Chapter Two
Sophia
Have you ever felt the kind of pain where you just want it to end? The kind of pain that urges you to grab onto your chest and just clench your fist to prove just how miserable your life is without even finding another solution to recover. Maybe, just maybe, I shouldn't have overreacted but deep down, I know I made the right choice.
Imagine being in my shoes . . . where you fell in love with the 'right' guy and you felt as if the world was on your side, nothing could've come and hurt you until one day, the 'right' guy decided to simply move on to another girl, leaving you behind all by yourself as you think and think of every single thing you've done while you wonder . . . what the fuck did you even do wrong?
You told him everything, you gave him everything yet what did he ever do to show just how much he appreciates you? None. Simply, none. Maybe I was a little naive, a little too young to even consider myself being in love and thought that the world belongs to just me while I miserably keep on falling in love with the same guy I met in high school, wanting our relationship to last for as long as we both live and yet, it's all crushed.
The same name, 'Michael' keeps on popping up in my head even when I'm swallowing the hard liquor down my throat as I feel it burn, silently regretting each drop of alcohol I put in your body but I need this . . . I need this release, this time off, this one moment to forget about the man I've ever come to love. I just need this one time, to finally let go.
That's why I can't seem to remember why I wake up in a room but not my own, causing my eyes to blink for a few times, trying to make sure that this is not some sort of silly dream but a reality where pain and misery is all and true. Then again, how bad can it get when I end up waking to a beautiful stranger beside me . . . who I can't help but think that his name is Derrick?
My eyes widen as soon as I find his face inches from mine with his hand around my waist, making me recall back of the events last night—mentally cursing myself at the sudden memories flowing by, showing me how I was acting and how foolish I was to even kiss him before everything goes black; leaving me to mentally muttering curses under my breath.
''This is not happening, this is not happening, no, no no, not to me.'' I keep on muttering under my breath before slamming my mouth shut, eyes wide at the sight of him slowly opening his eyes.
As soon as our eyes begin to pierce into one another, we scream in unison before I start to push myself off the bed and fall onto the ground with a loud thud, wanting to grab onto some sort of clothing on the ground in order to cover my body and luckily, I find the same pair of blouse I was wearing yesterday to be laying around.
''Did we have sex? D—did we even, ugh!'' I put the shirt on as I look around for my pair of jeans, eyes wandering around the room before turning to look at him; seeing him sitting on his bed with a shirt covering his body and a pair of sweatpants which causes my brows to furrow at the sight, instantly calming me down slightly. ''We didn't . . . did we?'' I ask.
Just as he's about to respond, I immediately cup my own face as soon as I remember myself standing in front of a miserably beautiful stranger and must look like a complete crap which causes me to quickly step out of the room to find myself looking at a young boy staring back at me in surprise as soon as I scream.
''Were you in my dad's room?'' The boy asks, raising an eyebrow with curiosity.
''Uh . . . uh, where's the bathroom?'' I stutter, trying to cover up my bare legs and only thanking myself in my head for not being fully naked but to only be sleeping in my undergarments or I would've just thrown myself on the streets to be hit by a car because as far as I can remember, my life seems to be going on in the wrong direction.
''Straight to your left,'' He replies and I nod my head before quickly making a run for it, closing the door behind me as soon as I've finally stepped inside the bathroom—looking up in the mirror to see my reflection, messed up hair sticking out all over the place with my mascara smudged down to make me look like a panda and my eyes red as if I spent the whole night out doing reckless things.
I immediately splash water onto my face which unfortunately, happened to be a huge mistake because as soon as the cold water hits my face, I end up hitting my head against the cabinet. My mouth opens wide at the sudden bump, letting my hand to readjust the water temperature, slowly wiping off my mascara with an unused wet tissue on the counter.
''So, you didn't sleep with a beautiful stranger, you just went to his house because apparently, you fell asleep on the ground in a bar in New York City. You're surely living the dream, Sophia . . . congrats to you,'' I mutter under my breath as I stare at my own reflection, somehow wanting to just slam my face against the mirror but I quickly look away.
To my surprise, a knock appears on the door.
''Are you okay in there?'' The familiar voice asks, making me close the tap immediately and try to fix my hair using my fingers. ''Look, nothing happened last night if that's what you're worried about—can you just step out of the bathroom for a little so we can have a proper conversation where I'm able to see your face and vice versa?'' He asks, causing me to roll my eyes at how awkward he's trying to even speak to me.
I turn to open the door, seeing Derrick standing near the door with his eyes looking down into mine before taking a few steps back, letting me step out.
''So, tell me what exactly happened last night. Did I say something awfully stupid that I should just hang myself right now or it was completely normal and I shouldn't overreact?'' I ask, both of my dark brown eyes continue to look into his while I try to look for answers, probably just wanting him to shake his head and prove me wrong because for all I know, I'm very good at leaving a bad first impression and it's such a surprise to even find myself being awake in his bedroom and not being left in the streets.
He rubs the back of his neck as he clears his throat, ''Actually, you were just pretty drunk but you didn't say anything too stupid. You were just being yourself if I think that you're drunk self is yourself but anyways . . . how much do you even remember?'' He replies before asking me a question, trying his best to keep his distance.
''Not much. Just that we went to a bar and I had a couple of drinks before everything just went blank,'' I reply, eyes wandering to a smaller figure behind him to see the boy staring back at us, causing Derrick to follow my gaze.
''Brody, can you wait outside with Uncle Steve?'' The beautiful man says, causing the young boy named Brody to nod his head before grabbing onto his bag. ''Don't forget your lunch, it's on the kitchen counter.'' He adds as the young boy disappears from sight, letting me look back at the man in front of me—not knowing what else to say or even how to react.
I clear my throat, ''So, Derrick . . . you're married?''
My eyes wander down to look for his wedding band but I find the ring finger empty, causing me to look back at him before looking around the walls to find any pictures of his wife hanging around but only pictures of him and his son are available for me to see. ''I was married if that's what you're curious about and my name's not Derrick, Sophia . . . I've told you for god knows how many times and I don't think that my name is even hard to remember.'' He replies.
''You mean, you're not Derrick?'' I raise an eyebrow, ''If you're not Derrick, then who are you?'' My question seems to have caused him to smirk as he leans the side of his shoulder against the wall with one hand shoved inside his sweatpants' pocket, trying to not find my question to be entertaining but so far, it's cheering up his morning.
He leans back after looking down at his wrist watch, ''Just give me a few minutes to get ready because I have to send my son to school and after that, I'd like to treat you for breakfast if you even consider putting your pants on.'' He replies, glancing down at my bare legs before walking back towards his bedroom, leaving me to scoff.
As soon as I reach into his bedroom, I quickly grab onto my pair of jeans on the ground but to only meet with a disgusting smell which causes me to follow the scent as it leads straight to my blouse, causing my nose to cringe in disgust. ''For god's sake, Sophia . . . were you really sleeping in the streets?'' I groan in annoyance at myself.
''Actually, you were rolling around on the streets.'' He replies before handing me a white sweatshirt, ''Here . . . you can wear this, anything's better than that, right?'' He gestures down at my shirt, making me look down at the sweatshirt to find it bigger than my body and only to realise that it fits perfectly to the man none other than Derrick himself or should I call him 'the-man-not-named-Derrick' because apparently, that's not even his name.
''I was rolling on the streets?'' I furrow my brows as I take my blouse off with my nose still cringing in disgust as soon as I find him to be in his walk-in closet, letting me have my own space to quickly change. It doesn't take me long to put my pair of jeans and sweatshirt on and it doesn't even take me long either to notice just how his sweatshirt smells just like him.
He walks out, ''Yeah and when we got here, you ended up taking your clothes off because they were too dirty for your liking. That's why you went to bed naked,'' He replies, glancing down at my body—even making me question myself if I did see him smile for a couple of seconds but I must've just had something in my eye.
''That was some pretty disgusting shit,'' I breathe out.
We both walk out of his apartment with me trailing behind him, only able to watch him stand tall in perfect posture as he rocks out that Armani suit. My eyes are not able to look away from the beauty in front of me even though we barely even know each other but there's no denying the fact that he's an eye candy. The way his cologne even matches the sweatshirt I'm currently wearing leaves me to breathe out in relief, somehow finding it comforting.
''Good morning, Mr. Belrose. How was your night?'' A tall, well-built man stands near a black Range Rover as he smiles at 'Mr. Belrose' while I wonder to myself . . . who the hell is this man in front of me?
''Good morning, Steve. My night was unusual,'' He replies as soon as Steve opens the car's door for him, revealing Brody in the middle to be playing with his phone while 'the-man-not-named-Derrick' moves aside, gesturing for me to step inside first. Both of the man continues to look at me, leaving in no situation to even make a choice as I step inside, sitting beside Brody who seems fully focused on the game he's currently playing.
Brody gazes up at me, ''So . . . what's your name?''
''Sophia,'' I reply, seeing 'the-man-not-named-Derrick' to be walking around the car to go to the other side, leaving me to awkwardly sit in this car.
''Nice to meet you, Sophia. I'm Brody,'' He gestures for me to shake his hand in which I return just seconds before his father enters the car, letting Brody to be sitting the middle of 'the-man-not-named-Derrick' and I, only to be greeted with silence as Steve drives down the road, only hearing sounds coming from Brody's game.
The whole ride to Brody's school was nothing but silent, with him being focused onto his phone while his father was busy writing something on his phone, leaving me to watch the busy streets of New York and now . . . with Brody already stepping off the car after saying his goodbyes, only leaving 'the-man-not-named-Derrick' and I at the backseat and Steve to be driving down the road, can't help pretending to not glance up from the rear-view mirror.
''Wait a minute!'' I exclaim, causing the car to stop immediately.
'The-man-not-named-Derrick' turns to look at me in surprise as I continue to speak, ''Where's my suitcase? Did I—did I leave it at that asshole's apartment?'' My eyes wide in despair, slowly cupping onto my face—somewhat only realising it now that I came to New York yesterday with my suitcase but to not even remember it existed until a few seconds ago.
''No . . . no, you didn't leave it at that guy's house.'' His eyes seem to wander anywhere but on mine, somehow trying to hide something. ''Can we just say that it got lost on the way to my apartment?'' He raises an eyebrow at me while my eyes widen in disbelief, only to blink a few times as the words process in my mind.
''How the fuck?'' I mutter under my breath, slowly clenching my fists as soon as I remember almost every important things are in that suitcase.
For instance, my purse . . . I know right, who the hell put their purses in their suitcases but I did and that was a huge bloody mistake. Not just that but there's like around three hundred dollars in my purse with my identification card which makes huge sense because without my identification card, I'm like a runner except without all the money.
--
We sit in the opposite direction from one another with both of his eyes wandering around the café to call out the waitress, leaving me to eye his every movement including how his suit fits perfectly onto his well-built body, how his hair looks lusciously thick but neat at the same time and how he rocks his own five o'clock shadow—showing maturity and masculinity.
''What would you like to order?'' He asks, looking at me.
''Whatever you're having,'' I immediately reply, not wanting to be caught staring at him even though he must be used to that up to the moment where it doesn't even seem to bother him anymore as he nods his head, smiling as soon as the waitress walks away with our order.
''Actually, Derrick . . . you don't really have to do this—''
He cuts me off, ''—what am I doing exactly? There's nothing wrong in treating you breakfast and besides, you need to be treated better after what that guy did to you.''
''Well, you're being awfully nice to someone you barely know. Let me guess, it's normal for you to treat other girls to breakfast because you find it as a gentleman gesture and I suppose the other girls seem to like it?'' I begin to speak my thoughts, causing him to lean back as he studies me. ''Truth be told, I don't even know why I'm sitting here in this café in your sweatshirt with you when I can go and cry because you've lost my suitcase.'' I add, hopelessly.
''You're saying that I lost your suitcase? You're blaming it on me?'' He leans forward, somehow showing interest.
''Obviously!'' I exclaim, both of my hands in the air which causes a few people to turn at our direction before muttering under their breaths. ''I mean, I was the damsel in distress and you were like the knight in shining armour—you don't just save the damsel, you save her damn suitcase because she might have important things in there.'' I lean back, sighing deeply.
''How is that my fault? You weren't even drunk to begin with and when you told me that you were a bad drinker, you ignored your own statement and you started drinking anywhere and you're just going to blame me, too for that? For waking up in my room, naked and assuming we slept together just because you couldn't remember much details from last night?'' He raises an eyebrow, speaking calmly but full of points to himself.
''How was I even supposed to react?'' I hiss.
''I don't know? Rationally?'' He rolls his eyes, sighing before leaning forward. ''Look, Sophia, I know you have your purse in your suitcase and I'm a little bit sorry for losing it even though it was not my fault and I'll try to make it easier for you . . . just tell me how much you need to get back on track, do you want to fly back to wherever you came from? Maybe . . . you want me to buy your flight ticket?'' He adds.
''Who do you think I am?!'' I unexpectedly explode, slamming both of my hands on the table as I stand up straight—causing both of his eyes to widen in surprise.
His lips are slightly parted with his eyes blinking in confusion, ''I was offering to help—''
This time, I cut him off. ''No, no, no, wait a second. Do you think I actually need your help? I was the damsel in distress last night but I'm not . . . I don't need your help today.'' I stutter at first before continuing to look at him who seems a little bit surprised and somehow slightly confused but both of his eyes remain focused into mine, leaving me to feel uncomfortable.
He clears his throat, ''Do you mind sitting down?'' The way those words left his mouth as if he feels guilty of saying it, I end up looking around to find everyone in the café to have their heads turned in our direction—watching me as I humiliated myself earlier.
I breathe out, taking a seat.
''You're getting the wrong idea—''
''—Derrick, it's simple as this. I don't need your help to get back to Tennessee because I'm not going back to where the hell I came from. Look, honestly, I don't have a Plan B—I came all the way from Tennessee to meet Michael and I didn't expect to get dumped. My plan was to safely land and surprise him . . . then, it was pretty obvious that I was going to stay with him but as you can see, things have changed.'' I mutter quietly, only loud enough for the two of us while others continue to do whatever they were doing before I caught their attention.
He licks his lower lip before replying, ''I just want to help.''
Our eyes meet, ''I can give you money for you to find a proper place to live while you find a job and you can start a life here in New York. You said so yourself that you don't want to go back to Tennessee and it's fine but just let me help you start over,'' He continues to speak.
''I don't want to owe you anything, okay? I don't want to owe anyone anything. I don't want to feel like I'm indebted to you,'' My eyes wander away from his, only to run my fingers through my hair before realising how my life is going on in the wrong direction—how it's awfully going to go sour, not as sweet as how it was.
''My intention is to help you and not make you feel like you're indebted to me,'' He replies, shaking his head. ''Please, don't get the wrong idea. You're a woman who has never been to New York before and it's dangerous to wander alone in these streets, you have to let me help you. You have to let me help you find a place to stay, an apartment to rent, perhaps?'' He raises an eyebrow.
''I don't have any money. I can't pay you back,''
''For fuck's sake, are you even listening to me? I don't need you to pay me back,'' He leans forward, showing his frustration by running his fingers through his hair. ''I just want to make sure that you'll be safe. Look, I'll give you the money for a couple of months until you get a proper job somewhere for you to be able to pay your own rent,'' He says.
As soon as he finds me keeping quiet without uttering a single word, he starts to let out a deep sigh under his breath before clenching his jaw.
''Fine. You feel like you'll be indebted to me just because I want to help you which makes no sense at all. So, how do you feel about living in my apartment? I have an empty guest room and you can just pay me as soon as you get a job. I'm not giving you a place but I'm renting you my guest room and I'll be receiving the payment as soon as you're employed,'' He looks at me.
I laugh, ''How is that any different? I'll be living under the same roof as you, it's like you're giving me shelter—''
He cuts me off, ''—not exactly. I'm renting you the guest room which means you'll have to pay for it. Since you want no help at all, let's just say you'll be working your ass off to pay the rent.'' He adds.
''You're being ridiculous.'' I reply while my head runs wild to think, knowing that either way, I need a place to stay and without any money . . . I'll be living in the streets with god knows who or what. It's either to get his help with money or take his offer to rent his guest room and pay him later when I get a job, letting me be in a state where I can pay him. Then, I can just easily get a cheap apartment to rent if I work my ass off in the next few months, not going to see him ever again and things will go back to normal.
''Well, don't blame me. Why won't you go back to Tennessee?'' He asks, both of his eyes pierced into mine.
I clear my throat, ''Personal reasons.''
''So, what's it going to be? Are you going to let me give you some money for you to start over or are you going to take that offer to rent my guest room and pay me back as soon as you get a job?'' He asks, with both of his hands on the table as they entwined, leaving me to think that the man in front of me is actually making a deal with me as if it's something he does in a daily basis.
Then again, how can I past the offer to live under the same roof with an insanely beautiful man?