21- I'm sorry

My chest is up and down while I run to cross the small garden and enter the villa, ready to face Ethan after a long speech that I mentally prepared during the drive.

As soon as I realize that the door is slightly open I don't think twice before opening the door and entering my house, but I stop at my steps and my heart rises in my throat when my eyes cross the figure of my friend with red cheeks, while in front of her Ethan is about to kiss her, making me understand that Meredith was not lying.

The first thing that comes to mind is to run up to the two and slap Ethan instantly, but then I realize how relaxed the woman in front of him is right now and I know she wouldn't like to be interrupted.

While my chest continues to move frantically I take a step back, still unable to take my eyes off the scene that I find in front of my eyes.

I put a hand on my chest as I look closely at Ethan's focused expression, who keeps his eyes open to look at my friend, while Meredith has her lids closed.

I tilt my head with a disappointed grimace as I look at his contracted profile: it's probably the same look he gives to all the women he tries to seduce, the same way he looked at me last night, but I'm sure Meredith will let herself go between his arms, instead of giving him a bruise like I did.

I clench the inside of my cheek between my teeth, as the anger inside me leaves place to a strange feeling of nausea.

'I'm sorry, dad .'- I think mentally, taking advantage of the fact that Ethan is almost turned from behind and taking another step back, and then silently turn my heels with the intention of running away from this house, even if I have not the slightest idea of where to go at this hour, but even before crossing the threshold, Meredith's voice forces me to plant my feet on the ground and narrow my eyes:

"Valerie?" - I throw my head back in frustration, but at the same time relieved without understanding the reason, but I don't turn to them until the moment when Ethan asks absently:

"Valerie what?"

I let my arms drop to the sides of my hips, noticing that Ethan still hasn't realized my presence, while Meredith points her eyes straight into mine, but before the man beside her notices my presence, I sigh heavily :

"Act like I'm not there." - my voice echoes in the living room, as I look out of the corner of my eye at Ethan open his eyelids again, while the muscles of his shoulders become more voluminous than usual, but when I understand that he wants to avoid my presence, I decide to please him, indeed, please both of them: my heels hit the floor loudly, as I walk towards my room with my head held high, pretending not to be at all interested in what the two are going to do on my sofa.

I stop again when I close the door behind me, starting to stare at the floor indefinitely and staying impaled in the middle of my room.

I can't move a muscle and I don't understand what's wrong with me, as I let the scene just come back before my eyes again, imagining that the two go on and start swapping saliva a few meters away from my room, but I try to restrain myself and I am convinced that it is better to let Meredith be disillusioned alone.

He's the only person I care about who doesn't hate me and I don't want her to start doing it because of some bastard.

I take a quick glance at my reflection in the mirror, then pop into place when I notice my sad expression.

I hasten to put on a stern face and return to reality, then I squeeze the phone in my fingers and decide to make my father understand that there will be no dinner today. Neither today nor ever.

*Today I can't. Will see for another day.*

I send to my father before I repent, but I turn down the ringtone volume without giving him a chance to answer or call me to complain as usual, then I throw the phone on the bed, and then start unbuttoning my shirt for the heat in my bedroom.

I drop the garment on the floor and also take off the tight skirt, finally starting to breathe more oxygen, while I remain only in my underwear and with a tight vest that covers my chest, and then throw myself on the soft blankets on my stomach, sinking the head in the pillow hurt and enraged at the same time, letting my curls fall in disarray among the numerous dark pads beside my head.

My life has always been a mess, a mix of fake people ready to take advantage of my fame, but at least they always made me feel important.

Since Ethan has set foot in this house, however, he has done nothing but point out my flaws, making me pass for aggressive and spoiled at the same time.

Meredith is even changing, so much that I felt like someone else was standing in front of me a while ago.

I start nibbling lightly the tip of my tongue, turning my head to the side to look out the window pane not very far from my bed, although my red locks prevent me from doing so, but I'm so down in this moment that I'm not able to lift the arm to move the curls.

Only now I realize that I am destroyed, when my eyes start to get heavy, helping me not to think about anything else and closing my eyelids with the hope of being able to fall asleep not to be tortured by my thoughts further.

***

I snap my tongue on the palate, assuming a grimace for the kneaded mouth, and then stroke the pillow again and let a sleepy moan escape from my lips.

I slowly open my eyes and begin to stretch, bringing my arms up and starting to stare at the ceiling with narrowed and slightly misted eyes from having just woken up.

Moving my eyes from my chandelier to the sky outside the closed window I realize that it is already late afternoon and the sun is on the edge of the horizon, which makes me smile spontaneously, but it is not a few seconds that I understand why I woke up : my phone vibrates constantly, on the opposite side of my pillow, so I hasten to grab it to turn it off, sure it's my father, but my eyes widen when I read the illuminated name on the skeleton:

"Jack?" - my question comes out with a mixture of indignation and surprise: I thought I was clear this morning with that asshole.

"Er ..." - I hear him clear his throat on the other side of the line, while I squint when silence falls for a couple of seconds, making my eyes rise to the sky:

"What else do you want?" - I insist, bringing a hand in front of my eyes in frustration and inhaling deeply, but I am struck when he hurries to confess:

"I'm sorry." - he says with such a certain resignation that I get chills.