I walked into the bathroom, trying not to trip over my own two feet, but my attention was quickly grabbed by the sheer size of the Jacuzzi. I was talking about a tub that could comfortably fit at least five people. The walls were decked out in fancy wallpaper with intricate designs and patterns. The floor was made of marble. There was a pair of sinks that were as big as my entire kitchen sink combined. 

The faucets were so high up that I had to balance on my tippy toes to reach them. And let me not even discuss the shower. It was like a freaking waterfall. I could have taken a shower and still had room to do a full-on dance routine, but the real kicker was the walk-in closet. Yeah, you heard that right. In the bathroom! I was not joking. It was even bigger than my actual bedroom. It was quite puzzling to me how Mr. Cross, a simple substitute, managed to afford a luxurious stay at the top-class hotel in the city. Well, at least it did not seem like he was dealing drugs. I hope I was not wrong. I love to get high and all that shit, but I sure as hell did not need all the drama that came with fucking a drug lord. Not that Mr. Cross and I were fucking, but you catch my drift, right?

My beautiful readers, although it may sound crude, I felt relieved that Mr. Cross did not join me in the shower. Don’t get me wrong, I had hoped he would, but in all honesty, I was incredibly thankful that he did not. I seriously could not believe how many things went down between me and Mr. Cross in less than twenty-four hours. It was overwhelming, and my mind was still reeling from it all. Your girl had to take a moment to calm herself down and gather her thoughts. So, instead of my usual boring shower routine, I decided to switch things up a bit. Why not get fancy and take a nice bubbly bath? I grabbed the bubble bath liquid and poured a generous amount into the water. I turned on the faucet. To my delight, the tub quickly transformed into a sparkling oasis of bubbles. The bubbles were big and fluffy. They smelt like lavender and vanilla—my favourite.

I submerged myself in the warm water and instantly felt rejuvenated and pampered. I let out a content sigh and leaned back and closed my eyes. Before I entered the bathroom, my gaze fell upon the clock in the living room, and I took note of the time. I was certain it was around midnight now. Needless to say, I was officially eighteen years old. In the beginning, I had the night all planned out. Drinking. Get high, and maybe even hook up with some random person. But now that it had finally arrived, I just wanted it to end immediately.

Throughout one single day, I managed to accomplish a multitude of tasks that I had not done in months. My body and mind were exhausted, as if they had been overworked and pushed to their limits. Despite this physical and mental fatigue though, the last thing I wanted to do was think. Thinking only brought me to the heartbreaking realisation that it would be my first birthday without my mother. This thought alone was enough to make me want to numb my senses with alcohol and weed. My mind was filled with a mix of nostalgia and sadness. I wanted to sleep. To not deal with any stress. I just wanted to check out for a while, or maybe forever.

I was sobbing as I asked, "Mother. Why did you have to pick that damn idiot?"

In the past, I had asked her about Chump. She responded with a hint of playfulness, saying, "Thalia." She went on to explain, "Love isn't something we actively choose. It's something that chooses us."

At that moment, I wondered what the hell she was sipping on and if her words held any truth: Why did Chump have to fall in love with my mother out of all the people? The absence of that piece of shit in our lives would have allowed us to thrive even more.

I was not sure how much time had passed when I slowly opened my eyes, and a wave of confusion washed over me. My mind was foggy, and I struggled to make sense of my surroundings. When my eyes adjusted to the bright room, I realised with a start that I was inside Mr. Cross's bedroom. The stark white walls and minimal furniture were a stark contrast to the cluttered chaos of my bedroom. I looked around and saw a woman sitting in a chair and Mr. Cross sitting on the bed, holding my hand in his. The sight of him up close scrambled my brain. Those vibrant green eyes and striking features should be considered sin. God truly took his own time moulding this perfection.

"Mr Cross?" I asked, my voice hoarse and weak.

At the sound of my voice, he quickly looked away from the woman sitting on the chair and met my eyes. He gave me a warm smile, but it looked strained.

"Yes, it's me. I am here.” He gently squeezed my hand. “How are you feeling?"

My mind raced with confusion. I did not understand why I was inside Mr. Cross's bedroom. His eyes, usually playful and mischievous, were now filled with worry. My thoughts were jumbled as I tried to piece together what led me to this moment.

"I... I am feeling quite confused," I mumbled, trying to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through my chest, and I winced, falling back onto the pillows.

"Easy there," Mr. Cross said, reaching out to adjust my pillows. "You have been through a lot."

“I don’t understand what you are saying. What happened? Was not I taking a bath?” I asked, my voice trembling.

"I think you might have had an accident," Mr. Cross explained, his tone serious. "Thankfully, you did not break anything."

"An accident inside your bathroom? I will bet you a hundred dollars that would not have happened in a cheap motel," I quipped with a hint of sarcasm.

“Thalia.” He sighed.

My gaze fell upon him. My expression reflected a sense of complete surprise. I had been confident all along! I just had a gut feeling that hearing Mr. Cross say my name in his sultry voice would leave me feeling like a million bucks. And not just that... my entire being reacted, eliciting a genuine moan of contentment. Mr. Cross chuckled and shook his head upon hearing it, while I flushed with embarrassment.

"I honestly never expected to hear you call my name," I told him.

“If I had known just how delightful it sounded leaving my mouth, I would have said it much sooner.”

My heart skipped a beat as his words reached my ears.

“It sounded even sexier than I had imagined. Hot and wet.” I winked at him suggestively.

Mr. Cross shakes his head while chuckling. "Are we still discussing your name? Or..." His intense gaze scanned my figure.

I felt my cheeks getting hot and red. It was like my body was betraying me and giving away all my emotions.

His breath escaped in a heavy sigh as his hand tenderly caressed my cheek. "You truly scared me,” he whispered.

"You mentioned there was an incident..." I paused and inhaled deeply. It all seemed so surreal.

Mr. Cross nodded. "I was in the middle of a business call, but I noticed you had gone into the bathroom. The call ended up lasting an hour, and it was not until then that I realised I hadn't seen you leave the bathroom. I went to check on you and found you nearly submerged in the water."

Slowly, fragments of memories began to resurface. The bathroom. The ache of longing for my mother. The darkness that consumed me at the thought of Chump. And then, nothing. Until now.

“I must have fallen asleep,” I said, not entirely sure.

Mr. Cross's expression softened. "Don't worry. It’s all right. I know it's been a tough few hours for you."

The penthouse was suddenly filled with the echoing sound of the doorbell ringing, causing Mr. Cross to release a frustrated sigh. It was clear that the interruption had irritated him, as shown by his tense body language. He shifted his gaze to the left, and I instinctively followed suit. It was then that I recalled there was another person present in the room with us. As soon as I laid eyes on the woman, my perplexity only increased. Throughout the entire conversation, she sat silent, while Mr. Cross and I engaged in what could only be described as flirtatious banter. 

Who exactly was she? Was she a love interest? Or maybe my rival? Oh no! Just based on her looks, I was already defeated.