Chapter 13

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Long after Devon left, I decide to take care of my business

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Long after Devon left, I decide to take care of my business. Being left alone in this huge house makes me feel antsy and I need to shake it off. I return to my room and pick up my phone. Calling Sophie after ignoring her calls for the whole day, I bite my lips as I wait for her to pick up. The line rings for a while but she eventually answers.

"Look who finally decided to call me up! Took you long enough!" She spits sarcastically, still angry. I let out a weary sigh, running a hand through my hair.

"Hello, Sophie. How are you?" I ask, ignoring her outburst.

"Emma tells me you're living with him already. Is that true? You finally did it, didn't you!?" I hear her scoff. "I can't believe you. After all of the promises!"

"I had to. Besides it's not that bad." I say.

"Just wait a while. I'm sure you'll be taking back your words." She snaps back. Her words hurt but I can't let it show. Steeling my voice, I reply. "It won't happen. I'll make sure of it" Taking a deep breath, I continue speaking. "Did you receive the money I sent you?"

"I'm not touching that. You better return it!"

I don't understand why she's so stubborn. "You have to Sophie. I earned it and you need it. It's not like you've got a job yet." The line is silent and I know she hasn't. I let out a breath.

"But you can keep doing this!" Sophie suddenly says, disgruntled. "How much longer will this go on?!"

I've finally had enough. "Sophie, stop it. It isn't your business. It's mine and I'll do what I see fit. Now take care of yourself and focus on school." I say sternly. "Do you understand?" She hangs up on me and I make to call her back, now vexed. "You answer me when I speak to you  I said, do you understand?" I grit out, letting her know how serious I am. If she were in front of me she'd probably be stiff with anger.

"Yes, I do." She grinds out.

"Good, I love you." I hang up then, holding the phone in my hands. Groaning, I rub my forehead. My head hurts so much.

With nothing else to do, I take a tour of the house, checking the various rooms. My first stop is at the kitchen where I check the cupboard and cabinets and see how empty it is, save for a few common spices. He must not cook for himself. My next location is the fridge. It's loaded with a lot of low-fat, low-sugar produce which would have been good if there wasn't a good portion of chocolates and energy drinks stacked away and lots of bottled water. There's no alcohol in sight. What grown man doesn't drink alcohol?

This won't do. I'll have to get groceries. I stare at the clothes I have on and decide to change into a more suitable outfit. Once I'm done changing, I start to prepare to go out to a supermarket. Luckily the housekeeper arrives just when I'm about to leave. She's a middle-aged woman. Her graying hair is packed neatly into a bun and she has thick clothes. She sees me and stops, a smile stretching her lips. It's one of the warmest smiles I've seen.

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