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Trust Me: A Bad Boy MC Romance by Cristal Pierre (34)

 

***

My heavy sigh, the third for the morning, was the only sound that broke the silence in the dorm room.

 

I scrolled to the next picture, trying to fight back the tears prickling my eyes.

 

Mum looked happy. These pictures, from her latest weekend trip with ‘the girls’ looked like she had fun. I was happy for her.

 

In contrast, I felt empty, a stubborn knot in my stomach keeping me on the brink of puking most of the time.

 

“Maybe I should call her. Tell her everything,” I said to myself, my finger hovering over the dial button. Something was stopping me; why couldn’t I just call Mum?

 

Her unexpected call startled me. I almost dropped the phone. Maybe it was a sign.

 

“Hi, Mum.”

 

“Hey, honey. How are you?”

 

“I’m…”

 

“Honey, is everything alright? You didn’t come home this weekend.”

 

I opened my mouth to speak, a bit of courage surfacing from within me, when I heard someone cheering at the other end. It sounded like one of Mum’s friends had won the card game.

 

“You’re at Mary’s?” I asked, swallowing my courage.

 

“Yes, baby. What is wrong? I can be on the campus in a couple of hours.”

 

There was a general disapproving sound amongst her friends that made me realize that, no matter how much I needed my mother, she needed a break more.

 

She had spent a lot of years being there for me, supporting my every wish and protecting me from unpleasant things. She was finally free of this duty and I could take care of myself.

 

I cleared my throat, making sure my voice didn't flutter as I spoke.

 

“No, Mum. I’m just a little bit tired. You go on and win everything over there, OK?”

 

“Are you sure, baby?”

 

“That I want you to take every penny off your friends? Absolutely!”

 

She chuckled. “OK, baby. Get some rest, you don't sound too well. Maybe you should see someone.”

 

“I’m fine, Mum. Nothing a nap wouldn’t solve.”

 

She insisted a bit more that I should see a doctor, before I made her hang up and have fun.

 

A tear escaped, despite my best efforts and I wiped it fast, like it was a sin to dwell in self pity.

 

I couldn’t shake the emptiness swirling inside me. I looked at the bouquet of white flowers Alex had sent me, apologizing for what he had done to me, hoping that it would help me feel better, but it didn’t.

 

Unconsciously, I touched my left cheek, my fingers trembling.

 

No, I wasn’t weak. And I was definitely not going to bother my mother with small matters like this. It had only been a slap, the heat of the moment too much for an A type personality like Alex. He was a leader, used to command every group he had ever joined, and I had been wrong to argue anyway.

 

Besides, he had apologized a couple of times since. He really regretted the incident, who was I to overthink everything like a drama queen?

 

No, I was fine.

 

To reinforce my decision, I stood up, pulled my shoulders back and pointed my chin sharp ahead.

 

I had a seminar to attend to, there was no time to weep for minor things I couldn’t change. Instead, I would have coffee with Alex and talk things through. He was a reasonable guy, and we had six months together behind us. It meant something.

 

I grabbed my phone and texted him, then went to take a shower. When I got out, I hurried to check for his reply. There was none.

 

Strangely relieved for his lack of reaction, I chose to ignore the thought that he wasirreverentlyignoring me. I decided, instead, to occupy my mind with some papers I had to read for next week.

 

Half an hour into my study, the phone rang.

 

“Hey, Alex.”

 

“Hi, babe. I’m free now. Wanna have that coffee?”

 

“I’m in the middle of something. Can we do this after my seminar?”

 

“Look, you wanted to talk. Either now or next week. I’m away with my family this weekend.”

 

The prospect of being apart from him, not long ago sad news, seemed like something I could live with. Maybe I could avoid the talk; I had been dreading it from the moment I had pressed send on that text.

 

“OK. I’ll see what I can do. But I guess it could wait until next week.”

 

“Fine. I postpone my own things because you say you want to talk and you find something to get busy with. That’s not very nice.”

 

“I’m sorry…”

 

“I gotta go.”

 

He hang up without another word, leaving me torn between this strange new feeling of relief and guilt for my rudeness. I almost called him back, but managed to stop myself. I needed to finish my reading.

 

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