chapter 3
884 Words
~ KAIA ~
•Three days ago•
“Hey booboo, I got you the job!”
Ashby’s voice was all sunshine and breathlessness, like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb in the middle of my exhaustion.
I was curled on the mattress in the studio apartment, eating peanut butter straight from the jar because everything else was gone. Rent was overdue. My soul felt overdue. Hailey was burning up and I hadn’t slept in two nights.
So when she said it—got you the job—I didn’t even register it at first.
“What?”
Ashby huffed. “I said—you got the job! That clinic I told you about in Sundale? They loved your résumé. You're officially their new in-house nurse. Full-time, benefits, housing included.”
I sat up, peanut butter forgotten. “Wait… seriously?”
“They even paid a sign-on bonus. It’s already in your account. Like, b***h—you’re officially employed!”
And just like that… the crack of light I hadn’t dared to hope for broke clean across the dark, my eyes darting to the mold in the ceiling of the studio apartment.
.
.
.
•Now•
It’s almost laughable—the difference between this new place and what I just left behind.
The Sundale bus stop is quiet, almost too quiet. I blink awake the second the driver calls out the name, and for a moment, I think I’m dreaming. Because surely I can’t be in the right place. There are trees. And birds. And actual air.
No peeling walls. No shouting neighbors. No cigarette smoke seeping in through broken vents.
Just peace.
I drag my duffel over the pavement, head swiveling as I take it all in. The buildings are simple, freshly painted with off-white siding and blue trim. Flowerbeds line the sidewalks. A maintenance guy is literally sweeping wet leaves off the front step of one unit.
The place even smells… new and wet.
Ashby wasn’t lying.
This… this doesn’t feel real.
My apartment is a corner unit with a tiny porch and a welcome mat. When I unlock the door and step inside, I just… freeze.
It’s already furnished. Couch. Bed. Pastel coloured curtains. Even little touches like a vase on the table and dish soap on the counter. There’s a working fridge and clean tiles. I haven’t lived somewhere this clean in months since I left Rob’s.
I walk slowly through the space, running my fingers over the back of the chair, the top of the dresser, the doorframe.
Then I see the envelope on the kitchen counter.
Kaia Merrick – Welcome to Sundale. We’re glad you’re here.
And that’s when the tears come.
Not the frantic kind. Not the ones full of panic and exhaustion. No, these are slow. Heavy.
I drop the duffel bag on the floor, gripping the cloth above my chest like I'm gripping my heart as I stagger to the couch.
And then, it hit me all at once—that I made it.
That I’m standing in a home he doesn’t know.
That my name is on a contract that didn’t require a man to validate it.
That a month and a half ago, I was bleeding. And now… now I’m breathing.
I sink to the couch. Hands shaking. Heart thudding.
I wish Hailey could see this. But maybe it's better she's not here for my mess of emotions. I want her to only ever see the strong version of myself.
And God, I survived.
I really did.
Even when I almost gave up on nursing school. When I wished I could sleep and never wake up again. When I blamed God for causing me all the pain but also blamed myself for getting pregnant in my teenage years.
But god, I’m angry too.
Angry at how much of myself I gave to a man who wouldn’t even share a damn bed with me toward the end.
Angry at how many nights I spent crying while he snored beside someone else.
Angry that my youth—my body—my dreams—were collateral damage in a war I didn’t start.
Minutes turn into what feels like hours.
And suddenly… I don’t want to cry anymore.
I can't believe that fucker was still one of the first person I thought about after starting a new beginning.
I want to feel something else. Anything else.
I want to remember what it's like to feel wanted without having to beg.
To feel sexy without guilt.
To be touched like I matter—even if it's just for one night.
Just one night to erase six years of shame and silence and pain.
Just one night to kiss the old Kaia goodbye and say hello to the woman who clawed her way out.
I pick up my phone and scroll. I’m not looking for a future.
I’m looking for a warm body, a few drinks, a hard kiss, and the sound of someone calling me beautiful like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
With my sign-on bonus.
And just like that—
I open the dating app Ashby made me download “for emergencies” and type in:
Free for the night. Not looking for anything serious. Just looking to feel alive again.
- Writer
