Page 46 of I'm sorry, Princess
That’s my mantra now. That’s how I survive the rest of the week.
I check my phone. No texts from Sienna. Probably working. And honestly, I don’t even know what I’d tell her if she did message me. Hey, guess what? I begged a convicted criminal to fuck me in a government building. How’s Japan?
No. I’m not ready to share that meltdown yet.
I drop Lorenzo’s file at the front desk, ignoring the subtle glances I get from the reception staff. I don’t care.Let them talk. Let them assume. I need caffeine or something stronger. But for now, my favorite coffee shop will do.
It’s a 10-minute drive, just long enough to replay the entire degrading interaction in my mind on a loop. Great. Free humiliation with every mile.
When I pull up, I spot a familiar car in the parking lot. My mother’s. I think nothing of it, until I walk in and see her sitting at a table with a man who cannot be older than twenty-five. Sharp jawline, fitted dress shirt, smug expression.
What the actual hell?
I make a beeline to the table. “Do I even want to know?” My voice is flat. Sharp.
My mother flinches, her eyes wide like I caught her with her hand in the cookie jar, or someone else’s pants. The guy doesn’t even flinch. He just smirks. And checks me out.
Oh hell no.
“Serena, honey,” she says too sweetly, standing to give me a kiss on the cheek like we’re in some Hallmark film. “What are you doing here?”
“Buying coffee?” I gesture around the café. “What are you doing here? And with him?”
She laughs, nervously. “Oh, don’t be silly. Kyle is just an acquaintance.”
“Acquaintance?” I arch a brow.
The guy stands, offers me his hand like we’re on a job interview. “Kyle. Nice to meet you.”
He’s good looking, I’ll give her that. But my mother’s married, and I don’t care how dead the marriage is, this isn’t brunch, it’s betrayal.
“Are you sleeping with my mother?” I ask him point-blank, and she visibly pales. “She’s married, you know.”
Kyle just grins like the cocky son of a bitch he is. “I know.”
“Serena!” my mother gasps, looking around in embarrassment. “You’re being ridiculous!”
“No,” I reply coolly. “You are.”
And just like that, my appetite for coffee, and everything else, is gone.
“Pleasure meeting you,” I say, flatly, and I walk right out.
I sit in my car, gripping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing holding me together. It’s not just Lorenzo and this morning’s mess. It’s not just seeing my mother getting eye-fucked by a guy who could be her son.
It’s the fact that when Sienna’s not around, I feel... alone. Not the peaceful kind of alone. The kind that makes your chest hollow and your throat tight. I don’t have a crowd of people or a group chat to rant in. I have her. Just her.
And when she’s gone, everything feels louder. Sharper. Emptier.
My phone buzzes, and I jolt, praying it’s her.
Hottest Bestfriend:I’m back early!
God bless this woman.
ME:Why?? I’m so excited to see you xx
Hottest Bestfriend:Photoshoot’s wrapped. I visited Japan. It was beautiful. But I missed home. And you.
