CHAPTER 4

Tessa’s POV

Done being the good girl.

Evan’s name lit up my screen like it had the right to interrupt my life, like it hadn’t already done enough damage just by existing in my contacts.

I didn’t answer the phone.

I didn’t even open the message that popped up immediately.

I slid backward, slow and careful, the way you move when you’re hiding away from responsibility. The caretaker’s voice floated in and out of my ears, firm but tired, the voice of one who had been patient for far too long.

“Miss Tessa?” She called out.

My breath caught halfway into my lungs as I turned towards the stairs. I hated how my chest burned with that familiar mix of shame and panic.

Outside, I walked fast. Not thinking, just moving. Streetlights streaked past, blurring into long yellow lines. Somewhere behind me, a generator hummed. Laughter spilled out of an open car window and disappeared just as quickly. The city didn’t care that I was breaking apart.

My phone started ringing when I was meters away from home. I stared at it like it had personally offended me. The screen kept lighting up, going dark, lighting up again.

I left it ring longer than necessary before hissing and sitting down on a pavement.

When I finally picked it up, I didn’t say hello.

“Tessa”.

My stepmother’s voice came through, controlled, the way it always was. I rolled my eyes, knowing fully well why she just called.

“Why did you break up with Evan?” she asked.

No greeting, no concern. Just straight to the point.

I closed my eyes, my chest tightening, the words stuck to my throat.

“He cheated,” I said.

The sentence hung there, heavy but simple. Silence followed.

Then, she exhaled, slow and almost amused. “Is that all?”

I opened my eyes. “What do you mean, is that all?”

“Tessa,” she said my name the way people do when they think you’re being unnecessarily dramatic. “Men stray. It happens. That alone isn’t a reason to throw away something promising”

My fingers stiffened. “He slept with someone else,” I said, slower this time, like maybe she hadn’t heard me properly. “More than once.”

Another pause.

I could picture her now-sitting upright, legs crossed, lips pursed, already shaking her head.

“You young girls make everything sound so serious”, she said. “Cheating isn’t the end of the world. It’s not like he beat you.”

Something inside me shifted. Like shovel scraping across the floor of my chest.

I sat up.

“Can I ask you something?” I said.

There was a brief hesitation. “Go on.”

I pressed the phone tighter to my ear. “When my dad was sleeping with Aunt Sasha…was that also not the end of the world?”

Silence.

Real silence this time. Thick and uncomfortable but satisfying because I knew I just hit a nerve.

Jazz music echoed somewhere down the streets.

“Tessa” she said slowly, “that is a very disrespectful thing to say.”

I smiled, though there was nothing warm in it. “I’m just trying to understand,” I said. “Because if cheating isn’t serious, then I guess you should not have divorced him. Right?”

Her breath sharpened on the other end. “You have no idea what you’re talking about”. She clicked her tongue. “Your father was sick, difficult. I stayed, didn’t I ?”

“But you still left, didn’t you?” I snapped.

“That is completely different”, she snapped back.

“Oh, is it?” I asked.

Another pause.

Longer this time.

“You know,” she said, “Evan is not just anybody. Do you know how many people would kill for a connection like that?”

I closed my eyes again.

Here it is.

“He’s doing very well for himself…

“You called me “, I interrupted slowly “because you badly needed that connection?”

She didn’t deny it.

“ I called you,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “because you’re being emotional and short sighted. Evan could make life easier for both of us. Go get him back and stop being a baby” she cut the call without allowing me to respond.

I lowered the phone and stared at the dark screen. For a moment, I just sat there, letting the weight of it settle.

Then, I stood up. I wasn’t going back to my apartment and be welcomed by a woman disturbing me to pay up my rent, neither would I be going to sleep in anyone’s place who thought betrayal was something to be budgeted around.

The jazz music coming from a club nearby banged through my head and in the moment, I just knew exactly where I wanted to be. I wanted somewhere chaotic.

As I approached the venue of the club, I noticed the glass door opening and shutting as people went in and out. Some were dressed half naked while some wore clothes close to being called transparent.

You can’t be a robot all the time.

The little girl’s voice slipped in, soft and stubborn. Like she was standing somewhere behind me, arms crossed, watching me pretend I wasn’t about to fall apart.

I pushed the door open.

Light spilled onto me in uneven flashes- blue, red, white. Laughter everywhere, tangled with bass and loud voices. The sharp smell of alcohol.

The bar took a while to find.

When I finally reached it, I leaned against the counter like I needed it to hold me up. I watched the bartender from where I stood. He was too busy burying his face into a woman’s boobs that he did not seem to notice me.

That was fine. It was normal for people to act like I don’t exist.

My eyes caught a long line of alcohol on the shelf, displayed like trophies. I took one and sat down, gulping the contents without mercy.

To my left, a couple swayed together. The man’s hands kept hovering around her body. He laughed when he missed the clasp of her bra.

I looked away.

“Whiskey?”

I turned.

Dark shirt, sleeves rolled. Eyes steady, almost detached, like he wasn’t drowning in the same chaos as everyone else.

Before I could decide, he pressed something cool against my skin. A key. He slid it between my breasts, fingers lingering for a while. I let it happen.

“I guess we’ll meet upstairs then” he said, already backing away. I took the key and placed it on the counter, guessing it would be useful later on.

Back at the bar, I drank again. And again. My thoughts stopped lining up properly. I told myself this was me choosing something. Being reckless. Being free.

I was done being good.

Five relationships. Five times being the understanding girlfriend, shrinking myself so someone else could be comfortable. Always the patient and forgiving one.

Tonight, I wanted to drop it all.

Someone slid onto the stool beside me.

“Beer” he said to the bartender who was disengaged from the woman already.

While he sipped from the bottle, he didn’t acknowledge me at all. Just drank. Quiet. Nonchalantly. Eyes fixed to his phone.

I didn’t mind his silence.

When I stood, unsteady, my fingers closed around the two keys on the counter without thinking. I picked the first one my hand touched. I was sure it was mine.

Upstairs was hushed, carpet swallowing sound, lights low and golden, the noise from the club fading off as I moved further. I looked at the key in my palms.

Room 13.

I unlocked the door.

The room opened around me, rich and indulgent. Heavy curtains. Polished wood. Sheets so white it almost glowed.

No one was there.

I barely made it to the bathroom when I staggered and fell, managing to turn on the shower and let hot water wash all over me. When I was done bathing, I slipped into the first clothing I saw in the wardrobe. Lingerie.

When I stepped out, the room wasn’t empty anymore. He stood near the door.

The quiet man from the bar.

For a second, my brain refused to catch up.

Was I dreaming?

A laugh spilled out of my mouth, thin and shaky. I dragged my fingers through my damp hair, heart hammering.

“Wow” I said softly, staring at him as though he was unreal. “Either I’ve officially lost my grip on reality…or tonight just decided to mess with me one last time.”