"Drive." I say, eyes flitting to the pair of dark eyes staring at me from the rear view mirror.

The taxi driver arches a brow at me, but doesn't question me, sees the panic on my face.

"Where to, Miss?"

I don't even fucking know.

I don't know anything anymore.

"Just a decent hotel, please."

"You got it. You all right, Miss?" His voice is kind even though he doesn't know me.

"I— I don't know... I ah, I just made a mistake." I don't have a clue why saying it hurts this much.

The guy introduced himself as Masaï, he's dressed in a white linen shirt. He's quiet most of the drive, stops about five minutes later.

"There you go Miss." Masaï stops next to the white building, blue and navy-striped fabric flutters around through an open window.

Oceanside Hotel.

I hand him cash and get out, take my suitcase from the backseat and make my way to the reception area.

"And how long will you be staying with us, Miss Swan?" The clerk behind the counter stares at my ID before looking at me again, a fake smile plastered on her face.

"I don't know yet. I'll start with two nights." She nods and takes my card information.

"The pool is right out back, and open from eight a.m. until nine at night." The blonde woman hands me a keycard in a paper baggie that has my room number.

The room seems luxurious, yet not too much. There's a white pleather boxspring in the middle of the back wall, blue and white patterned curtains behind the bed and in front of the widows. I have two windows, and they overlook the pool in the courtyard.

I spot the no-smoking signs and roll my eyes, crack the window open. If Masen could do this, so can I. Grabbing my lighter, I throw my backpack on the floor and empty one of the candle holders to use as an ashtray. I sit down underneath the window, hot air blowing in to the clearly air-conditioned room.

What am I going to do now? I booked two nights in this room, but what comes after? Do I leave? Do I stay? There's nothing to go back to, anyway. My studio is rented out to someone else who wanted an affordable, crappy place to live in, so I'd be as homeless as I am here.

My phone rings, pulling me out of my string of thoughts. I see Esme's name flash onto the screen and grab it, conjuring a smile on my face when I pick up.

"Hi! Yeah, I just got in — sorry I didn't call you sooner."

She lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh, I'm so glad, honey! How is it?" I swear I can see the expression on her face just by how happy she sounds.

"Good! Very good, Masen's place is amazing." I lie.

"Well, enjoy. Don't forget about our Skype call on Friday, okay?"

"No, I won't forget. I promise. Text me, Esme! Or I'll miss you." I snicker.

"Oh, Bella... I bet you won't even have the time to miss me. Go hug your man for me, okay? Tell him he's an angel to give you the life you deserve." I bite back tears at her words.

"Y— yeah, I will. Thank you, Esme."

"Anytime."

I cry, lean my head back against the wall. I'm screwed, utterly screwed. That's what I get for giving everything up for a guy. Back to square one, or even below zero.

The worst thing is that I don't want to go, I don't want to leave him even though he's cheating on me. I count the days in my head. I have three days until I am supposed to arrive. Three days to figure it all out. Three days to decide.

A text comes in, about five minutes later. From him, from Masen.

I hope you're packing your bag... I fucking miss you — miss you wrapped around me.

I choke on my tears, imagine him out with that girl, hiding his phone from her. Am I a fucking side piece? Were we exclusive, or not? Why didn't we ever have a decent conversation about this, about us?

My thumbs hover over the keyboard, and I tremble. I crave a drink, a hit, a huff of weed to get me by, but I don't know anyone here and I don't have anything on me.

Three days...

It's all I type before I go shower and bury myself in the plus bed. I fall asleep and wake up when it's dark outside. It's three a.m. and I don't know what to do with myself, until I walk to my bag and take out my journal. I write. To Rose.

Hi Rose,

I know you were looking out for me, and it's come to bite me in the fucking ass. You were right... I know. You're probably gloating right now, but yeah. I'm an idiot.

He's fucking someone else — I think. She's gorgeous and inked and tan... They left his apartment together.

I'm sorry I yelled at you, and that I called you a bad nurse.

I'm sorry.

I should've listened.

Nope, our boy didn't tell his girl he had a sister — a very pretty sister. He's so forgetful around his little doe...
Thanks for reading xoxo