I know. Thanks again. I know helping can’t be easy; I really appreciate it.”

She smiled up at me, but her whiskey-colored, kohl surrounded eyes suddenly turned sad. “We’re family. I’d lost one of mine when we lost Opal. You’re family, sweet girl. I saw you grow up. There’s no shame in asking for help.”

I looked down, rubbing my arms self-consciously. “I know that. Anyway, I really have to go. I can’t miss the bus. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Take your time. My clients never mind this little one’s interruptions. They are mothers too, so they understand.”

I had to run to the bus stop.  I caught it just as the driver was closing the doors. It took almost four stops for me to catch my breath; I really was taking being unfit to a whole new level.

“Ah, here you are, sunshine.” Rodrigo, the old Puerto Rican chef, smiled and pointed to a plate full of eggs, bacon, and waffles. “I made a mistake on an order. Why don’t you eat it?”

I blinked back tears. We both knew it hadn’t been a mistake. This would probably be the only real meal I’d have all day. I couldn’t be more grateful for this man. He looked stern and unapproachable, but he had the biggest heart a man could probably have.

“You’re fading away, Mami. You need to eat more,” he whispered as I shoved half of a waffle into my mouth.

I nodded. I would if I could, I thought, but Timmy’s needs came first – always and forever.

Rodrigo looked at me as he flipped some bacon. His chef hat perched crookedly on his head. I didn’t like being a source of worry for him. He had a wife and a son in college; he didn’t need to worry about poor little Amber Collins.

Putting the last piece of crispy bacon into my mouth, I savored the sensation of a full belly – something that was rarer than I cared to admit or think about. Jumping up from my spot on the counter, I gave him a kiss on the cheek and straightened his hat. “Thanks again for everything, but things are getting better.” How could I even say that with a straight face?

I put my bag in my locker and clocked in on my punch time card. I was about to walk onto the floor when Denny exited his office.

“Amber, could I see you in my office for a minute, please?”

I looked at the clock. The morning rush hour was about to start. It was the best time for tips; I couldn’t afford to miss any of it.

He seemed to understand my conflict because he gestured me in. “It will only take a minute. Just come in, please.”

I nodded as if I had a choice. Denny was fair, but firm and didn’t tolerate any disrespect; it was all I could really ask for from a boss.

“Amber, I noticed the schedule has been changed and you’re covering for Maria tomorrow.”

I frowned, sitting in the seat he’d just gestured me to. He’d never minded that before. He has always said that as long as he has coverage, he doesn’t care who does what. “Yes. She has to help her sister with some wedding arrangement. I don’t have a problem covering for her.”

“You don’t, but I do. Amber, you’ve been working for me for how long? Two years?”

I nodded.

“But recently, I’m worried about you, kid. The other staff is too.”

“I’m doing a good job!” I exclaimed. “I’m a good waitress.”

“You are, probably the best I have, but you are walking a fine line. You are so thin and tired. No amount of makeup can hide that.” He shook his head. “You’ve worked twenty-three days in a row. If you keep on going like this, you’ll get sick, and then you won’t have a job and I won’t have my best waitress.”

“Yes, but -” How could I even ask him for a pay advance now?

He raised his hand. “I understand that life has not been kind to you recently with your sister passing away and her sick kid becoming your charge, but think about him for a minute, if you don’t want to think about yourself. What will happen to him if you get too sick to take care for him? Who would care for him then? He’ll end up in the system and that’s not a place for a kid, let alone a sick one.”

I looked down at my hands. Denny was an orphan that ended up in the social system, somewhere I would have ended myself if it hadn’t been for Opal.

“But – ”

He shook his head. “No, Amber. This isn’t healthy, so you’re going to take this -” he slipped an envelope toward me – “and then take tomorrow off.”

I took the envelop and looked into it to find $200. I had to blink back tears. “I don’t want charity.” Why was I saying that? I didn’t have the luxury to refuse, especially since I knew I would have to apply for food stamps in the very near future.

“It’s not charity, trust me. Someone left it as a tip on your table last night.”

I rested the envelope against my chest. “Thank you.”

He shook his head. “Now go and do your shift, and I better not see you until Thursday, okay?”

“Okay, thank you. Really.”

He grunted, looking down at his desk, clearly dismissing me.

I walked into the kitchen a little lighter. I tucked the envelop into my apron pocket before looking at Rodrigo, who was giving me a knowing smile.

“Was that you?” I whispered as I stopped beside him and pointed toward the office.

He shrugged. “He just needed a reality check.”

“You’re good to me.”

“You deserve it. Now go; the room is filling up.”

For once, my shift was enjoyable. The tips were generous and combined with the “tip from last night,” I was ready to leave with a total of almost $240! I could pay the electricity bill, buy a couple boxes of formula, a big bag of diapers, and enough ramen noodles to last me a week. I could probably even indulge in a couple of Mars bars too.

“I’ve heard Denny’s put you on house arrest for two days.”

I cringed at the voice of Zack, Denny’s nephew. He was a self-entitled asshole who was supposed to be working here in order to learn about values, but who would never do.

I turned around with a fake smile. Zack was only a few months younger than me, but he acted like an immature teenager. He’d never had any issues in his life, and though that was good, it meant that he had no idea about what life was really like.

“Ah, well you know, it’s okay. Thanks for the concern.”

He leaned against the wall beside me, his red hair falling in front of his eyes. A grin that didn’t predict anything good, appeared on his lips.

“Maybe I can help you with that. I have a job for you.”

“Okay…” I trailed off. I was not against making a little more money, but working for Zack was not that appealing.

“Yeah. So I have this party this weekend, but have nobody to take. I’ll pay you $300.”

I frowned, grabbing my bag and holding it against my chest like a barrier. “You’re a decent looking guy. I’m sure you don’t need to pay anyone.”

He shrugged. “I just don’t want to work too hard for the after soirée. With you, I’m sure to get what I want.”

I froze, ice settling in my stomach. “Excuse me?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Ah, come on. I know what your sister’s job was. It has to run in the family and I’m sure you can use the money.” He sighed. “Okay, I’m ready to go up to $400 if you let me shove it up your ass.”

Bile rose in my throat at the thought of having sex with him or anyone for that matter, especially for money. How did he find out about Opal? And was it like this for her? Was she propositioned even when she didn’t want to be?

“No.”  How had he ever thought I’d agree to this?

He arched his eyebrows in surprise. “Why?”

I snorted. “Why?” I shook my head. “I’m not even sure what to say. My sister’s career choice was made out of desperation, not pleasure. Besides, what she did, does not define me.”

“Of course, it does. Your sister was a whore and I’m sure it won’t take much more for you to be as well. It’s in your blood.”

I was a breath away from kicking him in the nuts, my job be damned, but then he moved from his spot.

“Just think about it.”

He walked away nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just insulted me, and in his head, he probably hadn’t.

I took a deep breath. Water off the duck’s back. Water off the duck’s back. I repeated the mantra as I forced my anger away.

After taking the bus back to North Philadelphia, I walked to Walmart.  I bought all I needed and breathed a little lighter when I managed to pay my electricity bill, knowing that the lights would stay on for at least another month.

I was looking forward to getting some sleep the next day; I could even take a nap. I smiled at the thought – sleeping and eating – two wonderful things so many people took for granted.

I carried the bags back to my flat, then took a quick shower to get rid of the greasy smell of work before going to pick up my little boy.

I texted Dee to let her know I was on my way up. I didn’t want to interrupt her if she was with a client.

“Timmy is sleeping,” she said, inviting me in. Her apartment was probably three times the size of mine. She had two bedrooms, one of which she’d transformed into a treatment room.

She is the reason I got the studio apartment I lived in.

I used to live in the Badlands, North Philly’s roughest area, with Opal. We had a place in a building full of prostitutes and drug dealers. It was not uncommon for us to come home to blood stains in the corridors.

When I turned eighteen, Opal had decided to leave. I’d come back from school to find a note saying that she had decided I was old enough to take care of myself and that she needed to go take care of herself. I couldn’t blame her, really; she had sacrificed a lot for me. But then a few of her dealers had come knocking at my door, requesting me to pay for her debts either with money or an alternative payment.

When I’d missed a payment/refused, one of them had tried to force himself on me. That day, Lady Luck had been on my side, all things considered. I had managed to escape, running the seven blocks to Dee’s place with a bloody nose, a swollen lip, and a ripped tee shirt. She had never let me leave.

After convincing the landlord to rent the minuscule studio flat to me at a discount, which she’d accomplished by offering to provide his wife with free treatments for the year/life, Raoul had left to pack up my stuff.

I’d managed to go to community college, taking night classes as I worked at Denny’s. Things had started looking up until Opal and her boyfriend had shown up at my door. She was four months pregnant then and trying to get clean. Eddie was high, but kind.

“Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, I was thinking about Opal.”

She sighed. “That’s the problem, sweet girl. You have a hard time asking for help.”

“The tips at Denny’s was good today, and I’m off for two days.”

She nodded. “Okay, then you know what you’ll do? You’ll drop the kid off here in the morning and then go enjoy a you day.”

“A me day?” I eyed her curiously. “How -“

She chuckled. “Just be the kid you still are. Go to the cinema, the museum, grab some junk food.”

“But – “

She shook her head. “No, just one day. You’ve been a full-time mother for six months. Just take one day. Selfcare is not a luxury, sweet girl; it’s mandatory.”

“I need to go to the hospital tomorrow. I need to get Timmy’s meds renewed. It’s always -”

She shook her head. “Nice try, but Raoul will get them for you. He said he can get Timmy enrolled in the permanent program of renewal. Why didn’t you ask him to do that earlier?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was using you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. You’re probably the most selfless person there is. Raoul has been working there for over twenty years. Now let me make you a hot chocolate with whipped cream and extra marshmallows”

“Thank you.” I beamed. When I was with Dee, I felt like a kid again. It felt nice; her maternal vibe was like a balm on my weary heart and I loved her like my own blood.

“Oh, the white bag on the console is for you,” She called from the kitchen

“Dee…”

“It’s not from me. Tasha dropped off my cosmetic order earlier and brought that bag for you. She said your marketing plan was working well.”

Looking in the bag, I found a bottle of Victoria’s Secret body lotion, numerous tubes of lipsticks, nail polish, and a few other frivolity items. I  would not be able to afford any of it if it wasn’t for Tasha and her store.  I usually traded my two years college experience in Marketing for free goods.

“You deserve it, you know,” she said, coming back with the hot chocolate and two pieces of pie. “You’re good at it. Since you started helping me, my clientele has increased by fifty percent.”

I shrugged. “It’s nothing special.”

“Yes, it is, and you should finish your degree or get a better job.”

I sighed. “Denny understands Timmy’s situation. He knows that sometimes I might not be able to come in and on zero notice, but maybe after Timmy is better, I’ll go back to school.”

“You know, Raoul and I’ve talked about it and you only have a year left. We could -”

I raised my hand. “No, absolutely not! Never.” I shook my head. “You keep your hard-earned money. Please, don’t. It would break my heart.”

She sighed. “At least stay for dinner? I made jambalaya.”

I lit up. Dee was originally from Louisiana; her Cajun food was out of this world.

“You don’t have to ask twice!”

Once Timmy fell asleep after dinner, she painted my nails a vibrant red. I sighed with contentment on my way back to my studio. My belly was full and a sleepy Timmy laid in my arms.

I laid Timmy down for the night and smiled at his peaceful face. Today had started out quite darkly, but it had brightened in ways I hadn’t expected it to.

Maybe things have finally started to turn around, after all.

Chapter 1:

Today had been a shitty day. I had to go visit Grand Mere in Neuilly. I had to listen to her go on endlessly about my mandatory attendance to the Debutante ball in the Spring to choose a conventional spouse. I was only twenty, but I was not dating enough; people talked and my grandmother wanted to shut them up.

‘Gays are abominations meant to populate hell,’ she had spat one day when one of the aristocrats close to our family had revealed his homosexuality. If anybody in my family was such a creature, they would be cut off from everything.

I sighed again at the memory. That was the issue wasn’t it? I was what she hated the most and ironically, I was her favorite grandson. I looked around my thousand square feet, state of the art apartment in one of the most prized neighborhoods of Paris. The problem was I liked the money too much. I liked the easy life and nothing had yet come to trump that – even though keeping my secret was slowly killing me inside.

I sat on the windowsill of my third floor two-bedroom apartment on Boulevard St. Germain and looked at the busy Parisian street illuminated by tens of different colors. The cheerful Christmas lights almost managed to make you forget about the grayness of Paris in winter.

I sighed, letting my eyes wander, following a woman with a red coat. She pulled a reluctant child down the street, trying to dodge the people with their arms full of their Christmas shopping.

I shook my head. That was the masochist part of Christmas, whether here in France or back in the US. I’m sure Tay was experiencing the same in England. People always waited until the last few weeks to do their shopping. Me? I did my shopping online because contrary to popular belief, I’d never been a fan of crowds.   

As I took a sip of my Midnight Mint hot chocolate, my phone rang to the familiar tone of ‘Shake it off’, the ringtone assigned to Taylor Oppenheimer, my best friend, my person, my soulmate in so many ways. The girl who did everything to help me, including faking a relationship with me.

I smiled. “Lover.”

“Are you drunk?”

I chuckled, “Not yet, no, but the night’s still young, and I got double the dose of crème de menthe in my hot chocolate, so…one can hope.”

“Long day?” she asked and the concern in her voice was clear.

I rested my head against the wall and closed my eyes.

“Yeah. The exams were harder than anticipated and I’m just tired.”

“Okay.” I knew she didn’t believe me, but she knew me well enough to know when she needed to quit.  “I’m returning your missed call. Also, who does that? Cold call people? We text man! We’re not fifty.”

I chuckled. “I missed your voice.” I said it as a joke, but it was true. I knew a lot of people here. Actually, I was rarely alone, but I sometimes felt very lonely, terribly so. Taylor was one of the only people who saw past most of my walls, and it made her so unique, so important to me. I loved her truly.

“What do you need?” she asked as I heard her bounce on a bed.

“Now that exams and classes are done, I was wondering when you’re planning on flying home, so I can take the same flight. Heathrow, right? So we can suffer traveling like paupers together.”

She chuckled. “You know that travelling first class is not pauper, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “But it’s not a long-haul private jet either, is it?”

“I’m going back on the twenty-third. I’ve got an internship.”

“Oh, Do you? Is this internship called ‘avoiding Archibald Forbes’?”

She was silent for so long on the other end of the line that I would have thought she’d hung up if it wasn’t for the soft music in the background.

I took another sip of my now luke-warm chocolate and looked out of the window again. A couple exited the Brasserie across the street, hand in hand.

“It’s been two years, Tay. You’ll have to face him one day.”

“I have an internship,” she replied stubbornly, but I knew better. She had managed to dodge returning to Stonewood for the past two years. She’d convinced her family to come spend the holidays with her the year before, and subsequently, she’d spent the summer with them on a rented yacht touring the Greek Island.   

“You’re full of shit.”

She snorted. “Look who’s talking.”

I nodded. “Touché.”

“I didn’t mean that,” she corrected almost immediately. “You do what you need to do, A. I’ll love you always.”

“I know, babe, likewise.”

She yawned and I smiled tenderly. I could picture her balled up on her king size bed, listening to some cheesy music like Redhead sheeran. “Speak to you soon, lovely. Thanks for calling back.”

“Anytime.” She yawned again. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” I replied softly, but the line was already dead.

I spent the next couple of hours looking for flights home, but knowing that Tay would not be coming back with me left me unmotivated to really try. I’d seen my friends recently anyway. Caleb and Esme had stayed with me a few days during the Thanksgiving Break as Caleb had wanted to show her Paris. Archibald had come with,  albeit really sullenly because every time he came, he failed to see Taylor .

I sighed again, looking around my empty apartment. The silence and loneliness of the place was deafening…overbearing.

Was this what my life was bound to become?

“Fuck that shit!” I muttered, changing from my PJs to a pair of skinny jeans, tight shirt, and leather jacket.

Tonight I wouldn’t wallow in self pity. No, tonight I was going out, drinking, and fucking in that order.

And tomorrow? I couldn’t care less about tomorrow.

Chapter 1 – Violet 

“I’m not sure I’m following.” I breathed slowly as I fidgeted in front of Mr. Reynolds’ desk.

He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, his round face much redder than usual. “Well, I’m not sure what there’s to follow here,” he snapped defensively. “This was a six-month training program. The six months are over, so you are not needed anymore.” He pointed at the door behind him. “Turn around and leave.”

Of course, he expected me to bow my head and leave. I was non-confrontational; I always followed every rule and every command to stay under the radar, to make sure I wasn’t too much of a burden on my mother. I just remained like that, even after her passing.

He expected for me to just walk away because he was the marketing director and I was the assistant of his assistant, but it was time for me to put my foot down. It was time for me to ask why, once again, I was losing the little something I had worked so hard to get.

I had nothing left to lose.

Please, God, cut me some slack. I really need a win.

“Sir, I’m sorry to insist, but when we were brought into this apprenticeship program, we were told that the best performer would be offered a permanent position. I’ve been assured through the monthly assessments that I would be offered this position. Mrs. Taylor even asked me to come back this morning to sign my contract and start the permanent position.”

His face grew redder as he adjusted his position on his seat, his imposing belly squeezing against his desk as he leaned forward. “Things change every day in the corporate world, Ms. Murphy. You would know that if you’d tried to educate yourself and didn’t drop out of school at sixteen.”

I inhaled sharply as I took the verbal blow. That one stung more than I expected, especially based on the reason I left school as young as I did.

It had never been my choice—no, it had been just another good thing life had stolen from me.

I blinked and looked down, having lost the small fire of injustice that had been burning—what had driven me to fight for myself.

He sighed. “Listen, companies are going through restructuring all the time—the position that once was to be filled doesn’t exist anymore.”

A flash of red in the corner of my eye attracted my attention, and I looked out the glass office wall to see Mr. Reynolds’ niece sitting at what was my desk for the past few months.

“I see…” I trailed off, too defeated to even try. It was nothing I had done, nothing the company had really done; it was just a simple case of nepotism.

He followed my eyes and glared at his niece, who gave him a sheepish smile before she twisted toward the screen.

Should I feel better that he wanted to hide this from me? Was it to preserve my tender feelings or to make sure I wouldn’t make a scene?

He sighed. “Listen, Violet.”

Ah, it was Violet now, was it? He obviously knew I was bright enough to catch up on the situation.

“You were good, very good even, and you’re not leaving empty-handed. We—” He looked around his desk and stopped on the leather-bound corporate checkbook. “If you’d let me finish before, you’d know that we decided to grant you a gracious, two-week bonus to thank you for all your hard work. Also know that should any entry position become available, your name will be at the top of the list.”

I looked at him as he grabbed the book and wrote me a check. Gracious? This apprenticeship barely paid minimum wage, and I had to work a few nights a week at the dry cleaner down the street just to make ends meet.

I was supposed to start a job today where my salary would have been forty-five thousand dollars a year. Nothing to write home about for most people, but for me… it would have changed my whole life.

Instead, I would leave with broken dreams, wasted time, and a check for… I extended my hand to grab the white piece of paper he extended and read the amount. $932.15?! Was he serious? I looked up at him. That asshole even took out taxes!

“This experience is invaluable, Violet. You’ve spent six months working for one of the biggest real estate companies in California. It’s not negligible, you know, and I’m willing to provide you with a stellar reference should you ever need one.”

I knew what he was not saying. Leave without making a scene, and I’ll help you.

I looked down at the check again. Lord, how I wish I didn’t need the money. That I could just crumple it up and shove it so deep down his throat he wouldn’t be able to breathe anymore.

I recoiled. Where did that even come from? I was not violent, never had been, but this compulsion…

It’s in your genes.

I shook my head and blinked as tears burned the back of my eyes.

“I… Yes, thank you, sir.” I was thanking the man who probably stole my only chance to make it out of my situation, just to give the job to his spoiled niece, who only wanted it as a whim or as a punishment.

“Don’t mention it. I wish you all the luck in the world.”

I nodded silently, completely exhausted and out of words, and turned around to leave.

“Violet?” he called just as I reached the door.

I turned my head toward him, hope blossoming in my heart against my own advice. Maybe he realized it was unfair, maybe he found a solution. Maybe he just—

“Don’t forget to leave your badge with security downstairs.”

My heart plummeted once again as shame at my own stupidity joined my other raging emotions.

I should have known better… When did life really cut people like me some slack?

I pulled the strap of my thrift store handbag higher on my shoulder and walked down the corridor with as much dignity as I could muster, trying to respond to the small, sad smiles people were giving me along the way.

Sandra, an assistant for the finance department, snuck into the elevator just as the door closed on me.

“It’s bullshit!” she spat, her cheeks red and eyes shining with a self-righteousness that somehow made me feel both better and worse.

“What is?”

“Everything!” She made a wide gesture with her hands, forcing me to take a sidestep to avoid getting poked in the eye by one of her sharp, pointy nails. “That fucking old pervert once again fucked this company by hiring one of his backward relatives, and no one bats an eye,” she huffed. “I swear, that man knows something to get away with that much shit.”

I agreed with her, of course. I had seen a lot of shit in the past six months, including the leering looks he had no place giving young women barely in adulthood, but I was not in the mood to fuel the fire. I was angry, yes, but mostly sad and tired, which all wrapped up in an overwhelming sense of defeat and doom.

“It is what it is.” I shrugged, willing the elevator to make its way down just a little faster.

It is what it is… The story of my life.

“I’m going to be fine; I’m not worried.” Maybe if I said that enough, I’ll believe it. I sighed with relief as the elevator beeped, announcing my destination had been reached. “You better go back up now before you get into trouble. See you around,” I added, quickly exiting the enclosed space, tightening my hold around the plastic pass in my hand, feeling it bite painfully in my palm.

I stopped by the white reception desk and met Reginald, who gave me the same sorry eyes as they did upstairs. He was from the same part of town as me, so he knew the extent of the opportunity that had been stolen from me.

“I’m sorry, little one,” he said soothingly, resting his big hand on top of mine.

I looked down at his gentle gesture and my shaky composure cracked, letting a few burning tears escape.

Reginald was a gentle father figure who had been showing me nothing but kindness since my first day here and had managed to make me feel comfortable when I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“You’re twenty-one, baby girl; you’ll get back on your feet. I know you will.”

I sniffled, still keeping my eyes down, looking at my few tears shining on the white counter.

He squeezed my hand. “Let me call you an Uber; you deserve it. The company owes you this ride.”

“Thank you.” Normally I would have said no, fearing he would get into trouble.

But I didn’t feel like making the thirty-five-minute, two-bus trip back home wearing an itchy dress and the uncomfortable heels I bought at the charity shop down the street to help me look professional.

I had felt like a fraud all the way here, and now, on top of a fraud, I felt like a failure.

“The car will be out in a couple of minutes.”

“Thanks, Reginald… for everything.”

“You’re welcome, little one. Don’t be a stranger.”

I walked out, deciding to wait for the car outside, hoping the warm sun would help me feel a little better.

I got my phone out and called Jake. I needed my boyfriend right now. I needed him to make me feel better, even if he had warned me from the start not to get my hopes up.

The phone went straight to voicemail. He was probably in ‘the zone,’ working on some of his freelance projects.

I sighed, putting the phone back in my bag as a green sedan slowed and stopped in front of me.

“Car for Violet?”

“Yes, thank you.”

I sat in the back and instead of giving him my address, I gave him Jake’s. He lived much farther from the downtown area and somehow, the small pettiness of knowing this ride would cost them double to take me there, instead of my small studio apartment, made me feel a little better. I was sticking it to the man—even if it was for a meager thirty dollars.

Jake didn’t live in my run-down neighborhood. He’d managed to escape and take a few steps up the ladder of life and live in an area with fewer guns than people. He ‘made it,’ as he loved to repeat every chance he had.

I was sure he could take a break from his current project and make me feel better. I closed my eyes and leaned against the headrest, letting the car vibrations lull me and relieve some of the stress.

I couldn’t help but wince at the thought of going back to work at Sunset Strip, the supposedly ‘high-end’ gentlemen’s club that was harboring the same type of perverts as cheap strip clubs had, except clients had thicker wallets… and blacker hearts.

I sighed, opening my eyes and meeting the driver’s curious gaze just before he looked at the road again.

I could already picture Liam’s smirk when I go back and ask for my barmaid job back. How he would give me part two of the speech he gave me when I told him I was leaving. He would tell me, yet again, that Sunset Strip was a family and you don’t just walk away from your family. Then, in his magnanimous kindness, and in memory of his father and my mother, he would give me my job back.

I couldn’t help the little grunt of annoyance that escaped my mouth at the thought.

“You belong here, Violet, like your mother. Why are you trying so hard to make it out?” Because I didn’t want the same life she had; because she wanted nothing more than for me to make it out. Because I owed it to her to try my hardest.

“Hello? Miss?”

My eyes shot open and I looked out of the window, startled to have been nudged out of my thoughts.

I stared at Jake’s small bungalow across the street, trying to regroup my thoughts and composure, at least long enough to tell him everything.

”Is it the wrong address?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the irritation in his voice.

“No, I’m sorry.” I shook my head and opened the door. “It’s right, sorry.”

He mumbled something under his breath, and I’d barely closed the door behind me before the car had shot off.

I crossed the street and stopped on the sidewalk, frowning at the small red car parked just behind Jake’s Volvo.

It was quite a popular little car, yet something made me take a few tentative steps toward it as a bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

My frown deepened as I noticed the pair of mini red stilettos dangling from the rearview mirror. It might have been a very common car, but that keepsake? It wasn’t.

This was Serena’s car. Serena, my supposed friend and one of the most popular strippers at Sunset. Serena, who lived on the other side of town and who had only met Jake twice before.

I turned toward the house and walked slowly as the bad feeling turned into ice in my stomach.

The closer I got to the front door, the more I was hyperventilating, imagining the worst.

There must be an explanation. It could just be a coincidence.

Jake wouldn’t do that to me, not after all the things I’ve been through. I told him I wanted to wait, that my virginity had value to me, and he said he was okay with that. He said he would wait as long as necessary, and despite being together for over a year, he’d never pressured me. I was scared to find out now why it might have been the case.

Bile rose in my throat as I reached the front door, unsure I wanted to face what could be happening or, if nothing sordid was happening, face my own unwarranted mistrust. I thought I was past my trust issues. I thought I was ready for the next steps in this relationship, but if a simple coincidence could shake the whole foundation of our relationship, then maybe I was not quite there yet.

I raised my hand to knock but thought better of it, and looked around, trying to figure out where he hid the emergency key.

I looked under the potted plants on his patio and under the door mat without any luck before I remembered he bought this stupid fake stone during one of our Target trips.

I looked around and, despite the worry brewing inside me, I smiled when I noticed it at the foot of the bushes brushing the wooden stairs.

I grabbed it and let out a little huff of relief when I found the key nestled inside it.

If nothing seedy was happening, he’ll probably question my uninvited pop-in, but I was too concerned to think more of it right now.

I opened the door slowly and didn’t have to question my decision as I heard a guttural moan of pleasure.

I tightened my hold on the key, feeling its ridges on my palm as I took one slow step after the other, trying to make sure he would not hear my stupid square heels thunk against his wooden flooring.

The closer I got to his room, the louder he became. I could also hear Serena call his name, asking him to fuck her harder with his big, fat cock.

I stopped, resting my hand against the wall as my stomach heaved violently.

I almost wished I could vomit right now and have him clean it after he sealed my horrible day with the worst betrayal.

I shook my head. I had enough! I couldn’t continue to torture myself, listening to the sound of their pleasure. They needed to know that I knew.

The door of the bedroom was ajar, and I shoved it open, making it slam against the wall—the lovely yellow wall I’d painted for him last month.

How fucking stupid had I been! I wanted to help him have a nice home—where I thought I would move into one day, but clearly, not in the optic to have him fuck another woman.

Despite knowing what I was going to find, it was almost too much to see.

Her, on all fours, on top of the sunflower bedspread I had picked to match the room, and him, fisting her long ponytail as he hammered into her from behind, his head thrown back in pure abandon.

She shrieked when she saw me and fell face-first onto the bed.

He looked back and his face shifted from unadulterated pleasure to shock in an instant, and despite the ripping pain, I felt a little better knowing I’d ruined his pleasure—just as he’d just ruined a year of my life.

I would not become my mother!

I turned around and started to run when he shouted my name. I ran out and down the street, my vision blurry with tears and my legs wobbling, both from the painful turmoil inside me and the heels I was not used to wearing.

I heard him call my name again and realized he was following me into the street!

Fuck! I ran faster, despite my burning eyes compromising my vision. I took random side streets just to ditch him.

I crossed a street without looking—a mistake, one of many, really—but the one I realized was going to cost me my life as I saw the shape of a black car come racing toward me.

My ankle twisted as my heel met an unevenness in the middle of the road, and I fell heavily.

I heard the horn, the squealing of the tires, and closed my eyes tightly, bracing for impact.

Yep, I was going to die today, in disgrace and in shame… It was ironic how things had come full circle.

I was going to die the same way I was born.