Alessia unlocked the door to her home, the weight of the day pressing down on her like a heavy blanket. She closed the door behind her, dropping her keys onto the console table, and leaned against the wall. Her head was spinning—her father’s health scare, Pamela’s sudden appearance, and, worst of all, Christian. The image of him with the nurse, Ava, haunted her. What’s going on with him? Why is he lying to me?
She shook her head, as if the motion could dislodge her thoughts, and walked toward the bathroom. I just need to relax. To forget.
The bathroom filled with steam as Alessia turned on the hot water, pouring her favorite lavender-scented bubble bath into the tub. She lit a candle and dimmed the lights, craving the comfort of silence. Once the tub was full, she slipped into the water, the heat wrapping around her like a cocoon. She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, leaning her head back against the edge.
“It’s just a dream,” she whispered to herself. “A bad nightmare. None of this is real.”
But it was real. The betrayal, the lies, the chaos—it was all too real. Her father lying unconscious in the hospital, Christian brushing off her call while embracing another woman, Pamela asking for forgiveness—all of it played over and over in her mind like a broken record.
Alessia sank deeper into the water, letting it soothe her tense muscles. She wanted to pretend none of it had happened, but the ache in her chest reminded her it was impossible to escape.
Just as she began to relax, the sharp buzz of her phone cut through the quiet. Alessia frowned, opening her eyes and reaching for the device on the stool beside the tub. The screen lit up with a message from Christian.
Her stomach tightened as she read it: “Don’t wait for me tonight, I have to work late. I love you.”
She stared at the words, her chest constricting. Work late? The memory of him at the hospital flashed in her mind—his soft smile, the flowers, the kiss on Ava’s forehead. Her grip on the phone tightened. Is that where he is right now? With her?
Her hand trembled as she reread the message, trying to decipher the truth behind his words. Does he even love me? she wondered bitterly. She set the phone down on the stool, her appetite for relaxation gone.
Alessia drained the tub and wrapped herself in a plush towel, her mind still racing. She paced the bathroom, unable to stop herself from obsessing over the day’s events. Why didn’t he answer my call? Why did he lie about being at the hospital? And who is Ava, really?
Her reflection in the mirror caught her eye, and she froze. Her normally composed face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed from the stress and worry. She barely recognized herself.
“This isn’t me,” she whispered, clutching the edge of the sink. “This isn’t my life.”
But it was her life, and she had to face it.