Mia
It’s been three days, and honestly, I’m exhausted. The nurses have tried to get me to go home, but I refuse. I don’t have a home to go to, and I refuse to go to Brad’s—even if I left my important things there.
He tried calling me yesterday, then sent a text asking if I was okay. I ignored it. He doesn’t care. He’s just doing it because he feels bad, but I honestly don’t care. He should feel bad. Who sleeps with someone just to do it? He’s such a pig. How did I not see it in the beginning?
He pretended to be here for me just to get in my pants, and I fell right into his plan.
I rub a tired hand down my face and stand, walking over to the blinds. I begin to pull them up. “Some sunlight wouldn’t hurt, huh, Mom?”
She can’t talk back, being sedated, but I still like to speak to her so
