I’ve almost got her.
Chapter Eight
Seraphine
My day goes terribly. Truly, everything that can go wrong, does. Just call me Murphy. I’m late for work, thanks to Mr. Caldwell’s impromptu breakfast date that I did not agree to. Clara is at the spa when I get there, so she gives me a warning for arriving late. I’ve never gotten a warning before! The thought of name dropping as an excuse for my lateness pops into my head, but I won’t stoop that low. I won’t use the Caldwell family for anything. I didn’t do it while I was with Harrison, and I certainly won’t do it now.
Two of my clients don’t show, meaning I don’t get paid. One who does show up, then complains that I gave the worst massage they’ve ever had. Clara isn’t happy about that either. I did nothing wrong, only what I normally do. I’ve never had complaints before! Two other clients are late, one of them demanding I still massage them for the full hour, even after I explained I have another client right after them.
I’m doing a double today, and because things obviously aren’t bad enough, Clara sends Jody home early and makes me do the cleaning by myself. I feel like a child being scolded for getting home late.
Which is pretty damn ironic since I’m currently sitting in my car, outside my father’s house because he won’t let me in. I missed curfew, and now I get to freeze my ass off in my car all night. How pathetic is my life?
As I sit in the driver’s seat, staring at the front door of my father’s house, I burn with anger. If only the burning did something to warm me up, I’d appreciate it. But no. My stomach hurts from being hungry, my head hurts from being stressed, and I have to pee!
Too many times my mind wanders to what Mr. Caldwell is offering, only because it would give me the money I need to get the hell out of here and away from all this toxicity. But then what? Where will I go? What will I do? How will I sustain myself? I suppose I could keep the job long enough to find a better job or go back to school. I have wanted to do that. Getting out of my father’s house is the priority though, considering he shouted at me from inside the house for a full hour after I knocked on it, hoping he’d let me in when I told him I was late because of work. Of course he didn’t care, and he continued to rant about how I’ve ruined his life enough and he doesn’t need to deal with me getting home late.
Blowing out a breath, I rest my head on the steering wheel and fight back tears and nausea.
My life freaking sucks. It sucks so hard.
I so badly want to blame Harrison for this, but it isn’t even his fault. It’s his fault that he ruined our relationship, but everything else? I can’t blame him for that. It isn’t his fault I don’t have a good enough paying job to live on my own. It isn’t his fault my father isn’t good to me. But he did push the rock down the hill, and now that it’s moving, it’s moving fast. And if I don’t figure something out soon, the weight of it is going to crush me.
“It’ll get worse before it gets better, Sera. That’s how it goes.”
I turn my car on, sit for a minute so the windows don’t fog up, and once it’s warm enough, I drive off in search of food. Maybe alcohol too.
I shouldn’t spend my money on alcohol. I should save every penny I have to get out of here quicker, but I could really use a drink after my day. It isn’t my typical go-to when having a bad day, I don’t rely on alcohol as a means to make me feel better but screw it. My day sucked, and I deserve a damn drink.
After getting fast food from a drive-thru, I head downtown and when I find a spot to park, I take it. Finishing my food, that is way too greasy but cheaper than bar food, I check myself in the mirror to make sure I look decent. Not that I’m trying to pick anyone up, but I don’t want to look like a hag going into a bar. I’m single now, and I should remember that.
I get out of the car, toss my keys in my purse, make sure the doors are locked, then cross the street and walk to the corner where there is a group of men standing outside, smokingcigarettes. One of them, who looks a few years older than me, smiles as he opens the door for me.
“Thank you,” I say politely and step inside.
The scent of bar food hits my nose, along with the cracking of billiard balls from the very back. The place is busy, but thankfully, not crowded. I go to the bar and take an empty seat between an older man and a woman who is turned to speak with another woman. I hook my purse on the hook that’s under the countertop.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asks, putting down a coaster with the bar logo on it in front of me. He’s a young guy, maybe in college. Blond hair, bright smile, blue eyes. Too pretty.
“Lemon drop martini, please,” I say, digging into my bag blindly to find my phone.
The bartender taps the counter with his hand then moves off to make my drink. I check my phone, though I don’t know what for. It’s not like I have friends or family who care to check on me. I do notice my battery is only at twenty-seven percent though, and that really sucks since it probably won’t last me the night. The battery on this thing is awful, and the offer of a new phone with that job is appealing. I can’t deny that all of it is appealing, other than working with Mr. Caldwell. Well, even that is appealing in a way, but it’s not a good idea.
I’m not materialistic, but being with Harrison for two years had me used to a certain way of living. A way of living where I got things when I wanted them—or rather needed them because I was never one to indulge just because Iwantedto. Ifthat were the case, I’d have a brand-new car and a phone with a battery that lasts more than half the day. Knowing I could have those things when I needed them was a relief. Now, I don’t have that luxury, and its anxiety-inducing in a way I don’t like.
The reality of everything still hasn’t hit me yet, I don’t think. I’m upset. I’m angry. But most of all I’m just… empty. The realization that there is nothing to my life outside of Harrison is… jarring. How did I get here? Why did I do this to myself? How did it happen? Thinking back, I’m not even sure. I can’t pinpoint one specific thing. Where did it go wrong, and what did I do to deserve being cheated on?
I jumped headfirst into a relationship with Harrison. He was handsome, sweet, driven, and so much fun. We laughed all the time, and he took me out on dates that were fun. Not just dinners and movies, but to arcades and ferry rides and hikes. He spent time with me between school and things got serious fast. I moved in quickly. But it was all okay. It worked. We built a routine that worked for us. He spent most of his time at school. I worked. I contributed to the bills even though he didn’t want me to, but I felt I had to pay my way. It was only fair, and I didn’t want him thinking I was with him just because he had money—because that wasn’t the case. I loved who he was, not what he gave me.
Harrison was driven even though he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. I appreciated that about him. Loved that he was eager to do his own thing and not take everything hisfather offered. Yes, he took some things because it was smart. Why struggle when you don’t have to?
Our life was good, albeit a little mundane now that I think about it. We had a date night every Saturday after I got out of work. During the week was hard. I’d come home after work, make dinner, and he’d get home and eat his—that was left in the microwave—well after I’d gone to bed.
Now that I think about it, it makes me a little sick. We were together two years, I’m only twenty-one, yet somehow our life reflected that of a couple who’d been married for fifty years.
No wonder he cheated on me… I’m boring and lifeless.
“Here you are.”
