chapter 3
867 Words
Chapter 3
Sophia’s POV
Light spilled through the window like judgment, bright, unforgiving, and blinding.
I jolted awake, breath catching in my throat as I turned my head.
He was beside me, still asleep, his arm stretched lazily across the sheets, his mouth slightly parted, breathing slow.
That same deep, masculine scent lingered on the pillow between us, warm and woodsy.
And just like that, everything from last night came rushing back.
The bar, the kiss, the hotel.
His hands.
His mouth.
Me, unraveling in the arms of a stranger.
My lungs seized. I couldn’t breathe.
What did I just do?
Shame settled over me like a second skin, thick, hot, and suffocating.
I threw the covers off and shot out of bed, moving fast and quiet, panic pulsing in every step.
God, please don’t let him wake up, because if he does, how do I face him? What would I even say?
I found my dress on the floor and yanked it on with shaking hands, not bothering to smooth it down.
My shoes followed, then my phone, then the door.
I didn’t look back. I didn’t say goodbye. I just ran, down the hallway, down the stairs, out into the dull morning light where the cold slapped me fully awake.
I flagged a cab and gave the driver my address without meeting his eyes.
The ride was a blur.
When I finally got home, the house was still and quiet. Maybe Vivian hadn’t come back from the party, or maybe she was hiding.
Either way, I was grateful.
I tiptoed through the hallway like a thief and slipped into my room, locking the door behind me.
The weight in my chest hadn’t lifted. If anything, it had settled deeper.
I went straight to the bathroom, turned on the tap, and splashed water on my face. My reflection stared back at me, wide-eyed and hollow.
I gripped the edge of the sink, heart pounding, breath shallow.
Then I whispered to the girl in the mirror, barely able to meet her eyes, how could I be so reckless?
“God, Sophia, you don’t even know his name.”
A knock landed hard on my door, then it swung open with a slam.
Vivian didn’t wait for permission. She never did.
“There she is,” Linda said, voice sharp with mock surprise. “Party ghost herself.”
I turned, still clutching the edge of the sink.
I heard footsteps stepping against the floor as she walked in, arms folded and chin tilted with pride.
Bitch.
I rushed out of the bathroom.
“And where did you spend your night last night? And don’t use Ryan as an excuse because I know he’s dumped your pathetic ass.”
I blinked, not surprised.
Vivian tells Linda everything, every damn thing.
“You think you can w***e around and nobody talks?” Linda said in a cold voice.
Vivian followed, slow and silent, leaning against the doorframe like this was entertainment.
Linda scoffed, eyes scanning my face.
“Oh, sweet Ryan can’t fund your lifestyle anymore, and you think the best thing is to venture into p**********n?” She burst into loud, wicked laughter.
Anger boiled over me, my fingers clenching deep into my palm, almost drawing blood.
“Please, you guys should leave me the f**k alone,” I finally exploded. “Vivian, what else do you want from me?” I asked, glaring up at her.
“You’ve already got what you want, so why don’t you just leave me and let me have my peace?”
“There will be no peace for you in this house until you go join your wretched mother in hell,” Linda scoffed, her eyes raw with hatred before storming out of the room, leaving me with Vivian.
“Ryan’s not coming back to you, I hope you know that,” Vivian whispered. “He’s obsessed over me, so don’t you ever think he’s gonna come begging.”
My throat tightened.
Vivian raised an eyebrow. “What? Do you think he’d keep funding your pathetic life forever?”
I stared at her perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect smugness, and I felt my stomach churn.
I had had enough of this bullshit.
I stormed to the door where Vivian leaned smugly and slammed the door in her face.
I locked it and leaned against it, tears rolling down my face as I remembered what happened yesterday, how Ryan betrayed me.
I wiped my face.
Vivian was right. Ryan was not coming back, and my life was in my hands now. I would need to do something to make it better.
And the first step was getting a job, saving up enough money, and leaving this damned house.
I walked to the vanity where my laptop was sitting. I took my seat and opened it.
The screen glowed to life.
My fingers hovered over the keys as I searched:
“Secretary jobs in New York.”
With my qualifications, I could only apply for a secretary job.
Listings filled the screen.
Manhattan office, entry-level.
Medical front desk, must be available weekends.
Law firm, typing speed required.
I clicked one.
Then another.
And another.
- Writer
