[EDITING]
It's been four years since we broke up, since I last saw him.
I am no longer the person I used to be. I have gained a reputation as the most formidable businesswoman, feared by many, devoid of smiles, and often labeled as ruthless and arr...
You're familiar with my name, But you don't understand my thoughts and emotions. You see the surface, but not the depths of my being.
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As I awaken and my eyes flutter open, my initial observation is that the ceiling of my room is not adorned in pink, but rather a deep shade of black.
I turn my face to the side, catching sight of a bare back, and gradually my gaze moves towards the individual's face. A feeling of repulsion begins to settle deep within me. It's hard to fathom that I slept with someone again.
Someone who isn't her.
Quietly expressing my frustration, I drag my fingers across my face before hastily leaping out of bed and gathering my things. Once dressed, I hastily exit the apartment, eager to return home and rid myself of the unpleasant scent that clings to me.
With my hoodie pulled over my head, I hail a cab and provide the driver with my address. Throughout most of the journey, I keep my head lowered, gazing out of the cab window at the bustling streets of Los Angeles. Suddenly, I feel a vibration in my pocket, prompting me to retrieve my phone and answer the incoming call.
"What on earth am I supposed to do with you?" The voice on the other end exclaims in frustration.
I let out a chuckle and reply, "Good morning to you as well, Rix." Rix, my assistant, is one of those individuals I simply can't imagine my life without. I am fully aware that if he ever decides to resign, it would throw my career into disarray.
"You've grabbed the attention of the media once more!" he exclaims with a mixture of frustration and exasperation, attempting to regain his composure. "Young man, I understand the challenges, but consider the impact on your professional trajectory and, more importantly, think about your mother."
Through clenched teeth, I inquire, "Has she called again?"
"No, but you're fully aware of the consequences that unfolded the last time she became aware of your controversies," he responds solemnly.
Oh man, that hit hard.
A pang of discomfort shoots through me as I recall my mother's heart attack. It was during the time when my promiscuous behavior became known to her, and she didn't handle it well. Upon learning about her heart condition, I promptly flew back home and devoted myself to her care until she made a full recovery.
She even attempted to make me comprehend that engaging in promiscuous behavior would lead me down a destructive path, one that would irreparably ruin my life.
But obviously, it didn't work. When I returned back to LA, I immediately found myself in a bar looking for another night of meaningless sex.
But I don't understand, why I do this, when I know that it meaningless.
