Deserving more.
1401 Words
Betty
The next morning, I woke up slowly, stretching out on the plush bed that felt almost too comfortable to leave.
My phone pinged beside me, and I lazily reached for it. I was still groggy, the weight of the previous night lingering in my mind, but the message on the screen caught my attention immediately.
It was from Harrison—or Alex, as he insisted I call him.
“Good morning, beautiful. Hope you thought of me in your dreams.”
I stared at the words, my lips curving into a hesitant smile. He had a way of making someone feel special. Should I tell him that I more than thought of him, that I had dreamed about him all night kissing and f*****g me all through the night?
But even as I thought about replying, hesitation gripped me. Would responding make things feel too intimate? Too real?
Our arrangement was clear—strictly temporary, strictly confined to this two-week trip. Though, a larger part of me wished this wasn't fake, I had long waited for that one person that would know my worth and treat me right.
Though Mr Harrison appears to be way out of my league, but I wish... 'stop dreamy Betty,' I cautioned myself with a sigh.
Mr. Harrison was a billionaire, he has seen a million and one girls to want to have any permanent relationship with me
Why was he treating this like something more? Why did it feel like it mattered to him?
I wasn’t used to this kind of attention. I wasn’t used to being spoiled, to being made to feel like I mattered. It was thrilling, but it was also terrifying.
I wasn’t naive enough to believe in fairy tales, and Harrison was far too out of my league to imagine anything lasting beyond this trip.
Still, I reminded myself to keep my guard up. Whatever this was, it wasn’t real.
I was about to put the phone down and start my day when it rang again. The name on the screen made my heart drop: Mark.
I stared at it for a moment, dread pooling in my stomach. Against my better judgment, I answered.
“Hello, Betty,” Mark said, his voice as infuriatingly casual as ever. “Where are you?”
I tightened my grip on the phone, my tone firm. “Hello, Mark.”
“I went by your place last night, and you weren’t home,” he continued, his words dripping with entitlement. “It’s almost Christmas. I want to see you.”
Anger flared in me. “Mark, I don’t want to see you. And for the record, my life is none of your business.”
“You are my business, Betty,” he shot back, his arrogance so familiar it made my skin crawl.
I had blocked him countless times, but he always found a way to get through—new numbers, showing up unannounced. His persistence was maddening, and his refusal to let go was exhausting.
“Mark, if you don’t have anything worthwhile to say, I’m hanging up,” I snapped.
“Come on, Betty. Stop pretending to be difficult,” he said, his tone turning mocking. “I know you miss me. I know you haven’t been touched by a man since you left me. Admit it—you still crave me.”
Disgust churned in my stomach. “Goodbye, Mark,” I said coldly, ending the call before he could say another word.
I dropped the phone onto the bed, my hands trembling with frustration. How dare he? After everything he’d put me through, how could he still think he had any power over me?
Yes, I hadn’t been with anyone since Mark. But not because I missed him—it was because he had left me emotionally wrecked.
He had taken so much from me: my trust, my love, my sense of self-worth. And what had I gotten in return? Lies and betrayal.
On a f*****g Christmas morning
I will never forget that day. I had found him with our neighbor, a betrayal so sharp it had nearly broken me.
That memory was a scar I carried every day, a constant reminder to guard my heart.
My phone buzzed again, pulling me out of my thoughts. Without checking the caller ID, I answered, assuming it was Mark.
“You know what, Mark?” I hissed. “f**k you. You’re so full of s**t! And just so you know, I have a man now, and he’s a million times better than you in every way. He loves me better and definitely f***s me better than you could ever in your entire useless existence,” I spat angrily.
There was a pause on the other end of the line before a deep, familiar voice spoke.
“Who the f**k is Mark?”
My blood turned to ice. It wasn’t Mark. It was Alex.
Mortified, I hung up immediately, my heart racing. How could I have been so careless?
A sharp knock at the door jolted me out of my spiraling thoughts.
“Betty, open up,” Alex’s voice called from the other side.
I hesitated, my face burning with shame, before finally opening the door.
He stood there, his expression unreadable, his piercing gaze locking onto mine.
“Care to explain what that was about?” he asked, his tone calm but commanding.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I looked away, unable to meet his eyes.
“Betty,” he said, his voice softening. “Talk to me.”
I took a shaky breath, trying to compose myself. “It’s… nothing. Just someone from my past.”
“Mark,” he said knowingly.
I nodded reluctantly. “Yes. My ex. He… he doesn’t know how to let go.”
He studied me for a moment, his intense gaze making me feel exposed but not unsafe. “And what he said to you?” He demanded.
I hesitated before nodding. “He knows how to push my buttons. He always has.”
Alex stepped closer, his presence steadying me. “Do you need me to take care of him?” he asked, his voice hinting at something tragic.
“No,” I replied my voice sharper and defensive more than I intended.
“You still have feelings for him?” he demanded, his eyes steadily on mine.
“No. He is an asshole, we have been done for three years,” I said.
“You know only you have the power to give access to those you want to be close to you, right?” He said in a firm yet comforting voice.
I nodded in affirmation, my eyes anywhere but his.
He slowly touched my face and lifted until my eyes were resting on his.
You are so beautiful, he mumbled in a rough voice that sent shivers down my spine.
The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard. I looked at him, searching his face for any sign of insincerity, but all I saw was genuine concern.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face.
“You deserve the world, don't let anyone make you feel less. Only a fool would want to lose a beautiful woman such as yourself; don’t let him take any more from you.”
His words struck something deep inside me. For so long, I had carried the weight of my past alone, convinced that I had to be strong and that I couldn’t rely on anyone else.
But in that moment, with Alex standing before me, I felt a flicker of something I hadn’t felt in years: hope.
As he turned to leave, I found myself calling after him. “Alex?”
He paused, turning back.
“Thank you,” I said again, my voice steadier this time.
He smiled softly before walking away, leaving me standing in the doorway, my heart a little lighter.
I closed the door and leaned against it, my mind racing. I didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was starting to reclaim my life.
This trip, this arrangement—it wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t without its complications. But maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what I needed to begin again.
- Writer
