Deadly obsession

Sophia's pov

I woke to the sound of my mom's voice as she stood over me; a mischievous smile on her face. The morning sun streaming through the window made lines around her eyes deeper than I had remembered, making her look older. "Good morning,sleepy head, time to get up. We have a big day ahead of us," she said, sounding bright yet a little nervous.

I rubbed my eyes to get the sleep off. The bed creaked as I sat up, and I winced. Mornings sucked. "What's going on?" I mumbled, my voice all husky from sleeping.

Mom was already at my closet. "We're going shopping, and then your father is coming over for lunch," she said, her voice muffled since she was going through my clothes.

I threw off my covers and swung my legs over the side, my feet swinging in the air. "Ugh, do I have to?" I complained, running a hand through my tangled hair. "And why are we still pretending like everything is okay with Dad? Aren't you divorcing him?"

My mom’s smile faltered for a second; a look of sadness in her eyes. She turned to me, softening. "Sophia, just because your father and I didn't work out doesn't mean we can't be civil. And just because I was a bad wife doesn't mean I'm a bad friend," she said, the tone in her voice touched with defensiveness.

"Because you were a lousy wife: because you cheated on him! Now he is simply going to forget and pretend?. " I threw open my hands and let them fling back.

Mom sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "Sophia, it's complicated. For now, just believe me, okay? Let's get ready now. We can't be late to go shopping." She handed me an outfit: a bright yellow sundress with white flowers. "How about this? You look so nice in yellow."

I rolled my eyes and took the dress from her. "Whatever." I stood up, feeling the softness of the dress against my skin, and went to the bathroom; the sound of my mom's footsteps faded as she left my room.

My parents were divorcing, and Mom was already well ahead with some mystery man. Some mystery man well-connected enough to get the scandalous posts of Mom's affair taken down off social media. I shivered. Who was he? And more importantly, why was Mom willing to move forward with him so fast?

When the water started getting cold, I turned off the faucet. I got out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. My mind was full of questions, and this feeling that my life was going to get considerably complicated from now on would not leave me alone.

I finally got dressed and was going downstairs when my phone buzzed. It was Emily; I knew, so I just smiled. "Hey, girl! What's up?" I said, answering the call.

"Hey, Sophia! I just heard about this awesome party at a club downtown tonight. You want to come with me?" Emily excitedly asked.

For one brief moment, I considered my mother's plans, which included me, for the rest of that day. Then again, that sounded like a party to which I can not say no to. "Yeah, sure thing! What time am I meeting you guys?"

We finally settled on meeting at 8 pm, and I hung up, feeling excited.

"Sophia, why does it take you such a long time? We are going to be late!” Mum said with a strict tone.

I rolled my eyes and felt my anger building up inside of me. "Sorry, Mom. I was just on the phone with Emily."

My mom's face loosened up a bit but was still worried. "Okay, let's go. We have lots to do today."

We went to the market.

Fresh fruits and vegetables, spices, and freshly baked goods filled the air as we worked our way through this busy market. Brilliant atmosphere, yes, but silently underlying was a tension. Peoples' eyes were fixed upon my mom; faces filled with curiosity and disdain.

First, it was just whispered words, barely audible above the noise of the market, while every time we stopped to buy any fruits, there began to be murmurs, far louder. I then heard bits and snatches of a conversation around: words of accusations filled my ears and made the rage and shame build up inside me.

"Look at her, acting as if she were so different from everybody else."

"She slept her way to the top-that's what she did."

"I heard she's dating some rich billionaire; no wonder her company's doing so well out of nowhere."

The words cut deep, and I felt the rise of anger and defensiveness.

Yet my mom didn't seem fazed by this whispering, her eyes fixed ahead at the stalls, haggling with vendors over prices.

Yet with each step, it was as if the crowd was denser, and murmurs louder.

I looked at mother in amazement, wondering why she did not turn to one of these- people , and defended herself or at least give them a befitting reply, but her face did not budge, as it was on a spot before them.

It wasn't until we stopped to buy some fresh bread from a stall that the words became too much to bear. A woman, her face twisted with malice, gave a particularly vicious remark: "Well, well, well, look at the little homewrecker's daughter. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?"

Something inside of me snapped. Anger welled up in me, the urge to lash out at the woman for my mom’s sake and mine. But the touch of my mom's hand on my arm stopped me; her eyes had cautioned me not to lose my temper.

"Let's just ignore them, Sophia," she said in a low, even voice.

But I just couldn't let them go. The words cut too deep, made me too vulnerable. We walked away from the stall, got back into the car, and I turned to Mommy-my voice a loud shout.

"Mom, you can't keep me in the dark for long. Who is this man!