? There you go again...? he murmured against my neck, his breath igniting every nerve in my body. ?Playing the innocent mouse, when really, you're a cunning little fox begging for release. ?
Sophie Cruz, a compassionate and skilled physical the...
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(Theme Song of the Chapter: Problem - Ariana Grande Ft. Iggy Azalea)
Sophie◆Cruz
MY FINGERS TREMBLED as I held my phone up to my ear and held my breath. Here we go. As the phone rang once, twice, and then a third time, I wondered if she would actually pick up. No, she wouldn't. She rarely ever did, and today would be no different.
I rolled my eyes as her voicemail began to play.
"This is Carmelita Cruz and I am not available at the moment. Please leave a voicemail and I will try to reach you back...."
Beep.
I sighed. "Hi Mom! It's your daughter trying to wish you a happy birthday. I hope wherever you are and whatever you are doing, you're having a great time." I paused, looking at the palm trees that decorated the clinic's parking lot.
"Anyways, I've been doing well..."
Not that she actually cared.
"Just give me a call back, okay?" I hung up the phone and released a long breath.
This was so predictable of her—to go absent without any warning or trace. I hadn't physically seen my mom in over a year, and the last time we talked on the phone she was in Cancun with her new boyfriend, who was a Z-list wannabe actor.
It's been like this since I was a little girl. Growing up, my mother was always leaving for months on end to date her foreign boyfriends, something you would see on 90 Day Fiancé.
I was practically raised by my grandparents. My mother was a teenager when she had me. She and my dad were high school sweethearts, but when he found out she was pregnant, he freaked out and left the picture. I didn't get in touch with my dad until I was five years old.
"Ms. Cruz," a wretched voice called to me as its owner left the clinic building. "Pretty women should always smile..."
I snapped my head toward the voice, not even attempting to hide my aggravation. If there was one thing I hated, it was a random old man ordering me on what to do with my body.
So patronizing.
"Bye, Earl..." I muttered before looking back at my phone.
But that didn't stop him, of course, because he began to walk toward me. I turned my head toward him warily before faking a smile, hoping he would go away.
"That's more like it..." he purred. "Now, how about that date we talked about?"
My mouth dropped as I looked around, unable to believe how shameless this married man was.
"Ah, yes," I feigned ignorance. "A date... with your wife."
His sly smirk faded, and he pressed his lips together. "No, that's—"
