Page 77 of Beautifully Broken

Walking into the conference room at work, I remember why Mondays are my least favorite day of the week.

Staff meetings.

I take my seat next to mom as we wait for everyone else to shuffle in. It doesn’t take long before the entire office joins us around the large table.

Mom sits up straighter. “Good morning.”

Echoes of “good morning” greet her from around the table.

“Thank you all for coming to our annual summer barbecue. It was a tremendous success, per usual. Now, let’s get down to what we have coming up.”

Mom goes around the table to each staff member confirming details or asking follow-up questions for events that are scheduled until she gets to me.

She turns in her chair to look at me. “Sophia, how about you? Are you ready for the sweet sixteen this upcoming Friday?”

I plaster on a smile. “Yes. Venue has confirmed the menus. We booked the limousine for the correct time, and the family is taking care of hair and make-up. Oh. And our very own Trevor Hill will photograph the party,” I say, feeling proud that I completed my to-do list for this event well ahead of time.

Mom lifts an eyebrow at me. “And what about the cake? Is that taken care of too?”

I tilt my head in confusion. “The venue is handling the cake. They have an in-house baker. It’s included on the menu. Which is all taken care of. Like I mentioned.”

She scoffs. “There’s no reason to sass me, Sophia. If you had included that initially, I wouldn’t have asked for clarification.” She purses her lips before continuing. Her tone dripping with condescension. “You must remember to tell the details. You really should know this by now.”

Did she really just chastise me in front of the entire staff?

I glance around the room and see that everyone is trying to avoid my gaze. Embarrassment creeps onto my face.

“Well, let’s—” I push back from the table and feel my mother’s eyes track me.

“Excuse me.” Walking briskly to the door, I exit the conference room and make a beeline for my office.

I make it to my office just in time for the tears to fall down my face.

She’s never spoken to me like that in front of the staff. Matter of fact, she’s never spoken to anyone like that. At least, not in a group setting.

I’m so embarrassed by my mom and—oh God—I just walked out of the conference room. She’s going to give me hell for that, too.

I can already hear her now. “That was completely unprofessional, Sophia.” She’ll go on about how it looks to everyone that her daughter walked out and how rude I am. Shit.

No part of me wants to have that conversation, but there isn’t a single way for me to avoid it either. Panic creeps in as I imagine the different ways mom will belittle me to the point of feeling worthless.

I rush to the bathroom, getting the lid of the toilet up just in time before sticking a finger down my throat until my scrambled eggs and bacon make their way back up.

At least this I can control.

When there isn’t anything left in me, I flush the toilet and move over to the vanity. Staring at my reflection, tears well in my eyes again and I wonder how I let it get this bad.

Trevor is right. I deserve better.

I need to take control of my life. I can’t keep spilling the contents of my stomach every time my mom bullies me. She says she only wants what’s best for me, but what she doesn’t see is how she goes about it is hurting me. The sad thing is, I don’t think she would care either way .

After brushing my teeth, I touch up my make-up as best I can to hide my puffy eyes. Deciding it’s the best it’s going to get, I take one final look in the mirror before opening the door. Immediately, I am frozen in place.

Trevor is standing in front of my desk, facing the bathroom door.

Fuck.

How long has he been here? Trevor has his eyebrows scrunched and I worry that he may have heard me throwing up.

“Are you okay?” he asks with concern lacing his voice.

I shake my head. “Not really.”

He takes a step towards me, but I hold up my hands to stop him.

I place my hand over my chest. “I appreciate you checking in on me, Trevor. But I think I need to be alone.”

“Are you sure?” he asks softly, leaning towards me.

I nod. “I’m sure. I’ll see you later?”

He knocks his knuckles on the desk as he turns to leave, but not before stopping to look at me one last time. I watch in silence as he searches my face for any hint that I might want him to stay. But when I don’t give him anything, he finally leaves.

Realization hits me that Trevor won’t be the only person checking in on me after that shit show in the conference room. And zero part of me has the energy to plaster on a fake smile and lie when I am far from okay.

With that in mind, I pick up my laptop, shovel it into my bag, grab my purse and decide to leave for the day.

As I pass by Trevor’s office, he steps into the hallway, stopping me in my tracks.

“Sophia. Wait,” he says, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

I turn around, facing Trevor. He looks so concerned for me, and it tugs at my heartstrings.

“Will you come into my office and talk to me?” he pleads.

Do I want to talk to Trevor? Yes. But do I really want to tell him what’s going on? No, not at all.

I make the split second decision and nod. Trevor stands in the doorway, leaving me room to walk in.

Here goes nothing.