Conditional Love

Chapter 2

Next chapter for your enjoyment. Thank you for all your support and for giving this a try.

***

**|Sang's POV|**

That sense of sated bliss never does last long. I guess that's how I find myself, half an hour later, getting up from a bed not my own and searching out my clothes the bartender stripped from me not too long ago.

"Not staying?"

"It's nothing personal," I answer, clipping the clasps of my bra together.

"I have to get back to work anyway."

I look over my shoulder and watch as he gets up from the bed, lean muscles rippling with his movements. I turn away as he reaches for his jeans and I quickly put on the rest of my clothes.

Once we're both dressed, he leads me back downstairs to the bar. Another bartender smirks at us but I ignore him as I reach for my wallet and pull out some cash. Setting it on the bar, I look up and meet the eyes of the guy that filled that void for just a little while.

"For my drinks and food," I tell him, just so he knows I'm not paying him for what happened upstairs.

Without another word, I turn around and exit the bar, giving my head a jerky nod to the bouncers who escorted the man with the beady eyes from the bar. Making sure the street is clear, I rush across and straight to my apartment building.

Inside, I go straight to bathroom, needing to wash the night away and all of a sudden, I feel exhausted. When I'm in a set of my favorite pyjamas after my shower, I climb into bed and stare at the ceiling.

You'll always be a whore.

The only thing you'll ever do in your life is open your legs.

I shake off the voice that belongs to my mother and her words that seem to get truer and truer as the days go by.

"Everything's alright, you're alright," I whisper into the dark room.

Rolling onto my side, I close my eyes and hope that sleep comes easy.

~*~

The next morning is much the same as the day before. I wake up just seconds before my alarm goes off and a minute later I find myself in the bathroom trying to make myself look presentable for the day. The only thing that does feel different but familiar is the excitement coursing through my body.

Today's Friday.

That means I'm going out tonight. All on my own. Some may think that's not exciting, but to me, it is. It's the one time each week I dress up in little dresses, curl my dirty blond hair, and wear more than concealer for make up. I have very little alcohol to drink and dance to music that make my ears hurt.

Once I've done my normal routine of brushing my teeth, washing my face, and applying concealer to hide the dark rings around my eyes, I dress in some black pants and a light pink blouse. My feet go into ballet flats and my hair is twisted up and secured with a clip.

I call this Sang boring Sang.

The trip to work is the same and soon I'm sitting at my desk sorting through emails, filing paperwork, and doing everything else on the endless list of things to do.

"Sang, would you like a coffee, love?" Arlene asks, making her way towards the glass doors that lead to the elevator, bathrooms and kitchen.

I force myself not to cringe. "Yes please, Arlene." I hate coffee; it's bitter and horrible on my tongue, but I drink it anyways. The caffeine gives me a small boost of energy most days. When I drink it that is.