Sereia's POV
"Do you know what you just did?" I shouted at my useless excuse of a mother. "Do you know who that man was?"
"No, but he looks rich," she smiled. "Mommy is proud of you."
I'm so angry at her.
She would always come back to me like everything was fine.
"That's my boss, mom," I told her. "You just admitted to my boss that I take drugs!"
She flinched from my shouting.
It's so hard to stay mad at her because she just always looks so innocent.
"Please, just leave," I begged. "I'll give you whatever money you need."
"I'm not going," she said. "Not until your father passes on."
"He's fine," I bitterly spat. "Now go."
"Sereia, your father has liver failure and his organs are shutting down."
What? He was fine when I left.
"I don't want to hear your lies," I told her. "I'll rather hear that from a doctor than a crackhead."
"The doctors will say the same thing," she frowned.
I looked at all those specialized machines attached to my father.
"Baby Sereia," she called me. "Mommy isn't going anywhere. I've already missed one funeral, I'm not missing this one too."
"Stop speaking to me like a child," I held back my tears.
"But you are one," she said. "You are my child."
I couldn't stand it anymore. I couldn't stand her.
I walked out of the room and headed down the hallway.
When I turned the corner, I could see at least ten hookers surrounding Elliot.
I don't know why, but they loved it here.
Feeding off of grieving family members was their passion.
"Move on," I announced with gritted teeth.
Anyone in this area could tell that Elliot had money.
From his extravagant pantsuit to the way how he styled his dark hair.
He's just a sitting target.
"Now," I said and they continued on their way.
He stood up and walked to me. "Thanks for the save."
I looked down. "Look Elliot, about what my mother said earlier-"
He shook his head. "We'll talk about that later. Are you okay?"
I watched him silently.
I'm supposed to be angry at him, but he keeps being considerate.
Now is a good time for him the be the asshole that people describe him as.
I need him to give me something that will make me hate him.
I need to remember that he is the person who willingly married Olivia.
"I'm fine."
"And your father?"
"He's dying so not fine," I said bluntly.
I'm so upset. He's drank himself to death.
Elliot's eyes investigated mine like they were the damn police, so I looked down.
"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asked and I snapped.
"My father is dying so no, everything is not okay, Elliot!"
I need to get high.
Before I knew it, he pulled me into a hug.
"Let me go," I tried to push away from him but his grip tightened. "Elliot!"
He ignored my request and I fought him until I ended up in tears.
No, no, no!
"Please, just let me go," I barely managed to say as my throat closed in and my vision blurred with tears.
My voice cracked. "Please."
I can't cry in front of him. He's seen enough of my tears.
I'm so weak for the amount of times he's caught me.
To make it even worse, I was still carrying around the pain of his rejection.
How he left me on the bed like I was a slut.
I wasn't good enough for him and I wasn't good enough for my father.
The way how my father lost himself when he lost his favourite daughter hurts me.
When I left, he didn't even give me so much as a phone call.
I cried my eyes out in Elliot's arms as my face pressed against his chest.
I need to get it together.
I'm just filled with so much anger.
Anger towards him, my mother, my father, Olivia, Violet, and myself. The list just goes on and it makes me even angrier.
He pushed me away before he pulled out his handkerchief and began wiping away my wipes.
He then shot me one of his comforting smiles before forcing my lips to smile.
"Even your cries are beautiful," he softly spoke as he wiped one more tear.
I ignored him as I sat down on the seat. "Are you going to fire me?"
Another wave of anger surged through my body when I remembered that my shitty mother outed me.
If I lost my chance to get my revenge because of my mother's big mouth, I'll loose it.
He sat beside me. "Were you on drugs while we were in New York?"
"No."
"Well, why would I fire you?"
"I'm an addict," I admitted. "I'll probably use some when I get home."
I know that I was supposed to lie and convince him that I'm sober. However, I just want to admit one truth to him.
"Well, I'm going to trust that you don't," he said. "You'll have to take regular drug tests."
I stayed quiet. I hate my mother's big mouth so much.
"I'm not doing this for me alone, Sereia. You know that right?" he asked. "This is to help you too."
That's easy for him to say.
He's never relied on drugs for his happiness a day in his life.
He's not the one living in a shithole of a life.
He's rich and has a good marriage. On the other hand, my dead sister won't stop haunting me.
"I can't. It doesn't work like that," I said. "Just fire me already."
I'm not thinking straight so I just start saying things.
I didn't consider that I was throwing away my chance for revenge.
"You can and you're gonna try," he said. "If you can do it in New York then you can do it in Chicago."
It's not that I don't want to stay clean, it's just that it gets so overwhelming when I'm alone.
If I do this that means I'm going to have to pick up a whole lot more hobbies to distract myself.
I wish he was a hobby.
Whenever I'm with him, I don't think about my sister unless she's mentioned.
I don't overthink and go into a rabbit hole.
"Between me and you, I don't want you to leave," he said. "I know I sound selfish saying this, but please try for my sake. I'll lose it if I have to fire you."
I nodded in agreement because I knew that I didn't want to lose him either, although I'll never admit it to him.
He smiled in relief.
"Tell me the truth, Sereia," he said as his smile dropped.
My heart began to beat faster as guilt filled me.
There are so many truths I haven't told him.
"Is this the neighbourhood you grew up in?" he asked. "From the way you navigated this hospital and talked to those sex workers, it all seemed like you know a lot about this place."
I felt embarrassed and afraid of his judgment.
Olivia tormented Violet because she was lower class.
There isn't a doubt in my mind that he wouldn't do the same.
Elliot might be a nice person, but he is no saint. He's insensitive to the lower class.
I couldn't blame him.
He grew up around only rich folk. He probably didn't even know others were less fortunate until he grew older.
"Yes."
A smile grew on his face and I assumed he was trying not to laugh at me.
"I'm proud of you," he said.
"For what?" I asked confused.
"For coming from a neighbourhood like this and making a name for yourself," he answered. "You impress me."
I waited for him to make a mockery of me, but he never did. Instead, he complimented me.
We fell into a comfortable silence as we leaned back unto the wall.
From a stressful workday to sharing an intimate moment with him, to then hearing that my father is about to die.
It had been a long day, and I dreaded the moment he'd say he had to go home.
He, my comforter, would be gone and I would be shivering in my negative thoughts again.
"Elliot?" I broke the silence.
"Mmm?" he asked, trying to get some rest from our long day.
"Could you stay with me until morning?" I felt nervous.
He opened his eyes and turned to me. "Why are you asking? That goes without saying."
I smiled as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest.
I'm angry at him for how he left me earlier, but right now I was tired and needed comfort.
"Now can we finally get some sleep?" he asked.
"Yes, please," I quickly replied before closing my eyes.
...
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