Adored by Mr. Volkov

My Tristful 11

I woke up with a dull ache behind my eyes and last night heavy on my chest. Still in the same dress, mascara cracked on my cheeks, hair stuck to my skin, and a bitter taste in my mouth-like shame..

I didn't want to move. I didn't want to feel.

If I went to school today, the whispers would trail behind me like shadows. The stares, the fake sympathy, the giggles-I could already feel them. And him. Valentino. My stomach twisted. I didn't know what was worse: that I almost kissed him... or that I wanted to. What if he thinks I'm pathetic? Or I'm one of those girls?

God, I'm so messed up.

A loud knock pulled me from my thoughts, sharp like thunder against my door.

I flinched. "Come on," I muttered, my voice dry and hoarse, barely above a whisper.

The door creaked open, and my mom stepped in. She looked like she'd been holding it in all morning-lips pressed into a hard line, arms crossed, worry stitched into every inch of her face, disguised poorly as frustration.

Her eyes swept over me. Her gaze landed on the state of my dress, my face, the broken look in my eyes.

"You're a mess right now, you know that?" she said, her voice low but steady, the kind of tone she used when she was trying not to lose it. "Care to explain?"

She sat on the edge of my bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. I didn't look at her. Just kept staring at the same spot on the wall, like it could swallow everything I didn't want to feel.

Silence hung between us like fog.

"I didn't feel like going," I whispered.

She exhaled through her nose. "Yeah, no kidding."

I shut my eyes, but it was useless. My mind played everything on a loop-Robert kissing Lilya, their smug smiles, Suzie walking away, the rain hitting my skin like punishment... and then Valentino. His hands. His voice. His wife.

"Lorenza," she said again, more gently this time. "What happened?"

My lips trembled, but I stayed silent. The knot in my throat rose fast, tight and cruel-warning me the tears were coming.

She waited. She always did when she knew I was on the edge of breaking.

Then, finally, I spoke, my voice small and cracked. "I got humiliated. Again. By Robert... and Lilya. At the party."

Her eyes softened, and she reached out to gently move a strand of hair from my face. I flinched, but she didn't take it personally.

"They did something?" she asked, her tone careful.

I nodded. "He kissed her. In front of everyone. He threw it in my face like it was a game." I laughed bitterly, wiping my cheek roughly. "And the worst part? I already knew he was like this. He cheated before. And I still let him back in. Like a goddamn idiot."

Her hand hovered in the air before resting on my blanket-covered knee.

"You're not an i***t," she said softly. "You're human. And you wanted to believe he'd changed. That doesn't make you stupid-it makes you hopeful. Brave, even."

I looked at her, finally meeting her eyes. "Hopeful gets you crushed."

"And closed-off gets you lonely," she countered, her voice quiet but firm.

I blinked. My throat burned, and I hated how her words touched something inside me that I'd been trying to bury for years.

She looked around the room-my phone tossed on the floor, my makeup smudged, the crumpled tissues by my pillow. Then her gaze landed on the jacket draped over the arm of my chair.

"Whose is that?" she asked.

My eyes followed hers to the familiar jacket. Valentino's.

Shit.

I looked away. "No one. Just... someone helped me last night."

She didn't push. But she didn't have to.

After a moment, she stood up and walked toward the door. "Shower. Eat something. Then decide what you're going to do with the rest of today. But don't lie here and drown in it, baby. You've already survived worse."

I stepped out of the hot shower, wiping the foggy mirror with my towel. My face looked dull-puffy eyes, dry lips, and a hidden ache beneath my ribs. I slipped into an oversized dark blue hoodie and black shorts, letting my damp hair cling to my neck. I didn't bother drying it.

I padded downstairs, the silence in the house pressing against my ears like static.

The smell of toast and eggs lingered in the air.

My father was sitting at the table, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper like he hadn't disappeared for years. Like he hadn't broken us. He looked up for half a second when he heard my footsteps, but he didn't say anything. Neither did I.

He's my father, yes. But not my dad.

I didn't sit. I didn't eat. I just walked past the kitchen, through the living room, and out the front door.

The cold air hit me the moment I stepped outside-sharp and biting. I shivered, breath fogging in the air, and pulled my hoodie tighter, tucking my hands into the sleeves like a child trying to disappear.

Yesterday still clung to me like soaked fabric-Robert's betrayal, Lilya's laughter, Suzie's absence, the almost kiss, Veronica.

I needed to clear my head before it swallowed me whole.

I walked down the quiet street, my footsteps barely audible. The town felt eerie-empty, like it was holding its breath. A few cars hissed by on the damp road, and the wind stirred dry leaves that whispered across the pavement.

Then... I felt it.

That subtle itch on the back of my neck. That strange prickling sensation that makes your spine straighten-like someone's watching you. I stopped walking, my heartbeat stuttering, and turned around.

No one.

Just a few parked cars and a gust of wind chasing a swirl of orange and brown leaves.

I shook my head. You're just paranoid.

Still, I didn't put my headphones in. I needed to hear everything now.

I walked faster, my breath tight in my chest, until I reached it-my favorite garden.

It wasn't much-just an old park with rusted swings, a worn bench, and wild flowerbeds. But it was mine. A quiet escape where the world softened, and for a little while, everything felt okay.

I sat on the same bench I always did, hidden behind the hedge near the rusted iron gate. My fingers traced the graffiti carved into the wood-names, hearts, broken promises.

I curled my legs onto the bench, pulling my hoodie over my knees.

I sat still on that creaky old bench, watching families in the park. Kids laughing with their moms, climbing over tired dads, running with wild joy. And then my eyes caught on a little girl-her knees scraped, tears on her cheeks. She was sobbing, shoulders trembling.

And then... her father came.

He bent down, scooped her into his arms like she was made of glass. He whispered something I couldn't hear, kissed her forehead, and she smiled through the tears.

My heart ached like someone had just stabbed a dull knife through it. Not sharp-just constant, aching pain.

Because I can't feel that anymore.

I closed my eyes. I could remember my father caring. Once. When I was smaller, softer, and less aware of how temporary love could be. But those memories felt like scenes from someone else's life. Distant. Blurry. Unreachable.

I pulled out my phone. I stared at Suzie's name in my contact list. I thought of calling her-

Buzz. Incoming call: Suzie 🖤

My breath hitched.

I picked it up.

"Where are you?" she asked, her tone surprisingly calm.

"At the park," I answered quietly.

"I'm coming. Stay there," she said, and hung up before I could respond.

Minutes passed, each one stretching like a thread about to snap. Then I saw her-walking toward me with that slow, steady pace only she had. She didn't say anything at first, just sat beside me on the bench.

We stared ahead.

Long silence.

The wind played with the fallen leaves near our feet. The world moved around us, loud and bright, but our bubble was quiet and heavy.

Then she spoke.

"You can cry here, come on." Her voice was soft, a gentle tug. She opened her arms slightly.

I didn't resist.

I leaned against her shoulder, slowly, like I wasn't sure if I deserved the comfort-and then everything inside me cracked open. The tears came in silent waves at first, then louder sobs. She didn't interrupt. Just held me close, one hand slowly stroking my back like she was trying to fix me, stitch by stitch.

"I looked so dumb," I whispered eventually, my voice hoarse. "What if everyone makes fun of me tomorrow?"

She scoffed lightly. "Does it matter?"

"Yes, Suzie. It does," I pulled back, wiping my face with my sleeves. "I hate hearing them giggle and whisper. They don't know what it's like-to be me, to go through this, to be humiliated like that."

I hesitated... almost bit my tongue. But it slipped out, almost too naturally.

"I can't go back there. I almost kissed Valen-" I froze, eyes widening.

She turned her head fast. Her eyes narrowed. She caught it instantly.

"What did you just say?" Her tone was sharp, not judgmental-just utterly shocked. "You almost kissed Valentino? Are you serious right now?"

I looked down at my hands. My nails were red from digging into my palm.

"Umm... I-I... yeah." My voice cracked. "It happened last night. At his house."

Her jaw dropped slightly, blinking fast as she tried to register it. I knew what that look meant: Are you out of your mind?

"I was soaked in the rain and crying and... he took me in. He gave me tea, and I told him everything. I was just... broken, Suzie. And then he held my face, and we got close. Too close."

Her brows lifted even higher. "Lorenza. That's the real reason you don't wanna go to school?"

I nodded, avoiding her gaze.

She exhaled sharply. "Look... I love you. You know I do. But you don't see how crazy this is?"

"I know," I said quickly, my voice shaking. "I know it's wrong, I know it's stupid-but in that moment, it felt so real. Like... someone actually saw me. Not Lorenza-the-student. Not Lorenza-who-got-cheated-on. Just... me."

Suzie didn't respond right away.

She just stared at me, her expression unreadable, then finally looked away and said:

"You're not messed up, Lo. You're just... hurting. But you gotta stop letting broken people define your worth. Even if one of them looks like Jeffrey Dean Morgan with sad eyes."

That made me laugh a little. A wet, ugly laugh. But it was something.

"I miss you," I whispered.

"I never left," she said softly.