Breaking point
960 Words
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Chapter 3: A Breaking Point
The first rays of sunlight streamed through the hotel room's curtains, illuminating the tangled sheets and discarded fragments of the previous night. Linda stirred, her body pressed against something firm and warm. Slowly, she opened her eyes and froze.
Liam.
He was still asleep, his face calm and handsome in the morning light. His dark hair was tousled, and his chiseled jawline seemed softer in this vulnerable state. Linda’s cheeks flushed as the events of the night came rushing back to her. She had been drawn into his warmth, his touch, his unspoken need—and she hadn’t resisted.
She glanced down at their entwined bodies and realized they were both naked. Her heart raced as she carefully shifted away, not wanting to wake him. She looked around the room for her clothes, but all she found were torn scraps scattered across the floor.
"He tore them," she thought, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite her current predicament. The memory of his passionate whispers and the way he had held her made her stomach flutter, but reality quickly sobered her. She needed to leave before he woke up.
Quietly, Linda tiptoed to the wardrobe. Pulling it open, she was surprised to find several neatly arranged suits. Among them, tucked in the corner, was a single pair of gray joggers and a black hoodie.
"This will have to do," she muttered, slipping them on. The clothes were several sizes too big, but they were her only option. The hoodie hung low, almost like a dress, and the joggers bunched awkwardly at her ankles.
She stole one last glance at Liam. He looked peaceful, and for a brief moment, she hesitated. But she couldn’t stay. Pulling the hood over her head, Linda grabbed her phone and ordered a ride.
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The cab pulled up to her family’s modest home, its peeling paint and rusted gate a sharp contrast to the opulent hotel she had just left. Linda hesitated before stepping out, knowing what awaited her inside. She had barely opened the door when her mother stormed into the hallway, her face twisted in fury.
“Where have you been?” her mother shouted, her voice echoing through the small house. “And what the hell are you wearing?”
Linda barely had time to respond before her mother’s hands were on her, yanking the oversized hoodie. “Why didn’t you stay with Mr. Kola?” her mother demanded. “Do you know how much money you’ve cost us by running away?”
“Mom, I couldn’t stay!” Linda cried, trying to pull away. “That man... he was disgusting. He—”
Her mother slapped her hard across the face, cutting her off mid-sentence. Linda staggered back, clutching her cheek as her younger sister appeared in the doorway, smirking.
“You’re an ungrateful little brat,” her mother hissed. “You think you’re too good for this family? Too good to do your part?”
“I only lost my job a week ago, Mom!” Linda shouted, tears streaming down her face. “You haven’t given me a chance to—”
Another slap silenced her. This time, her mother’s fury was accompanied by a tirade of insults. “All you’ve done is eat, sleep, and waste space! You’re nothing but a failure!”
Linda tried to defend herself, but her mother’s anger only grew. “I don’t want a lazy, stupid child under my roof,” she spat. “Pack your things and get out. You have until nightfall.”
Linda stared at her mother in disbelief, her heart shattering into pieces. Her younger sister, standing smugly behind their mother, added fuel to the fire. “Maybe now you’ll learn what it means to actually work for a living,” she sneered.
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Linda retreated to her small room, her sanctuary for so many years, and sank onto the bed. The bruises on her arms and face throbbed, but the pain in her chest was far worse.
The room was cluttered with remnants of her childhood: faded posters on the walls, a small collection of books on the shelf, and a stuffed bear she had clung to during sleepless nights. Linda picked up the bear, holding it tightly as memories flooded her mind.
She remembered playing hide-and-seek with her sister in the yard, her father’s laughter echoing as he counted down. Those days had been filled with love and warmth. But everything had changed when her father died. Her mother had grown colder, harder, and her younger sister had transformed into a spoiled brat, always the favored one.
Linda packed slowly, her fingers lingering on each item as if saying goodbye to a part of herself. She placed her books, clothes, and a few sentimental trinkets into a small suitcase, leaving behind anything too large to carry.
When the sun began to set, Linda stood in the doorway of her room, taking one last look. She felt a pang of sadness but also a glimmer of hope. This isn’t the end, she told herself. I’ll find my way.
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Dragging her suitcase down the hallway, she passed her mother and sister without a word. Her mother sneered, her arms crossed. “Don’t come crawling back when you realize you can’t make it on your own.”
Linda didn’t respond. She stepped out into the evening air, the weight of the suitcase heavy in her hand but the weight on her heart even heavier. As she walked down the street, she glanced back at the house where she had grown up.
“I’ll prove you wrong,” she whispered, determination hardening her resolve. “One day, you’ll regret throwing me out.”
- Writer
