Page 9 of Corrupted By You

“Busy, busy, and more busy. I almost expelled a kid for harassing a girl on the daily because he likes her. The coffee maker in the teacher’s lounge stopped working and now the faculty members are demanding a replacement ASAP. Not to mention, the tenth grade history teacher just quit on me. No notice. Nothing. And finally, the old water fountain in the courtyard shattered because two little dipshits from the lacrosse team decided to play-fight using their sticks as makeshift swords. In conclusion, my day has been horrendous.”

Ella whistled. “Shit, that reminds me of that time you, me, and Callie knocked over Sister Victoria’s statue.”

I laughed as she unlocked an old memory. “Damn, we had some wild days, eh?”

“Trust.” She chewed thoughtfully, then pinned me with a soft look. “Darla, I have to be honest with you. You look like absolute shit.”

I nodded, moaning as the chicken tikka hit my taste buds. I had a special place in my heart for Brazilian, Iranian, Italian, Mexican, and Pakistani cuisine. “I slept a total of four hours last night.”

Ella balked. “You’re kidding me.”

“No. My mom needed my help with an upcoming speech.” And I had to finish writing a chapter for my upcoming romance novel. “I haven’t been sleeping well for a while. I might need to see my doctor for pills or something.”

I may be an adult, but I was still getting the hang of balancing work, familial duties, and my health. It had deteriorated in the last few months if I was being honest. Sleepless nights became the new norm for me.

“I hate that for you,” she whispered, her face crumbling. “Family is important, yes, but so is your health. You need to put yourself first.”

“I know.” I sighed. “You’re not telling me something I haven’t repeated to myself countless times over and over again.”

“Do you want me to book the doctor’s appointment for you? I can even drive you.”

“That’s sweet of you, Ella.” I reached forward to squeeze her hand. “I promise I’ll call my doctor for an appointment tomorrow. Okay, mom?”

“Fine. But I mean it. You’re going, even if I have to drag you there myself.” Her face fell. “I worry about you, Darla.”

“And I love you for it. I promise I’ll text you when I get there.”

“Deal.”

We switched to less depressing topics and I asked about her day. She mentioned finishing all her work meetings and basically having the rest of the afternoon free. Which meant she’d drive over to her fiancé’s work so they could fuck in the fancy boardrooms. Did I mention my best friend was fucking kinky?

Ella was my definition of a girl boss. Driven by a creative and entrepreneurial spirit, she turned her love for knitting bralettes into a small online business in her late teens. It was still flourishing till this day. Moreover, after graduating university, she moved on to bigger things, like taking over her father’s marketing company. Now she was the CEO and sashayed into the building every day wearing six-inch stilettos, tight bodycon dresses, big sunglasses, and commandeered a room full of shareholders with remarkable skill and charisma, without ever losing her no-shit-taking attitude. Men cowered in her presence, but there was only one man who turned her tough persona into putty—Cade Killian Remington, also known as the man who finally put a ring on it.

Ella’s bachelorette party was tomorrow and we were going to Chaleur, an exclusive club in downtown Montardor.

“Everything is set for tomorrow, by the way,” I said. Ella let out an unladylike burp after devouring her meal and I scrunched my nose. “The party bus will pick us up at nine. We’ll go for pre-drinks at Danny’s Grill like old times and then make it to Chaleur for eleven. Sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect. Thank you for organizing this. You have no idea how excited I am.”

“Me too. It’ll be nice to have a girls’ night out before you’re officially Mrs. Cade Killian Remington.”

A dreamy look entered her brown and blue eyes. Ella had sectoral heterochromia, and it was one of the most beautiful gazes I had ever seen. “I can’t wait to marry him, Darla. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

I grinned wide. “I know and it’s going to be an epic wedding.”

We squealed mutually and burst into laughter before it slowly dwindled down.

Ella cast me a slow, intense look. I knew what was coming. “I want more for you, Darla. You never do anything that brings you joy. You keep time based on your next building maintenance, your next assembly, your next book, your next family dinner. Shit, you haven’t dated anyone in two years.”

“Ella,” I groaned.

I didn’t want to have this conversation. Or think about Owen, my cheating ex-boyfriend, who I hoped was dead and floating in the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

“Darla.” She sighed, grabbing a photo frame from my desk that housed a picture of us at senior prom right here at St. Victoria. “I am proud of everything you’ve accomplished. A successful secret author. A degree in education. A high school teacher and now the youngest Principal St. Victoria has ever seen. You’ve done it all and followed every single rule in your mother’s book. But you’re twenty-seven. Not sixty-seven. There has to be more to your day-to-day life than the haunted walls of St. Victoria. There has to be more to life than spending your days and nights hauled in this pristine office you call your second home.”

Despite every renovation put into place, St. Victoria continued to harbour a darkness that could not properly be conveyed into words. You had to enter and experience it for yourself. The gothic style building. The intricate molding archways. The crypt enclosing the graves of dead nuns. The marble statues and giant fountain decorating the courtyard. The vines covering the outside brick walls. The smell of roses hanging around the perimeters like a sweet cloud.

St. Victoria was a relic living and breathing in an era that was completely modern.