chapter 3

LISA’S POV:

I woke up feeling an intense pain coursing through my body, my muscles sore and aching from the night before. The throbbing in my lower body was particularly sharp, and as I shifted under the sheets, the memories of last night began to creep back into my mind, each one sending a wave of nausea through me.

I turned my head slowly and saw him lying next to me, the man from last night. His broad chest rose and fell steadily with each breath, his dark hair still slightly damp from the shower he must’ve taken before falling asleep. He looked peaceful, almost serene, as if the events of last night hadn’t impacted him at all. But for me… everything had changed.

The flashbacks came in fragments at first. His cold, detached offer. My hesitation. The pain of his touch, the pressure of his body against mine. I had been so numb last night, emotionally deadened by everything that had happened with Nathan. But now, in the pale morning light, I felt everything. The shame, the guilt, the disgust. It all hit me at once, and I could feel the tears welling up behind my eyes.

How could I have let this happen? How could I have sunk so low? The thought echoed in my head as I quietly slid out of the bed, trying not to wake him. My legs wobbled beneath me, sore and weak, as I bent down to pick up the gown I had discarded on the floor last night. I pulled it over my body quickly, my hands shaking as I did. I wanted to leave. I needed to get out of here before the reality of what I’d done consumed me whole.

As I moved toward the door, my eyes caught sight of a small envelope on the nightstand. I froze. The payment. I had almost forgotten about the money. For a moment, I stood there, staring at it, my mind racing. Six thousand dollars. It wasn’t just a number anymore. It was a symbol of everything I’d given up, everything I’d allowed myself to become in one desperate, heartbroken moment.

I hesitated, my hands trembling as I reached for the envelope. It felt heavier than I expected. Much heavier. My breath hitched as I opened it, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn’t want to look inside, didn’t want to confirm what I already suspected, but my fingers acted on their own, pulling out the stack of bills. There was more than six thousand in there. Much more.

I stood there for what felt like an eternity, clutching the envelope, my thoughts a jumbled mess. Should I take it? Leave it? Every part of me screamed to throw it on the bed and walk away, but the other part—the part that was broken, the part that wanted to escape everything—was already calculating how this extra money could change things. It could help me get out, help me start over. Maybe it was a price I was willing to pay for a fresh start.

I glanced back at him, still fast asleep, oblivious to the storm raging inside me. It was almost six in the morning, the sky outside just starting to lighten, the day not fully broken yet. I had time. I could sneak out without him noticing, without having to face him again.

With trembling hands, I shoved the envelope into my bag. I hated myself for it, but I knew I was taking it. I had already crossed the line. What was the point in turning back now?

I made my way out of the room quietly, slipping into the hallway and pressing the button for the elevator. Each second felt like an hour as I waited, terrified that he might wake up and come after me. But the elevator doors finally slid open with a soft ding, and I stepped inside, relieved. I leaned back against the cool metal wall and exhaled slowly, my heart still pounding.

When the elevator doors opened again on the ground floor, I walked quickly through the lobby, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might be around. I felt disgusting, like everyone who saw me would know exactly what I’d done. I wanted to disappear, to erase last night from my memory. But no matter how fast I walked, I couldn’t outrun the shame.

As I neared the reception desk, the receptionist glanced up at me. I froze, panic gripping me for a moment. She might have seen me coming in last night, or worse, she might know who I was with. I couldn’t risk anyone asking questions.

“Excuse me,” I said, my voice barely steady, “if anyone asks about me, just tell them I had a meeting, okay? I… I won’t be coming back.”

The receptionist gave me a curious look but nodded. “Of course, ma’am.”

I hurried out of the building, each step quicker than the last as the day began to brighten around me. The air was still cool, the city not fully awake yet, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t look back. I needed to get out of here, away from everything. I reached Nathan’s car, which I had the spare key for, and slipped inside, the leather seat cold against my skin.

Nathan. The thought of him made my chest tighten with a fresh wave of hurt. He was never going to marry me. He didn’t love me. And after last night, I didn’t even recognize the person I had become. I was no longer the woman who had waited for something real, something meaningful. I had shattered that part of myself.

I pulled out of the parking lot, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as I headed for the airport. I needed to leave, to disappear, to go somewhere far away where no one knew me. Somewhere I could start over.

When I arrived at the airport, the sun had fully risen, casting the sky in pale gold and pink hues. I parked the car in the long-term lot and made my way inside, buying a ticket for the first available flight to California. I didn’t even care where I ended up; I just needed to be somewhere else.

The line was short, and before I knew it, I was seated on the plane, the hum of the engines lulling me into a strange, detached calm. I stared out the window, lost in my thoughts, until exhaustion finally took over and I drifted off to sleep.

I woke to the sound of the captain’s voice announcing our descent into Los Angeles. My heart pounded in my chest again, but this time with a mix of anxiety and relief. I was here. A new city. A new life. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but anything was better than what I had left behind.

As I stepped off the plane, I felt the warm California air wash over me. It felt different. Lighter, maybe. Like I could breathe again. I made my way through the terminal and out to the taxi stand, flagging down the first cab I saw.

The driver, an older man with kind eyes, looked at me through the rearview mirror as I slid into the back seat. “Where to?”

I hesitated, unsure of where I even wanted to go. “Anywhere but here,” I said, my voice soft. “Where’s the best place in California?”

He chuckled softly. “Well, you’re in LA, so you’re already in one of the best places.”

I nodded but didn’t feel the excitement I thought I would. I didn’t want somewhere fun or lively. I wanted somewhere quiet, somewhere I could be alone. “Take me somewhere in California where no one goes for fun.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask questions. “Got it,” he said, starting the car and pulling away from the curb.

As the city blurred past the windows, I leaned back in the seat, the weight of the envelope still heavy in my bag, and closed my eyes, trying to forget.