Kaden Graham Harrison.
His world is home to billionaires, future presidents, models and children of diplomats.
People who had the power to rule the world before they were even born. He can buy himself everything with the snap of his fingers.
Booze...
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I am balling my fists so tightly around the rough leather cushion I am sitting on, my fingers must be leaving marks.
The blood circulation cuts off, from the pressure when with all my might I push my thighs down onto them. They turn white and there isn't even enough strength left to imagine how my hands must look under them. It brings me back to the 6th-grade sprint. I was so determined to win the race I accepted the burning of my lungs until my body broke down.
I accepted it until my face crashed into the dirt, my mouth filling with the blood I cough up. I didn't drink for 2 days before, and couldn't eat for 4 because the nerves were gutwrenching. My entire body was shaking till the point where my movements terrified me because how could I be alive, in this disastrously sick corpse? The same ache, a similar burn contaminates my chest as I look up and smile at Elizabeth.
The woman sitting directly in front of me, putting the food on our plates. And I am thanking, no I would like to express my most genuine gratitude towards Kaden for realizing the state I'm in and taking my food for me. He does it so casually, the woman doesn't realize how much I want to reach over the table and put my hands around her throat. And how much I would like to squeeze. My partner just smiles politely and encourages small talk to distract her from my internal misery. He flashes me an encouraging look and in this moment I wish I could hug him. And I wish I could be someone else. I wish I wouldn't be like my father, wanting to resort to violence. I hate that I want to hurt her. I love that I don't have proof for her hurting them but I also despise it. Because I am so sure and if... when this is happening I have to prove it. I have to save them, otherwise, I am like my mother, letting it happen. Letting me lie against the floor, the chipped stones from the ground pressing against my cheeks. Knowing I was down there, counting the hours with how many times my tummy growled. With how many times I could press my head so hard against the floor I couldn't make out the wall in front of me. I cannot be the person who knows.
Those thoughts are confusing you, right? You don't know what is going on in Aleandra Raven's little head, do you? Well, I can tell you what I am seeing.
I am seeing mashed potatoes and vegetarian sausages laid out in front of me because Kaden called without me knowing to ask Elizabeth if I could have something without meat and she made it. Without thinking twice she made something extra for me, which was entirely not necessary. He smiles at me kindly and I force my gaze away, a shame inside my stomach building up. But the worst thing is... the feeling is still there. My gut is still telling me that she is hurting them.
That those babies are in pain even though when I let my face glide over the table towards the two of them they seem perfectly fine. Even better, they seem happy and without a care in the world they empty their plates and after finishing they put it back into the kitchen, asking if we are already done. I even ask questions and Elizabeth answers them happily. She lays her arm around Valeria and the girl doesn't flinch. She leans against her and my mouth tilts upwards. She starts to be her mother figure, so how could I? How could I think that she was hurting them?
