Chapter 1
Addison
The thin piece of paper feels heavy in my hand. I stare down at it, tears springing to my eyes. I can’t believe this is really happening. After years of living in Nashville, going to school with my best friend, Cae, it’s all over.
She’s gone, moving on with her life. I’m happy for her, I really am. She was offered her dream job, something she’s wanted for so long.
I just didn’t realize how much it would hurt to be all by myself after she left. We were so codependent, living together, going to school together... spending every single day together. So it’s been an adjustment being on my own. At first, I thought some space might be good, give me some time to figure out who I am, what I want to do with my life.
Spoiler alert, it didn’t.
I’ve been bouncing from job to job for the last few months, but nothing sticks. What Cae didn’t know is that my mom cut me off financially a few months after we graduated from college. When she found out that I spent years in college with nothing to show for it or any career plans lined up, she said I wasted my time and her money and that she wasn’t going to allow it any longer.
Reality hit me hard when I had to start paying for all the bills out of my own pocket, and I quickly began to drown. Nashville is not a cheap place to live. When Cecilia was here, we split everything, and it was doable.
My workforce skills are lacking, which is why I’ve been fired from every job. The easiest ones to get were working at restaurants and bars, but apparently, I can’t even do that right.
I don’t even want to think about the amount of food I’ve dropped or the dishware I’ve broken. All of which came out of whatever little paycheck I managed to earn.
In the few months since Cae left, I’ve gotten so behind on rent and bills that the electricity was shut off last week.
A few days ago, I went to take a bath because nothing helps stress better than taking a nice, long, hot bubble bath. But when I went to turn the tap, nothing came out. At first, I thought something was wrong with the plumbing and called our landlord. Then I found out that it’s only my apartment that is without water, and that’s because I was behind on paying for that, too.
After sobbing my eyes out for a few hours and wallowing in self-pity, I did the one thing I didn’t want to do. I called my mom and asked her for help.
She flat out refused. Said this was my own doing, and if I’d bothered to get a useful degree, I’d have a job and be making enough money to live.
My stepfather tried to reason with her, but she shut him down fast.
I pity the man. To this day, I have no idea what he sees in her.
She offered me another solution, though. I could move back home to San Diego and live with her and Elliot, my stepfather.
When she told me, I perked up a bit. But moving home wasn’t really something I’d ever wanted to do. There are reasons that I moved across the country in the first place, fleeing her and the life I grew up in.
While moving back home sounded better than being homeless, I knew it was too good to be true. This offer came with the condition that to live under her roof and that I’d have to actively search for a pack.
Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against finding a pack. It’s my dream to be with men who’d love me, take care of me,cuddle me, and adore me. There’s just always been something holding me back. Something no one knows.
I don’t want to be with justanypack. Knowing my mother, she’s going to try to set me up with some prestigious pack. A group of rich, prim and proper men with more money than they know what to do with.
Money is nice, but it always comes with a cost. I already had to give up so much growing up, held back on who I was and the things I enjoyed.
Moving here, starting over, and meeting Cae gave me the chance to finally be myself. I didn’t have to worry about what I wore, how I spoke, or how I was perceived.
I was just unapologetically me.
I can’t go back to hiding who I am. I won’t.
She can’t make me.
She might have twisted my arm into agreeing to her terms in order for me to move back, but that's all she’s getting from me.
My phone starts to beep, an alarm letting me know it’s time to leave. My heart starts to race as panic fills my veins. Swallowing hard, I look around the empty apartment.
The years spent building this place up, turning it into a home and making memories that will last me a lifetime, are gone. Like they never happened.
After I got off the phone with my mother that day, I knew a lot needed to be done fast. I called a few organizations to see if they could come get the bigger pieces of furniture so I could donate them to people in need.
