03

Sophia’s POV

The car hummed beneath me, smooth and expensive the kind of car that cost more than my dad made in a year.

I stared out the window at the city passing by with buildings blurring.

When I woke up this morning the bed was empty and cold.

He was gone.

With my head pounding from the hangover, my body aching in places I didn't know could ache.

He left a stack of cash.

Hundreds or may thousands I didn't count cause I didn’t need them cause taking that money would mean I was something I wasn't ready to admit I'd become.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

His dark eyes.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him.

Every single time

I pressed my thighs together shame burning through me.

This was supposed to be a one-night thing. No strings attached just two strangers using each other to forget.

But damn.

The thought of him made me wet it made my skin tingle, it made me want to do things I had no business wanting.

I wondered if I'd ever see him again.

I wondered if I even wanted to.

I rubbed my face with both hands, trying to push the thoughts away.

"Miss?" The chauffeur's voice cut through my spiraling. He was looking at me in the rearview mirror. "We're almost there."

I nodded not trusting my voice.

Almost there.

Almost at my mother's house.

What was I thinking?

I shoukd have fought dad about this then maybe I didn’t have to live under the same roof with this god forsaken woman.

Speaking of dad, I'd lied to him when I got home this morning.

I told him I was at Mia’s, we decided to spend the last night together.

If only he knew.

The car pulled through a massive iron gate.

I blinked.

The mansion rose up in front of me like something out of a movie with white columns, tall windows. Winding driveway lined with perfectly trimmed hedges.

This was where my mother lived.

This was where I'd be staying.

The chauffeur pulled the door open, and I stepped out.

My sneakers crunched on the gravel as I clutched my bag to my chest suddenly feeling very small.

The front door swung open and there she was.

Diana.

My mother.

She looked exactly the same maybe even better. Her hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place. Her dress was expensive and fit her like it was made for her and her makeup was flawless.

She looked like she'd stepped out of a magazine.

"Sophia!" She threw her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug making me stiffen.

I couldn't help it I didn't know how to hug this woman this stranger who happened to be my mother.

"Oh, my baby," she breathed into my hair. "I've missed you so much. You look so grown up so beautiful."

I stood there, frozen, my arms hanging at my sides.

She pulled back her hands on my shoulders.

Her eyes were bright with excitement.

"Come in come in you must be tired”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the house.

I followed like a puppet on strings

The inside was even more impressive than the outside.

Marble floors.

High ceilings.

A chandelier that probably cost more than my dad's entire house paintings on the walls and flowers in crystal vases.

It was beautiful.

"Your room is this way," Diana said practically skipping up the stairs.

I followed her down a long hallway lined with doors.

She stopped at one and pushed it open with a flourish.

"Ta-da!"

The room was huge.

Bigger than our entire apartment back home.

A four-poster bed with white curtains, a vanity with a lighted mirror, a walk-in closet and a window that overlooked the gardens.

It was beautiful.

It didn't feel like mine.

"Do you like it?" Diana asked her eyes searching my face. "I wasn't sure about the color scheme, but the designer said—"

"It's perfect," I cut her off my voice sounded flat even to my own ears. "Thank you."

She beamed.

I felt sick.

"I know this is a big adjustment," she said, stepping closer. "Living with me, new city and school but I want you to know, I'm so happy you're here. We're going to have so much fun together… you know, mother-daughter time."

Mother-daughter time.

Where was that when I was nine? Ten? Eleven?

Where was that when I was crying myself to sleep because my dad couldn't afford the school trip and I didn't know who to call?

Where was that when I had my first period and had to figure it out alone?

"Where's your husband?" I asked changing the subject. I didn't want to talk about mother-daughter time.

I didn't want to pretend like we were a family.

Diana's face lit up even more.

"Thorne? Oh he's away on business. He travels a lot but he'll be back in a few days. He's so excited to meet you." She paused. "I've told him so much about you."

I doubted that.

What could she possibly have told him? That I was eight when she left? That she didn't know my favorite color or my middle name or that I was terrified of the dark?

I forced a smile.