Chapter 5: His Father

SANDRA’S POV

The morning air is cooler than I expect. It hits my skin the second I step outside the hotel, sharp enough to wake me properly this time, not like the slow, blurry waking inside that room.

This is real, Cars move past me. People walk by carrying coffee cups and talking about normal things while my entire life feels like it cracked open overnight.

I pull my jacket tighter around me and walk. No destination at first, just movement, just distance.

Distance from Austin. From Pamela. From the hotel room. From him.

My phone buzzes in my hand. I don’t look at it. I already know who it is. Austin. Again. I stop at the side of the road, exhaling slowly, my fingers tightening slightly around the phone before I finally glance down.

Austin Calling……I decline it immediately. The screen lights up again. This time a message. *Babe, where are you? Let’s met.*

Another message comes in before I can even lock the screen. * Stop ignoring me. We need to talk.*

Something cold settles deeper in my chest while I type back quickly.*We’re done. Don’t call me again.* I hit send.

Then block him before he can respond. The silence after feels……strange. Not better just different.

My phone buzzes again. Pamela. I don’t even open it. Blocked, simple. 

I exhale slowly, but the pressure sitting inside my chest still doesn’t fully ease. Like something is lodged there refusing to move no matter how many times I breathe.

My phone rings again. Different name.

Lena. Of course. I stare at it. I answer on the third call, pressing the phone to my ear without slowing my steps. “I’m fine,” I say immediately.

There’s a pause on the other end. Then, “Sandra…… come on.” Her voice is calm, but firm.

“I said I’m fine,” I repeat, sharper this time. “Sandra…….” I hang up. I don’t have the energy for this. Not right now. Not when everything inside me still feels wrong.

I slide my phone back into my bag and keep walking, faster now, like if I stop I’ll start thinking again, and if I start thinking, I’ll remember too much.

Austin. Pamela. 

The bed. The hotel. Him.

My steps slow slightly, damn it. That was a mistake. One reckless night. That’s all. It didn’t mean anything. It cannot mean anything.

I force myself to focus on something else. Classes start again tomorrow. The thought lands harder than expected.

Suddenly my mind floods with unfinished projects, deadlines, sketch drafts spread across my apartment floor, internship applications sitting incomplete in my email.

That’s my life. That’s what I worked for before all this chaos started swallowing everything else.

Not men, betrayal. Not heartbreak. I stop walking slowly. What the hell am I doing? Walking around Los Angeles like my entire future disappeared because of one relationship?

Absolutely not. I’ve worked too damn hard for that. Late nights bent over drafts. Coffee-fueled breakdowns before presentations. Dad quietly checking on me at two in the morning while pretending he wasn’t worried. “You don’t have to prove yourself all the time,” he always says.

But I always do. And I’m not throwing my life away over Austin fucking Clayton.

My phone buzzes again. I ignore it. Instead, I pull up the unfinished internship application sitting in my drafts.

My thumb hovers for a second. Then I open it. Right there. On the sidewalk, cars passing, people moving. Life continuing.

Good. Let it. Because I’m still here too. I start filling it in. Name. Details. Portfolio. My fingers still shake slightly, but this time I don’t stop.

I finish it. And when I finally hit submit, something inside me steadies just a little.

I let out a slow breath. “Okay,” I whisper quietly to myself. This matters. This is mine. I tuck my phone away and finally turn toward home.

I’ll deal with everything else later. But at least now I’m moving again instead of drowning.

*********

Two days later, I stand outside Austin’s house beside my father while he talks about investment projections like this is any normal afternoon.

I honestly don’t know why I agreed to come. Closure maybe. Or maybe part of me just needed proof that I’m really done with him.

The front door is unlocked. Dad steps inside first while I follow behind him slowly.

Voices drift from the living room. Male voices. One familiar. One……My stomach drops instantly.

No way. Austin turns first the second we enter. Relief flashes across his face immediately. “Dad……This is Sandra," he says easily, slipping an arm around my waist possessively. "My girlfriend."

I stiffen. Girlfriend. I am NOT his girlfriend. But before I open my mouth to correct him.

Then I see him. Kelvin.

Everything inside me stops. For one horrifying second nobody moves. Nobody breathes. My pulse slams hard against my ribs while shock crashes through me so violently I almost take a step backward.

This cannot be happening. Kelvin looks exactly the same as he did in that hotel room. Calm. Perfectly put together.

But I catch it anyway. That tiny shift in his expression when he sees me standing beside Austin.

Recognition. Shock. Something darker right underneath it. Then it disappears instantly behind cold professionalism.

Austin’s arm tightens lightly around my waist while completely oblivious to the fact that the room suddenly feels like it’s collapsing around me.

Dad smiles easily. “Sandra, this is Kelvin Clayton.” Kelvin. Clayton. My blood runs cold. Austin’s father.

Oh my God. The room suddenly feels too warm. Too small. I can barely hear anything over the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

Kelvin steps forward first because apparently one of us has to function like a normal human being right now. “Sandra,” he says smoothly, his voice completely controlled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Liar. I stare at the hand he extends toward me. This feels insane. Like some sick joke the universe decided to play specifically on me.

But Dad is watching. Austin is watching. So I force myself to move. The second our hands touch, heat rushes sharply up my arm.

Exactly like the hotel room. Exactly like his hands against my skin two nights ago. I yank my hand back almost immediately. “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Clayton,” I manage somehow.

My voice sounds steady. Miraculously steady considering internally I’m seconds away from losing my damn mind.

Kelvin’s eyes stay on mine a second too long. And suddenly the memory of his mouth against mine hits me so hard I almost feel physically sick.

He remembers too. I can see it. Every second of it. He turns calmly back toward my father like he didn’t spend the night inside me less than forty-eight hours ago. “Shall we continue our discussion, Joseph?”

Dad nods immediately, completely unaware. Austin still stands close beside me while my entire body feels locked in panic.

I can’t breathe properly. Can’t think properly. This can’t be real. I glance toward Kelvin again accidentally. Big mistake. Because he’s already looking at me, not enough for anybody else to notice and somehow that’s worse.

Because beneath all that calm control, I can see it now. He’s just as shaken as I am. The realization should make me feel better. Instead it terrifies me even more. And I realize with slowly dawning horror: This is only the beginning.