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Chapter 2

SAVED

JOAN

Coming out of the complex and walking down the streets with silent tears rolling down my face is a direct contrast to how I came in.

The one joy of my life was a fraud.

I have no one.

Absolutely no one, on my side.

Unable to help it, I collapse to the floor, right there on the streets as deep wracking sobs tear through me.

“What did I do to deserve this?!” I cry. “It's not like I wanted to be a part of their family!”

It wasn't.

I had gone through my childhood years knowing nothing about my father until my mom died and then at her funeral, he showed up and said he would be taking me home.

I was twelve when that happened and there is not a day that has passed that I haven't regretted it. I don't know why he came for me if he was just going to ignore me but that is what he did.

Ignored me and left me at the hands of his vicious wife while showering his other daughter with all love and affection.

Out of everyone, it is him I hate the most.

“Hey! Yes you, are you okay?”

I look up to see a pixie-like lady waving her hands in my face

“Oh, wow. You are not okay. Come on,” she says as she pulls me to my feet. “Let's get you a nice cup of tea, that should calm you down.

I don't say anything.

My mind and mouth are still numb from everything that just went down and I dumbly allow her to pull me along into a nice warm cafe.

“A hot latte please and an iced one for me,” she orders before heading to a table. “There you go,” she says as she deposits me in a chair. “Here is some tissue, why don't you clean those tears off your face?”

She takes her and turns towards the window while I clean my face giving me a semblance of privacy.

The drinks arrive and I thank her for mine.

“It's fine,” she says, waving away my thanks. “Sometimes we just need someone to pull us out of the slump we are in.”

“I guess,” I mutter before taking a sip. The smooth way it goes down my throat helps in calming my nerves.

“So, boy trouble?” she asks, her hazel eyes fixed eerily on me before she pulls back. “Sorry, I am told I get too nosy in people’s business. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.”

“It is fine. And yes, you can say boy trouble.”

“Hmm, he cheated?”

“Yes.”

“Douchebag.”

“With my half-sister.”

“Wow. Asshole extraordinaire!”

I can't help it, I laugh at her exclamation. A shocked small laugh that quickly dies out.

“Ah, there it is. I knew there was a smile in there,” she remarks with a gentle tone.

“Why are you helping me?” I ask.

“Like I said, sometimes, people need someone to pull them out. For today, I am your someone. You can offload on me if you want.”

“Oh, I couldn't possibly do that. You have already been too good to me.”

“I don't mind. Little secret, I am a writer, and I love listening to people's stories. You can share yours.”

So I do.

I tell her everything. All that I went through at the hands of Vivian and Mira, all I am still going through, all my frustrations and pains, and the acute betrayal I feel right now.

It is cathartic in a way.

1 on a total stranger seems to do wonders.

Oh, didn't get me wrong, I don't feel better. But it does offer perspective.

And brought up questions I didn't want to ask.

Why am I still with them?

I have my job and I can get my apartment, why am I with them?

I don't take anything from them and they have never offered me anything, so why stay?

“Your family is crap,” she says after I am done and I can't help but agree.

“No offense to you-”

“None taken.”

“-but some people just have bad blood running in their veins, and for some reason, it skipped you, or did it?”

“What do you mean?” I ask in confusion

“Well, you are not a pushover, you have got steel in you, so why not turn it against them.”

“You mean like a revenge play?”

“Yes.”

“Fantasy.”

“No. It is very much possible-”

“Not with me. Listen, I have thought about it and if u want to get some form of revenge, I will need money, connections, and means things that they had deliberately kept from my reach. I wouldn't know where to start. No, the best thing I can do right now is just leave.”

“And have them win, come on!”

“What kind of writer did you say you were again?”

“A fiction writer!” she says with a smile.

“Of course. Well, I am sorry to disappoint you but I can't offer you that story. It doesn't happen to people like me.”

“Hmm, never say never… What is your name again?” she asks with an embarrassed smile.

“Joan. Joan Vale.”

“Vale… Vale? As in Vale Enterprises? Your father is Logan Vale?! Vivian Vale? The sweetheart of the city and your sister… Your sister is Mira? The sweetheart?!” she asks, her voice growing increasingly louder with each question.

“Yep. It's that family.”

“Damn. Rich people are crazy pretenders.”

“Tell me about it.”

‘I am Louisa by the way. You can call me Lou.”

“Well,” I say as I get to my feet. “Thank you, Lou. For listening, for the coffee, for everything.”

“Don't mention it. But wait… give me your phone,” she demands as she gets to her feet.

“My phone?” I ask as I hand it over.

“Yep.”

I watch as she dials a number and then her phone rings.

“Now we have each other's numbers. I will call on you, just to check up, and maybe have another cup of latte.”

“I will like that. Thank you and goodbye.”

“Bye, till we see again.”

I walk away with a wan smile, for a while I had someone to vent with, truly bent with and I can't believe the difference between her and George.

She was genuine.

I could feel it.

“I am such an idiot,” I scoff as I hail a cab

Throughout the ride back, I kept going over the same thought.

Why don't I leave?

Nothing is holding me back and it is not like they would care.

We would both be free of each other

It seems to be the best solution all around and I decide to go with it.

The relief at that choice only lasts for so long before we arrive at my residence.

I pay the can man and with a determined inhale of air, I head inside.

From the living room, I can hear the low murmurs of laughter and conversation.

Great, they have guests.

I am just about to sneak up the stairs when Mira’s voice interrupts.

“Oh, Joan. You are here, thank heavens.”

With a glower, I turn around to see her standing at the entrance of the living room, hands on her chest and a vulnerable look on her face.

What is she playing at now?

“We have guests.”

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