Scream For me

My mouth falls open. Now my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I’ve never been reprimanded at my job, never so much as a single infraction, and now I’m being accused of prostitution?

“What?” I practically shout the word. “I wasn’t paid for sexual favors, Mr. Fein. I was paid because I babysat his daughter one night, and then I- well, I went on a trip with him and his family to the Bahamas where I also helped with taking care of his daughter.”

“I figured you would deny it and I didn’t want to have to do this but…” He taps on his computer, then slowly turns the screen around where there’s a very clear color image of me and Weston kissing on his yacht in a tabloid.

“Oh, my God.” My hand darts to cover my mouth. I never saw any photos or headlines about us together, then again, I didn’t go looking for them.

“As you can see, I’m having a hard time not believing what I’ve been told. So you admit, you did receive payment from Mr. Vaughn while being engaged in a sexual relationship with him?”

“Yes, sir, you’re correct.” I don’t bother trying to explain again that it wasn’t for the sexual acts because there’s nothing I can do to prove it.

“Oh, Miss Flowers.” He hangs his head in disappointment, folding his hands and placing them on his desk. “I can’t tell you how sad I am that this is true. I never expected this from you.”

“I understand, sir, and honestly, I never expected it from me either. I know that does nothing to help the situation now, but I’m truly sorry.” My shoulders drop and I feel tears prick my eyes.

“While I do believe that, unfortunately we can’t let this kind of behavior go unpunished so as of right now, you are on administrative leave without pay until we fully decide how to handle this.”

“I understand.” I barely get the words out. I feel like I’m seconds away from throwing up. I stand up, exiting his office as I feel the color drain from my face. I grab a box from the supply room, filled with my things, and head out, careful to avoid running into my coworkers.

I almost miss my stop on the train I’m so lost in thought. I feel numb as I exit the elevator and walk to my apartment door.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

“Hey, Daphne.” I look to my left to see my neighbor Steve waving at me.

“Hey, Steve,” I mutter as I put my key in the lock.

“You okay? You want to come over and hang out?”

“Not tonight, Steve. I had a rough day.”

“Oh, okay.” He steps toward me as I open my door. “Well, I’m here if you want to talk or-”

“Thanks, Steve,” I say, cutting him off before closing my door. I toss the box of my things onto my kitchen counter and drag myself to my couch.

In t wThisek, I’ve managed to lose the man I love and my dream job, all because of my actions. I feel hopeless and sorry for myself. I curl up and close my eyes as the tears come. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t stay in this apartment without a job.

My phone rings, Xana’s name on the screen, but I don’t pick up. I know if she asks how I’m doing, there’s no way I’ll be able to pretend that I’m okay. She’ll see right through me, and then I’ll have to explain to her why I ran away from Weston and how I didn’t even fight to keep my job. I know that if I went to him and told him what happened, told him that I’m positive it was Natalie who went to Mr. Fein, he’d raise hell to fix it all for me, but I can’t do that. I can’t face him right now, not after what I said to him, not after how I left him. I close my eyes, eventually crying myself to sleep.

When I wake it’s just after midnight. I pick up my phone, noticing I have two voicemails. I stretch, getting up to take a shower, trying to figure out what I’m going to do. I feel too mentally exhausted to come up with a long-term plan. I turn on the water, hoping the hot water will at least help me relax enough that I can figure out what to do in the short term.

I slide my phone screen open, hitting the voicemail button. The first one is from Xana, just asking if I want to go to look at the winery this weekend with her since Ryan has to be out of town. The next is from my dad.

“Hey, Daphy Duck,” he says in the same way he’s said my nickname since I can remember. “It’s Dad. Just wanted to talk to you. It feels like this is the longest we’ve ever gone without talking. I, uh, I just miss you, kiddo.” I hear the tone of his voice change, cracking with emotion. “Call me when you get the chance. I love you very much.”

I put the phone down, my heart clenching even tighter now. I step into the shower, the steam billowing around me as the warm water cascades down my back. And then it hits me all at once like a ton of bricks. This is what I do when I’m scared or hurt… I run. I ran away from my dad when I was hurt that he moved on from my mom. I ran away from Weston when he opened up to me and poured his heart out because I couldn’t face the fact that I had moved on from Carson and was in love with somebody new. And now I’m running away from fighting for my job because I’ve convinced myself that if I don’t have anything in my life worth losing, I’ll be protected from pain and hurt.

I finish my shower and grab my phone, pulling up flights to Florida tomorrow. I find one that leaves five-thirtyrtya. m. I book it, then pack my things. I toss and turn for a few hours before finally giving up and heading to the airport early. I have no idea what I’m going to say when I get there, but I just know that I need to make things right with my dad. I need to start by forgiving him and stop holding on to my hurt and anger. I told Xana I wanted to move on from my past, but the truth was, I was still holding on to it. But now, it’s time to fully let go.

When I land in Florida, I give the cab driver my dad’s address. I knock on his front door, holding my breath. I didn’t tell him I was coming. A few seconds later, the door opens and his face appears. His eyes grow large as a huge smile spreads across his face.

“Hi, Dad.”