“Damnit!” I stand and pace the room before running a hot bath. Lowering into the scalding water, I wince at the sting between my legs before laying a washcloth on my face.
Days ago, I wanted him as far away from me as possible. I was still toeing the line between lust and hate.
I cannot feel for this man.
It’s better that it ends now.
It’s already over. No goodbyes necessary.
And maybe, the waiting phone on my pillow was his way of saying it was over as well.
Fine.
We live on opposite sides of the universe. Our worlds are completely different.
“He doesn’t feel a fucking thing for you. He can only play you if you let him.” And now, with our arrangement satisfied, he’ll disappear just as suddenly as he came.
Good. Good riddance.
After leaving Triple Falls, I’ll go off to school, graduate, and dominate the field of my choice. And maybe, one day, I’ll marry and have children.
But it’s the pounding at my temple, and the gnaw in my chest that refutes that type of future. Do I want that life?
All my best-laid plans now seem simple-minded, if not a bit boring and predictable. My focus before I moved to Triple Falls had been solely on just making it through with Mom. I always dreamed of the day I’d gain my freedom, but I didn’t plan past that. Now that day is almost here, and any plan I’ve come up with recently doesn’t seem like enough for me anymore.
Pulling myself out of the bath, I dress in my pajamas and sip whiskey from the small flask I packed before I dial my mother. She answers on the second ring.
“Hey, baby girl. What are you up to?”
“I’m in Charlotte. I’ve got a meeting with Dad in the morning.”
“Oh?” She lingers on the line.
“Mom, I’m signing tomorrow.”
“You don’t sound so happy about it.”
“Money doesn’t make me happy.”
“It’s good you found that out early. But a lack of it sucks.”
“I mean, I hated it when we were broke, you know? When you worried yourself sick, but—”
“We did okay, didn’t we?” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Five bucks worth of gas and tater tots.”
“I miss you, kid.”
“I miss you too. But I called for a reason.”
“Okay.”
“Look, I know what you’re going to say, but I need your bank account info.”
“What, honey? No. That’s all yours. It’s meant for you.”
“And I want no part of it. The son of a bitch is a multi-millionaire and made us do without for years paying the bare minimum while we scraped by. It’ll be my money and therefore my decision. I want you taken care of. And I want you…to see someone.”