I Just Want To Go Home

(TYLER)

"No Tyler, I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about Sasha. You and I can never be friends. His little brother and mother are the only ones who know about this sham arrangement, and certainly the only people who can help you with it. That is what makes them valuable to you." Miles hesitates.

"If I were you, I'd make friends with them. But you chose to fight Sasha. No way will end well for you. You'll only end up hurting yourself."

His response has me in a chokehold. Much as I hate to admit it, it is true. But how can I be friends with them? I remain silent because I don't know what to say. I'm not even sure if Sasha's family will welcome me or even consider being my friends. I doubt they would, especially considering where Sasha got me. Do they even know about that bit? What if they treat me like dirt?

"Check the drawers. There are clean clothes in there and in the closet too. Go shower and try getting some sleep. Maybe all you need is a proper rest to think straight. You might be smarter when you wake up." He turns to leave and the door shuts behind him with a soft click.

I shake my head slowly. With Miles gone, I scuffle through the drawers and find many pairs of pyjamas. I pick one that seems to be my best fit and head off to the bathroom. Everything in this house is exquisite. The bathroom is big enough for ten people. All fixtures in here are golden and the floor is jaded in large marble tiles.

I step into the shower and the first jolt of the cold water makes me gasp. But then the water gets warmer. I lean my head onto the wall and let the water flow on my body. I haven't had a proper shower in months, especially one with hot water and all I want right now is to soak in here. The shower at the camp was nothing close to this one, making the shower I'm used to seem like a faulty garden hose.

There are several shampoos, conditioners and body wash that all smell like lavender and areal, smooth to the touch. Back at the camp, I'd be lucky if I found scraps of leftover bar soap for use. I didn't care that someone used them before me or what kind of skin diseases they had, I just used what was available. After all, I had no options. I wash my body thoroughly, wanting to rid myself of the stench of that filthy bathroom back at the store.

It is only now that I'm taking a close look at my body. I haven't been fully naked for a while, because I didn't want to look at my growing belly. It gave me ulcers. Now that I see it well, I realize why I couldn't hide it despite the baggy clothes I put on. There are so many changes. I can't deny the swell anymore, so I instinctively cup my belly, feeling numb to the touch.

I sigh defeatedly. "Why did you have to come along?" I mumble, circling it. "You've fucked up my life. Royally."

Its size is unsettling. I'm so bony that it sticks out more than I expected it to. That explains why I couldn't hide it anymore. At least now, I'm sure of getting the abortion. Only that Sasha forbids me from doing it before the wedding. Was he serious about the wedding happening this week? Will I have to force a façade at the wedding too? The thought of that alone unsettles me. I'm really hoping it will be a small intimate affair.

I step out of the bathroom, finally satisfied with the scrub. I yank out a large towel and wrap it around my body. I take out another smaller one and wrap it around my head. There are so many towels that this room looks like a spa. Much as I hate it, part of me delights that I'll be living like this from now on. It's been long since I had a place to call home. This treatment feels like what a prince would get. Not me.

I walk over to the counter pick the clean toothbrush and toothpaste and make sure to explore every last corner of my mouth while I brush my teeth. I feel so refreshed. The water felt good on my still painful bruised body and it gave me a bit of relief.

Now that I finally accepted Sasha's proposal, I'm safe beatings from the goons. The only problem is I now live with the asshole who sent them after me to begin with. I bite my jaw as I stare at my reflection in the mirror and decide that's enough self-wallowing for today, then I spit into the sink.

I put on the pyjama I picked, and I'm glad it has a string attached to it. Pregnant or not, I'm so thin that I doubt if the little muscle I have will hold the clothe by itself. Once dressed, I decide to go take a peek out the drapes. It is nighttime, and there isn't much to look at, but still, I want to gaze at the lit fountain on the patio and the garden of roses beneath my window. Everything about this mansion looks like Disney fairyland and not the home of a vile monster.

But then subtle movements catch my eye and I notice another guy right about my age sneaking through the bushes. I squint, wondering just who he might be. This mansion is heavily guarded and I doubt this is a burglar. He seems to know his way around, which rules off the idea completely. But even then, his movements are suspicious. Why is he sneaking around if he belongs here?

Not long after, another figure emerges from the shadows. He follows in the same direction. His movements are stealthy as well, and because of his tall figure, I recognize him. I watch him until he disappears.

It's Sasha.