Page 26

I'm fine.

Grace doesn't remember, or just doesn't want to.

Maybe she's ashamed of herself.

Maybe she's ashamed of me.

I'm fine.

If she doesn't remember, it means she doesn't feel anything. And if she doesn't feel anything, it means she doesn't care.

But I care—I care way too fucking much.

I locked myself in my room. I didn't do a thing, just drained myself in an attempt to feel nothing.

But it didn't really help.

The outcome was the opposite.

Now I felt so drained that even breathing felt like too much. My chest was heavy, my mind was a wreck, and the harder I tried to shut everything out, the louder it all got.

I just wanted to feel something—anything—other than this.

It's like I'm running on empty.

The darkness came fast, which meant I'd spend a sleepless night torturing myself, wondering why she doesn't remember.

I suddenly thought about hitting that popular pub in the city—alone. I'm not even considering calling Lily, my bestie—I'm going solo.

I put 'In The End' by Linkin on repeat as I started getting ready.

I wore a tight black dress with tiny straps, black Louboutins, and all the luxury jewelry I could put on. Everything sparkling and ridiculously expensive.

I didn't even think twice—I was exaggerating.

That's how I am.

I've darkened my eyelids with intense eyeshadow, defined my eyebrows, and added deep matte red lipstick to contrast with my tan skin. My long hair is sleek as glass.

And last but not least—I sprayed myself with a good amount of my usual perfume by Dior.

It smells like warm vanilla. My goddamn favorite.

Thankfully, Grace wasn't there when I headed downstairs, but Nelly blocked me before I could storm outside.

"Young lady, where are you going?" she asked, her gaze filled with concern, as if she had just seen a ghost.

"Out."

"Maybe you should tell your father first..." she suggested.

I turned to face her, scoffing. "I'm 21, Nelly, and he doesn't care anyway."

"You know he cares about you, Maya," Nelly insisted. "He just finds it hard to show it..."

I exhaled sharply. "I'm tired of that. I'm fucking tired of people caring for me but not showing it."

Nelly shook her head softly. "Take a deep breath, Maya. Something's been different about you lately... Do you want to talk about it with me? Remember when we used to talk?"

In that moment, something inside me just snapped, without me being able to control it.

"Stop acting like you're my mother, Nelly. I had one, and no one can replace her," my voice came out harsh and cold.

The second I said it, I regretted it.

I didn't mean at all what I had just said. It was the emptiness in my chest speaking for me.

I just felt drained—like there was nothing left to give.

Nelly looked at me, her eyes glistening. My chest tightened. I was hurting the woman who had cared for me since I was a child... this can't be happening.

I'm a fucking monster.

"Nelly..." I whispered, holding her hands but she lowered her gaze, pretending my words didn't bother her at all.

"I'm truly, I'm really sor—"

"THIS IS ENOUGH, MAYA!" My father interrupted my apologies staring angrily at me from upstairs.

Anyone but him. Fuck, no.

He shouted so loudly that Grace's room door flew open, and she walked out, shortly followed by her mother.

All eyes were on me from upstairs—but I didn't care.

Not until I saw that Grace was frightened—likely because of me. And whatever had already snapped inside me cracked even more.

"Apologize to Nelly immediately!" my father demanded, heading downstairs.

"I was about to, until you interrupted me," I made it clear. I turned my face toward her, guilt flooding me, my expression pleading for understanding. "I didn't mean it, Nelly. Please, forgive me for that."

She nodded immediately in my direction, and I could tell she understood me.

"Your behavior is completely out of control, Maya," my father stepped in again. "Even more than usual. I'm very disappointed in you."

His words settled in me, and I pretended they didn't affect me—but they did.

"I guess you're more disappointed in me than usual, huh?" I provoked him.

"Yes, I am," he said without hesitation.

My jaw clenched.

A knot formed in my throat.

"Just like I thought," I scoffed.

He stood right in front of me, fully confronting me now. "Tell me, Maya, what is your purpose in life, apart from being privileged, self-centered, and reckless?" he demanded.

A knife twisted in my stomach.

There are a lot of things my father doesn't know about me.

That I'm working for the Community Center—that I care for these people.

That I'm still grieving my Mom's passing after all these years.

That I care about Nelly like a second mom.

That lately, I've probably been caring more about Grace than about myself.

He has no idea, and it feels like he doesn't even notice the effort I put in.

"That's not fair," Grace spoke out loud.

I was stunned. I slowly lifted my eyes to her, and she looked at me like she was about to cry.

Before I knew it, she quickly headed downstairs and walked toward me.

"Maya isn't any of those things," she said firmly.

I was still frozen when she stopped right in front of me, her gaze intense but soft. My chest felt warm all of a sudden.

"I know when someone's selfish, and you're definitely not, Maya. You're just trying to figure things out, like we all are..." Grace smiled at me, and I swear my heart skipped a beat.

For the first time, I felt like I wasn't alone—like someone finally saw me for who I really am.

"Grace is right," Nelly agreed.

Just when I was starting to feel a little better, my father interrupted the moment, his expression a little less stern—as if trying, but failing, to soften.

"I'm just trying to tell you that you have to act like an actual adult, now, Maya."

Adult? Sometimes I feel like I'm the fucking man of this house.

But he doesn't even acknowledge how hard I try.

Sometimes all I wanted to hear was a simple: 'Good job, Maya.'

But it never comes.

So I keep everything inside me, and even though I try, it all falls apart.

"Why don't you try to be an adult as well, huh? Maybe start by becoming a father!" I snapped.

My words hung in the air, and for a moment, I saw something crack in my father's eyes. He stood there, lost, just like me.

Remorse flooded through me, as my lips parted slowly to apologize, but he cut me off.

"I don't even know who you are anymore, Maya," he muttered, the words hitting me harder than I expected.

Everything in me wanted to scream, but I just stood still, as if none of this was affecting me in the slightest.

Grace stepped closer to me, her hand reaching for my arm, brushing my skin—but I pulled away quickly, my emotions too tangled. I couldn't let her see me like this.

I turned on my heels and walked away, slamming the door behind me.

I stormed to my car, my heart pounding in my chest, no matter how hard I tried to shut it all down.

Just as I was about to swing the car door, I felt someone's fingers graze my skin.

That slightest contact made me shiver—I spun around and saw Grace right behind me.

"Maya," she whispered, now softly grabbing my arm.

"Grace," I shook my head, my eyes unconsciously drawn to her touch. "You don't want to see me lose my mind," I said, barely holding it together.

"I'm really sorry about what happened..." she kept holding my arm.

It felt like her touch was both soothing and overwhelming at the same time.

"Don't be. That's routine," I shrugged it off. "I have to go now."

"Stay here, don't go," she pleaded.

My hand still reached for the car door as she tightened her grip on my arm. "I can't stay."

"Why?"

"If I stay, I'll only make things worse," I felt my eyes sting, but I wasn't going to cry.

"Don't say that," Grace retorted, stepping closer. "You don't have to carry it all alone anymore, Maya."

God, I wanted to believe her—but I've carried it for so long it's basically part of me now. If I let it go, what's even left?

"Just leave it, Grace. Can't you see that's better for everyone?" My voice cold and final.

"No, Maya, that's not true!" Her eyes stared intensely at me.

I paused at the sudden shift in her emotions. Her voice—it was raw, full of feelings.

"Why?" I asked, hopeful.

"Because, I—I..." Grace sighed deeply, her words faltering, her eyes looking away as if she couldn't find the right words.

Why wouldn't she just say 'I remember'?

But she didn't.

"Let me go," my voice half commanding, half pleading as I glared at her hand on my arm.

Her eyes flickered with hesitation, but she released me slowly, like she was still hoping I'd change my mind.

But my mind was breaking, and I couldn't handle anything more.

I slid into my car, turning the engine with urgency. My hands gripped the wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. I drove off like I was running from something I couldn't face.

But I'm fine. I swear.