They Called Me Selfish for Asking Him to Feed His Own Son Chapter 05
I look at the messages and laugh.
Now you’re worried? Where was that before?
My phone keeps buzzing. I don’t answer. Don’t even read them.
I grab my suitcase from baggage claim and walk outside.
The training center sent a driver. He’s holding a sign with my name.
I introduce myself and get in the car.
The city outside the window is unfamiliar. I’ve never been here before.
My phone rings again. Derek.
He’s panicking, calling nonstop since my phone’s not off.
I don’t pick up.
I finally escaped that suffocating place. I’m not letting them ruin this peace.
The training center is on the edge of the city. About an hour’s drive.
It’s an impressive building with a sign, [Apex Solutions HQ Training Center.] Security at the gate. Strict.
The driver hands me my suitcase. “Mrs. Shaw, check in at the front desk. They’ll show you to your room.”
The receptionist verifies my info and hands me a schedule and a stack of materials. “Training starts tomorrow at eight. Six-month program. Fully immersive. You’ll surrender all electronic devices. Here’s the
handbook.”
I glance at the schedule.
Wake up at six. Lights out at ten. Classes packed from morning to night-industry theory, case studies,
exams, presentations.
This is no joke.
“Device hand-in is tomorrow morning,” she adds. “You can use your phone tonight. Take care of anything
personal.”
I nod. Drag my suitcase to the elevator.
Twelfth floor. Small room. Clean.
A twin bed. A desk. A window with a view of hills.
I unpack, hang my clothes in the closet, then lie down and stare at the ceiling.
For the first time in years, my chest feels light.
I’ve been living in someone else’s house. The couch his dad picked. The curtains his mom chose. The vase
on the dining table-a souvenir from one of Derek’s charity dinners.
My bedroom nightstand was always stacked with bills and pill bottles. My closet full of clothes I never had
time to wear.
This little room is bare. But it’s mine.
Six months. No one’s medical bills. No appointments. No monthly panic over the budget.
I lie there for a while, then pick up my phone.
Derek’s messages have piled up. Dozens of them. From confused, to annoyed, to pissed.
[Clara, where the hell are you? The power got cut. Pay the bill.]
[Handle it.]
[Why aren’t you answering?]
[My parents’ meds-when are you bringing them?]
[You’re not taking care of Leo’s tuition?]
[You’re so irresponsible.]
[I swear, if you don’t come back, there will be consequences.]
Almost a hundred missed calls. From eight in the morning till now.
I’m about to lock the screen when it rings again.
This time, it’s his mom.
I hesitate for a second. Then pick up.
