Mr. Clarke - COMPLETE

21✔️

N I N A

I've been hauled up in Vincent's extra room for the majority of the day. After taking two showers and changing into something more comfortable, I've just been laying on the bed staring up at my reflection.

It's almost eight at night and my stomach is growling at me because I haven't eaten since lunch. I keep checking my phone to see if my mother has called me about my whereabouts but alas, she hasn't.

I want to call her or drive by to my house and demand an explanation as to why she hates me so much. But I can't even look at her right now. So that's why I left. It's not like she'll even notice my absence.

I can't understand how a mother could hate their own child. How my own mother can love a man who left her after finding out that she was pregnant with me. That should've been her first and only red flag and yet, she admitted in the letters to leaving her only child for a man who's clearly forgotten about her.

After laying in bed for another thirty minutes, I finally decided to head downstairs to find something to eat. The moment I walk out the bedroom, a mouth watering aroma of chicken and Italian seasoning fills my nose and makes my stomach growl ten times louder.

Not wanting to wait a second, I skip down the stairs and head to the kitchen where I see a shirtless Vincent filling up two plates with pasta.

His back muscles flex with each movement and I notice it has a thing layer of sweat glistening his spine and shoulders. The dark gray joggers he's wearing are hanging low on his hips and I can also see a small part where his ass starts stained with sweat.

"I certainly hope you washed your hands before making dinner." I announce my presence and go to sit on the kitchen island across from him.

Vincent doesn't even flinch or show any sign that he was startled by my presence. He just slowly looks back at me before continuing filling the plates.

The food smells so good that I can practically taste it in my mouth. I have to bring a hand to my mouth to make sure I'm actually not drooling.

"And I certainly hope you've stopped your crying because that wasn't a sight I particularly cared to see." Was his response to me. Cold and uncaring while I was trying to lighten the mood.

Fuck this.

With his back still turn towards me, I hop off the counter and start making my way upstairs to grab my things.

"Where are you going?"

I stop before making it out the kitchen and turn to see him looking at me.

"To go grab my things and leave. It's clear you don't want me here so I'll just be on my way." I give him one of the fakest smiles I can conjure up before attempting to go back upstairs.

"Go sit down. Dinner is ready." His voice is filled with annoyance.

I look at him startled by his tone. How can he be so sweet one moment then a total jackass the next?

I look from him and to the food and my stomach is saying one thing but my mind is saying another. And I have too much pride to just stay here and be treated like I'm not welcomed.