Love me like you loathe me

Chapter10

It was morning and today was the day that Lewis texted me at seven in the morning, telling me that if I didn’t show up this time, don’t show up at all! to my frown reading his last message that I didn’t reply too, like I hadn’t done the previous five times over the week he had reminded me to get here on time and don’t show up dressed like…. Well, me!

Mike even came over and told me to stop feeling sorry for myself and snap out of my pity. He said that if I didn’t pay this month’s rent to our parents, he wasn’t going to save me.

So, here I was, standing in front of the mirror, dressed in one of Mom’s old skirts and blouses that she used when she was working at the bank downtown before they decided to leave Mike and me to have a retirement far away, with me being useless and him always in need of babysitting, having his first kid at eighteen.

Oh god… it just felt bad that looking absolutely nothing like me, the strict hairdo and basic makeup, since I knew that Lewis would chew me out if I came over with red or orange eyeshadow or stars over my face, and he would call me weird or strange, same as always!

“Okay… let’s do this….” I was moving in mom’s heels slowly and was not used to the height, the ones she never used since she had so many pairs. I wasn’t allowed to touch them growing up, the stiff black leather eating its way inside the back of my heels, happy I had the same size, or I would be in trouble since I didn’t have a dime to spend on clothes or shoes. I wouldn’t ask Mike, since he would say no anyway.

I walked inside, and Lewis was standing in the lobby, getting out of the heat. I hated that I was so nervous about seeing him that it had made me want to turn around twice, thrice if you count, when I didn't almost step onto the bus taking me downtown.

He probably saw that I was shaking from how sick I felt about having to come before him, who loved to treat me like crap, my life being controlled by his mercy… so really, nothing had changed.

Lewis was staring at me, his hands inside his pockets, and grinning. There was slight mischief inside his eyes, glittering when I walked inside, sweaty and hating the shoes. How my mom could ever have worn these death traps was a mystery!

“Stephanie, on time… that’s a great start…” he was smirking at my own scowl, staring to form since he couldn’t just help himself from teasing me. Who is the one that acts professionally now? I sighed, tired already.

My mother had the most boring taste in clothes. Here I was, dressed just like her, before the smirking, well-dressed man who knew exactly where this outfit came from, since he was treated more like a son than a daughter.

“Would you like some coffee or tea?” I scoffed, hearing him ask me pleasantries in my annoyed face, showing him just how much I didn’t want to be here and having him tell me stuff I didn’t care about, my stomach burning from just standing and having watchful eyes on me, still amused about me having mom’s clothes on!

“No, I don’t want coffee, and I don’t like tea…” I said more duly to his chuckle. Leaning onto the same desk he wanted me to be inside, he uncrossed his arms loosely hanging relaxed, compared to my stiff posture. I just wanted to get this over with so I could go back home and get out of this stupid outfit that made me cringe.

“Okay, noted…. "So, coffee then, milk, sugar?” I exhaled at his stupid questions and came closer, wanting him to stop pretending to be nice. He wasn’t. I never had the pleasure of getting the whole nice guy thing he was doing to other people, and he wasn’t about to start now with me; it changed nothing.

“Cream, and sugar….” I took my bag of my shoulders that didn’t match the stiff and formal attire in soft leather and tassels in different colors I had gotten from a second-hand store, my breaths shaking from getting closer, trying to keep myself cool from standing here and being watched like I was on trial, Mike telling me that Lewis was a really great guy for even giving me this job, and not firing me on the spot for not showing up for two days.

“Cream... and sugar…” Lewis gave me a cunning look over the cup when I took it slowly. I hated that he was still smiling at me with trembling hands and a burning stomach, not knowing how to respond to the kindness he was showing me from nowhere.

“Thanks…” I stared back at his smile, which didn’t make any sense. He should have been angry at me for now showing up when he told me to, and here he was serving me coffee like he hadn’t bullied me all my life.

“I’ll take mine black and no paper cups. We use real ones, and you do the dishes before leaving for the day. The coffee machine is in the back of the break room. "I will show you how to use it later…” Lewis had started talking to my confusion, losing his smile before, and my stomach dropping from the small kindness, so he was just showing me how to pamper his clients. Did he just pretend to be nice to me? My heart sank, my stomach dropped, and my shoulders fell from Lewis, still talking, wanting me to act better, like my family, who supported him and not me.

“Stephanie? "Are you still listening, or are you lost inside that head of yours?” I blinked, hearing him talk to the heavy sigh like he knew he couldn’t trust me, same as Mike when he had been over and sighed about the mess inside the house, arguing with me while making me clean up on the floor, I didn’t get it, he was barking at me over some clothes and some cups that needed to be washed?

“Yeah… I don’t think I can do this, Lewis… I’m sorry….” I gave the cup back, and his eyebrows raised in surprise at me, looking sad and picking up my bag again. He didn't want to be here, and he didn’t want me, so there was no need for his charade, even trying to ask me why.

“You can’t wash a few cups and answer the phone, or me?” He was asking me seriously, putting my cup down onto the desk with me already having my purse on, wanting to go back home, and wondering why I even existed in a world that didn’t want me.

“All of them.” My voice was low and sad, wanting to leave without the explanation he clearly wanted, looking slightly hurt for me trying to run away from him, trying to show me how to do a job that I didn’t ask for in the first place.

“I can’t stand in these stupid clothes and shoes, and I hate smiling at people I don’t care about. I’m not you…” I said the last part, blaming him, and shifted my eyes away, not wanting him to look at me like I was being weird. I was, and I couldn’t change that, since I had tried so hard to fit in when I was younger, but I didn’t want to anymore.

I wanted to be me.