I take a quick glance in the mirror, widening my eyes when I notice the dark circles surrounding my eyes.
Having green eyes is one of the things I hate the most of myself, especially when I have to use a whole tube of concealer every morning to hide the blemishes on my fair skin.
As soon as I start turning into a clown and put the tip of the peach lipstick on my lower lip, I jump when a scream comes from the living room:
"Is there something else besides vegetables in this fucking fridge?! "
My expression goes from amazed to satisfied: his frustration is music to my ears, even if it's my fault that there is no crap in my kitchen.
Even water makes me fat and I can't afford to eat high calorie foods, but if he doesn't like spinach he can get his ass off the couch and go shopping.
I leave the lipstick and hurry to cover the dark circles with the light foundation, then tilt my head and highlight a mole at the base of my neck with the tip of a brown pencil.
I finish my artwork with a mascara, then sneak my fingers through my hair and try to shape my curls with some scented foam.
I wrinkle my nose as soon as I notice that is nine o'clock , but I'll never be able to get downtown in less than twenty minutes, so I hurry to adjust the sleeves of my shirt and sprinkle some magnolia perfume on my skin, which was left out in the open for the neckline of the top, and then squeeze the briefcase in my fingers and leave my room:
"Are you ready?" - as soon as I leave the room I just raise my chin towards Meredith in greeting, and then turn to the children sitting next to my friend around the table:
"Aren't you going to have breakfast?" - she asks as she calmly chews a toast, even if her eyes end up several times on Ethan, who decides to sit right next to her, forcing me to fight with all my heart not to deign him a look, even though I feel his eyes on me.
When I understand that he begins to x-rays all over my body the blood boils in my veins and I start to threaten him to stop, but I realize it was just my impression when I look at his figure and notice that he is staring at Meredith and not myself.
"I'm not hungry." - I mumble to myself, looking away and starting to feel too much in this house, even if a strange sensation in my chest forces me to plant my feet on the ground and not move from there, as if I didn't wante to leave them alone in this house.
I shake my head when I realize that neither of them is paying attention to my presence anymore: Meredith has her head lowered to her plate, although out of the corner of her eye she is studying Ethan's every single movement, while he is about to start a conversation with her.
I grab Mary's hand and start following Tommy when I notice that the kids have already stopped eating breakfast, but I don't leave the living room before taking one last look at Ethan and Meredith just as he reaches out a hand directed to my friend's cheek, pinching it between the index and middle fingers.
A squeeze in my stomach makes me grimace in disappointment, then I wrinkle my nose when I realize that I am really staring at them from the doorway.
I raise my chin proudly and hurry to close the door behind me, and then walk towards the car with a soft step, but not before having cast a quick glance at Tommy, who is glaring at me with a serious expression.
"Tell me." - I try a smile when we all find ourselves in the car, but his face does not soften, on the contrary, he crosses his arms over his chest and takes a deep breath, and then crosses his legs on the seat as if he were not just a kid .
"I don't like that guy." - he admits annoyed, as if he had told me something new.
"Neither do I." - I indulge him before he can even finish.
Last night I had the impression that I was dealing with a man I don't know at all and whom I accepted as a roommate only because I don't want to lose my villa, even if Ian has shown me that he is a serious man, especially by returning home before Ethan.
I adjust my back against the seat, spreading a smile as the sun begins to illuminate my skin, giving me a wonderful feeling.
I love summer.
I also love her on days when I sweat to death or when my hair is no longer manageable due to being too hot, so much that in my office the windows are always open to let in as much light as possible.
"Se you, guys." - I hurry to ruffle Mary's hair, who gives me one of her shy smiles, while Tommy throws me a kiss in the air, running away from the car as soon as his mother looks at the door.
I honk my horn to get her attention, at which she too raises an arm in the air, and then hurries to scold the two:
«I hope for you that you have finished your homework.» - she raises her index finger in their direction, making me shake my head amused, but I decide not to waste any more time and restart the car.
I would like to be in the place of that woman, even at the cost of having no money and living isolated from the rest of the world, abandoned by a husband.
Everything! To have a child ...
I try to hold back the tears I haven't been pouring for years now, but my expression goes from thoughtful to annoyed when I hear the phone ringing inside my bag.
I wonder who might be bothering me at this hour, but I'm afraid I already know the answer, even before I grab the phone in my fingers:
"What do you want?" - sour spit, remembering the last time we met:
"I'm your father, don't answer me like that!" - his authoritative voice forces me to roll my eyes, but I let him speak, refraining from closing the phone in his face.
«Have you already chosen the roommates?» - he asks in a stern tone, making me snort loudly.
He and his goddamn obsession with controlling me!
"Not yet." - I hasten to lie to him, running my hand through my long curls, but he replies instantly, as if expecting my words:
"The announcement has been removed." - he notes in a higher tone, but I can't help myself and raise my voice higher than his:
"Because I don't want to share the villa anymore!" - I yell at the phone screen, attracting the attention of some passers-by when I get out of the car, clutching the bag in my fingers.
"What are you doing?" - continues to investigate regardless of my stern tone.
"Pope!"
He interrupts me again, insisting while knowing that I will never tell him anything about my private life:
"You're getting back with him, aren't you?" - I widen my eyes at his question and I hasten to close the call as soon as my hands start shaking.
Sometimes I wonder if that man thinks before he speaks! He knows it is still too painful for me and I find it hard to even remember his face, as he blames me for being a naïve little girl who should never have trusted a man like the one I was about to marry.
This is perhaps the first day of summer this year, but my father has already thought about ruining the few moments of joy that I can afford in the last few months.
The heat has a strange effect on me, as if it makes me happier and less aggressive than usual. And my colleagues know this too, so much that in July they come into my office more often than usual, but I'm too serene to throw them out and continue working, also because, obviously, the desire to work is zero.
I hate my job, except when it seems to me to be really useful to those who needed it, but it gives me so much satisfaction that I have never found the courage to give up.
After all, it is the only goal that I managed to reach without my father's intervention, and it is perhaps for this reason that I have never been praised by him.
I lost my adolescence closed within four walls and studying law, even knowing at that age that this world is so disgusting that there is no room for honest people, even if knowing Meredith I changed my mind and I realized that if there are assholes there are also victims.
As soon as my thoughts go to my friend, I don't know why I start wondering what she is doing right now, in my mansion ... alone with Ethan.
I bite the inside of my cheek, knowing that Meredith is not that kind of woman, but I didn't like the way she looked at that jerk this morning and I almost feel like calling her to make sure she hasn't already let herself be dragged into Ethan's room. .
I shudder at the very thought and try to drive out of my head the image that presents itself to my eyes.
After all, they can do what they want and I won't be stopping them from spending time together.
I try to smile at the judge who knows me well by now, as we have been attending the same trials for more than a year, but I don't stop to chat and continue to walk proudly through the now familiar corridor.
The ticking of my red wedges mixes with that of the other passersby, each too concentrated, probably thinking about how to save their client's ass, while I like to think about what they are thinking or what kind of criminal they must defend.
I can often guess, but it's easy. It depends on how lost or worried their gaze is.
If there is a minimum of light-heartedness on their face it means that the client on duty has not made a big deal, probably it is just someone who is asking for a divorce or wants to have the children in foster care.
If the lawyers passing in front of me have a wrinkled forehead and a crooked tie, it means that the crime is worse, perhaps an accusation from the neighbor or of pedophilia, or maybe the client has been sued for assaulting a woman.
As I sink into my thoughts, I forget about the delay and let my client wait in my office.
Thinking about it, I don't even know who I will be dealing with in the next few days and who I will have to defend, even though I have a certain reputation in New York that I always find myself having to defend those who are in worse shape, but only when I trust their innocence.
All I have to do is ask them a question to understand if they are guilty or not.
I take a deep breath, placing my hand on the door handle of my shelter, ready to enter my office.
I am not one of those who cross the corridors concerned with defending their customers. In fact, successful lawyers are those who do not make themselves understood, those who always have their chins raised and their eyes empty.
They are the ones who have seen too much, and not just because of the criminals they have to endure or the hatred between men they have to witness every day, but because there is something darker that troubles them.
Their past.
Someone from their past ...
«Good morning, Valerie.» - as soon as I open the door the smile dies on my lips, while my breath stops.
Every single muscle in my body stiffens and I stop in place, not daring to raise my eyes from the floor of the room.
I would recognize his voice among a thousand.
His cursed voice!
The one that comforted and deluded me for years, and then left me alone in the darkest period of my life.
The same one who whispered sweet words into my hair and calmed me whenever I had enough of my life.
He is here in my office now. He is my client, but I don't need to ask him any questions to figure out if he's guilty or innocent of whatever he's done. I already know the answer.
"Jack." - a strangled whisper comes out of my mouth, while my eyes cloud with a mixture of anger and disappointment, so much that I can't find the courage to look him in the eye, but I can imagine a fake innocent smile on his lips ...
💕💕💕Hope you like this guys❤️