𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 was raised from the ground up knowing nothing but comparison and perfection.
She compared herself to her successful parents, supermodel sister, and glamorous friends. Instead of love, she harbored a raging jealousy for nea...
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S i m o n e
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It was only 2 weeks.
Just 2 weeks of pain and I'd get one of the few things I'd been craving for years.
I didn't even bother questioning where the fuck Nicolas would get a Himalayan Birkin from, the sudden excitement washing over me instead.
One day down, 13 to go, I told myself as I finally climbed into bed after days of sleeping on the couch. As I settled down beneath the covers, I thought back over what the fuck I agreed to and how it even came to be.
Why the hell did Nicolas care at all? How did he get my phone number? Was this a dramatic ploy to steal the painting off my wall when I wasn't looking?
Just thinking about all the questions I had about our situation made my head hurt. The yoghurt was good but it wasn't enough to prevent the feeling of constant exhaustion I had been feeling. So instead of trying to debunk a man I'd never understand, nor care to, I just closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep.
✢
2 hours ago
"Okay, so start with the yoghurt, Simone," Nicolas said easily, despite the fact he just promised a girl he didn't like a bag that would cost half his monthly income, listed at $450,000.
Simone hesitantly glared at the cup as if it were worth a million calories. Her hands shook as she slowly reached out for it, but stopped short, her hand just hanging in the air.
Nicolas pursed his lips, trying not to overthink about what the hell he was doing. He grabbed the cup and spoon from the coffee table, meeting her halfway and placing it in her hand.
"Sit up more," he said softly, placing his hand on her back, giving her a soft nudge so Simone could fold her legs in and come to a full seat against the back of the couch.
