Sugar. Why not?

Crack That Code

Sofia's POV

"Anything Darling?" I hear Patrick asking, referring to the reason I actually checked my emails.

Do I tell him? I don't think I can. Although I'm not sure why. My first instinct is to lie and to hide my utter sadness at being homeless soon behind the fact that I've no job interviews.

"No nothing yet" I sigh and shove my phone back in my pocket as if to punish it.

"It'll happen I promise you" he croons encouragingly, his lips pressing into my hair. Fuck! I don't wanna lie to him.

There's a simple option to fix my problem really. Use Patrick's money to rent a new apartment. Easy! Except when I think about doing that my stomach twists into knots because I feel like that would make me the same as the rest of the women.

I know I did this whole sugar thing because I needed help. I needed money to live and to eat. Although at this point I think I'd rather starve than use money I didn't earn. I don't wanna be like them. I don't wanna use him for my own personal gain.

The worst part is I know he'd tell me to use the money. He'd want me to. Have I brainwashed him? Is that what's really happening? Or would he have given any women the same amount of money if they'd stuck around.

I already know the answer to that. No he wouldn't have. He wouldn't have trusted them enough. Yet here I am, gifted with his delicate trust.

He doesn't seem to notice that anything is amiss so I stay quiet and snuggle into him to try and forget about my impending issue just for a little while.

That's the same attitude I apply the next day as we pack, head to the airport and fly home. I try to act as normal as possible, plastering a smile onto my face whenever Patrick gives me a strange look. Of course he knows there's something wrong now. I'm like an open book to him.

He doesn't ask me if I'm okay. It's as if he knows that I don't want him to but he never stops glancing at me. Especially as he drives me home after I declined to stay with him. I told him I was really tired and feeling unwell after the flight which really wasn't much of an excuse. If those things were true I'd want to stay with him. Nevertheless he goes along with my lie with a concerned frown and kisses me goodbye.

As I'm closing the door of his car he calls after me.

"Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?"

There's an underlying tone in his voice as if he's asking something else. Of course he wants to know if he can help me...with anything. Right now I hate how perceptive he is.

"I'm okay, I promise you" I say softly, turning back to face him with a reassuring smile stuck to my face. He doesn't buy it for a second but he nods anyway.

"I'll call you tomorrow morning?" He says but it's not a statement, it's a question.

"Yes of course. Thanks for the amazing holiday. I'll see you soon" is the last thing I can say before I turn away and my face crumbles. I know I must seem flakey. I told him I loved him yesterday and now it seems like I don't want to be around him. In actual fact I just don't know how to deal with this new development and I'm too proud to ask for anymore help.

I hear his Mercedes tyres screeching as I enter my apartment building. It's the only thing that gives away his frustration at my silence.

Shaking away some of my sadness, I enter my apartment as if everything is normal. I make the mistake of glancing around and taking in all of the things I could loose. No apartment means I don't need any furniture and I probably won't have anywhere to put any or my personal belongings.