The Billionaire's Unwanted Nanny

Chapter 3: Rock Bottom

I woke to pitch blackness, a headache, and an empty stomach. For a moment, I just lay there. I have to be one of the most unlucky people on this earth. Stupidly having s*x with the boss of my seasonal job, check. Falling in love with the same boss and planning our whole future together only for him to shut me down, check. Agreeing to be a part of the wedding for my ex and my sister, check. My parents hate me, check.

I sighed deeply before forcing myself to get up. I powered up my phone before heading to the bathroom. The constant pings tell me I have several text messages. I know those would be from my father, brother, and sister. Mother would have spent the last few hours rehashing our argument and painting me in a negative light. I don't believe I am the problem, even though everyone around me tries hard to convince me of that.

Mother wants an apology from me? Even though, in the same conversation, she admitted to being horrible to me. She told me I should have given in to the unreasonable demands of my boss and just had s*x with him to keep the internship. She also told me that I paint myself as the victim and that being hurt that my boyfriend of 7 years is marrying my sister is something I should be over. It's not a big deal. The real reason she thinks I should be over it is that she always thought I was lucky he paid me attention in the first place. I was homely, unpretty, and overweight. I should take what I can get.

It's bullshit. My doctor has told me that with my structure, I would need to lose 30-40 pounds, but I would never be rail thin like my mother and sister. It wasn't in the cards. I got my genes from my father's side of the family. They were all shorter, curvy women. I was the only child built like his side. You would think he would protect me from her cruel words. He doesn't. He always takes her side. What's the idiom? Happy wife, happy life. He is the embodiment of that.

Shoving two Tylenol in my mouth, I go to pick up my phone. No time like the present. I smirk to myself correct on who I had text messages from. Slowly it fades as I read the messages. From dad: Why would you upset your mother? Taking her side like normal, I closed the message. Do you know how much stress mum and I are under planning a wedding? Of course, April finds a way to throw her wedding in my face. I closed that one and read my brother's; Sis, do you really need to antagonize her? I swear you like pissing her off. I chuckle to myself, not replying to any of them.

Another message just makes me sadder. Ryan sent me my modified schedule. Four days this week, three days the next week, two days in the third week, and one half a day in the last week. I would only have 9 and 1/2 days left with Jake. I probably could have gotten more if I had just kept my legs shut. Funny, I was appalled when my supervisor ensured s*x with him would further me at my internship at a pretty successful clothing brand. I adamantly refused. Yet, the boss who had never made any passes at me. I sleep with him and hope for more because of a silly crush. I'm so stupid.

I headed to my fridge to finally put something on my screaming stomach. I reached for a pre-made salad kit even though I wanted to cry over some chocolate. I couldn't do that, though. I needed to lose the extra pounds. Not for April or James, but maybe my family would be kinder if I did. Maybe I would have had a chance with Ryan if I did so. God, I was so pathetic. This was truly rock bottom.

Grabbing my laptop, I pulled up my student portal and checked my class schedule. I munched, disheartened, on the dreaded salad as I checked to make sure at least that was going right. Luckily, it was a small mercy. My application for graduation was pending these four little classes. I could do this. I could finish, and my designs that I've never shown anyone would definitely be a hit. If I can just get someone to give me a chance, my clothing line could go a long way to body positivity. Not just for the chubby girls but also for the awkwardly tall, super-thin, muscular-etcetera. I've been planning flattering clothing for all body types. You can't change how you're built, but everyone should feel beautiful.

My hand hovers over the other services. My mother screeching I needed counseling did hold some weight to it. I don't know if it is me. I don't know if I'm truly the problem or if they are. I do know I shouldn't be this unhappy. It can't be healthy for me to constantly bend over backward just for them to acknowledge me as their family. Hell, I can't get any lower than this. I have no friends left. No love interest. No real family. My only motivation is school, and that ends in 16 short weeks. I needed to start fixing the broken inside of me. How could I be successful if a huge part of me believed I didn't deserve it?

Terrified, I signed up for my first appointment on Friday. I was only working one day that week. I had the time. Crap, I can't believe I am actually doing this. I quickly closed my laptop and focused on cleaning and organizing my home. If I thought too much about it, I would cancel my appointment. I needed to get better.

I was tired of crying and feeling like nothing. I wanted to be better, and I knew I could be. Satisfied when my home was clean, I settled on my couch with my sketch pad. My hand started hesitantly as I sketched a design. A tiny smile appeared as it started to take shape. Peace settled over me. I was reminded at times like these I was worthless. I could create beautiful things, and I was excited to show the world my vision.

I sketched for an endless slice of forever. It was incredibly late when I finally noticed how tired I was. I placed my sketchbook up and headed to bed, groaning when I noted I would only get four hours of sleep. It was worth it. I snuggled into my sheets, feeling my heavy eyes shut. I may be at one of the lowest points of my life. I won't stay here for long, though. I never give up. My mother called me a cockroach when she found out my designs won a full-time scholarship. If I hadn't, I would have been forced into the education track. She thought my looks befit a kindergarten teacher. I had to figure out how to pay for this myself. I did it, though. I got the funding, and now I will graduate with honors. I drifted off. My mind clutched to the feeling of triumph of being able to go to school for what I wanted. A sleepy chuckle escaped me as the incredulous look that had passed over my mother's features that day filled my mind. It would get better, it had to.