Misery of Forbidden Love

Homeless, Jobless, Fearless

SAMANTHA

    It's a new day. I thank God for giving me another life to enjoy. I'll live this day as if nothing horrible happened last night.

    I'll brush my hair in front of this mirror and apply light makeup like I always do to look presentable in front of our customers. I'll serve them cheerfully and professionally, again like I always do. I shouldn't allow my personal life to interfere with my performance at the job site. That is so unprofessional.

    I got up from the vanity mirror, strode to the closet, and stumbled when my foot got caught up in something. I looked down and saw the bundle of cash. Luckily, I was able to regain my balance before I could totally fall on the floor.

    The horror of last night suddenly played in my head in a fast-forward as I stared at the money, and I felt my eyes start to burn.

    I immediately blinked my tears away, for I had enough last night, and I promised to myself that I wouldn't cry again for someone who couldn't fight for me.

    Steve said he was preparing something for us, but when his mom showed up, he ignored me and left me alone in withstanding the wickedness of his supercilious mother. 

    I was stupid to believe all his words. However, my feelings for him didn't change even though he left me last night.    I still love him with all my heart, even though my brain is telling me to wake up and stop this madness. 

    Steve and I should talk. I'm sure he had an explanation for everything that would justify his action.

    I picked up the money and continued to the closet to get my backpack.

    I threw the money inside my bag and extra clothes that I'm going to wear after my shift since I will visit Viola's office to return her money.

    Next, I went to my side table and opened the drawer to get my phone.

    I was surprised when I saw an unopened condom beside my phone.

    s**t! We forgot to use protection last night! I need to take the morning-after pill ASAP! I can't afford to get pregnant after what happened. Na ah! No way!

    I grabbed my phone and checked my notifications. There was no missed call from Steve, not even a single text.

    "That bastard!" I groaned as I shoved my phone in my back pocket and headed to the door.

    "How can I explain this to my landlord?" I mumbled while staring at my broken door.

    I need to go to work now, or I'll be running late if I keep standing here. But how would I secure the apartment?

    I fished my phone from my pocket and skimmed through my contacts to call the landlord, and as I found her number, Mrs. Johnson appeared at my doorstep. Perfect timing! As if she knew I was looking for her.

    "Good morning Sam!" She greeted me warmly but with a forced smile.

    "Good morning Mrs. Johnson. I was about to call you," I said, waving my phone to show her name on my screen.

    "I'm really sorry about the door. Just tell me how much I..."

    "It's alright. I'll take care of it." Mrs. Johnson interrupted me.

    "Are you sure? It's my fault, so I should pay for the damage," I insisted.

    "Actually, I came here not to ask you for any compensation. I came here to tell you that you can't stay here anymore."

    "What?!" I snapped.

    "Someone bought this apartment already, and she wants to move here as soon as possible," Mrs. Johnson explained, and then I noticed the sense of guilt in her eyes.

    "You didn't tell me that this apartment was for sale. I always paid on time, never broke any rules, and we have a contract. You didn't mention in the contract that this apartment is for sale and that I should evacuate the place immediately if someone buys it," I pointed out.

    Mrs. Johnson didn't answer and shifted her gaze to her shoes.

    She was the kindest lady I've met ever since I moved here to the city. She's in her late '40s, no kids but happily married. She and her husband even invited me to join them for dinner one time. So, what's with this drama now?

    "Why are you doing this to me, Mrs? Johnson?" When suspicion started to pollute my mind.

    "And where should I go if you kick me out now?" I added.

    Mrs. Johnson found the courage to look at me again. "I'm really sorry, Sam. I have no choice. If I don't do this, I will lose my whole property," she confessed.

    My blood boiled, hearing my landlord's statement. "It's Viola Langerfield. Isn't it? She told you to do this?" Mrs. Johnson nodded with a shameful expression on her face.

    That b***h! How could she drag innocent people to our problem?!

    I feel bad for Mrs. Johnson. I could tell she didn't want me to leave, but Viola put her in a difficult position and left her no choice. And it breaks my heart to see her like this, doing something against her will, so I'll make things easier for this poor lady.

    "It's okay, Mrs. Johnson. I will leave tomorrow morning."

    "I'm sorry, dear, but the owner wants the apartment tonight," she said, dejected.

    "I understand, but I need to go to work. I can't pack my things now," I calmly told her.

    "Don't worry, Sam. I'll help you pack your stuff. It's the least I can do for you from kicking you out of your apartment like this. I'm truly sorry, my dear," Mrs. Johnson pulled me for a hug, and I reciprocated her action.

    "It's okay, and I should be the one saying sorry to you. For dragging you into my problems," I mutter.

    Mrs. Johnson released me from her arms. "I have a sister who owns an apartment building three blocks from here. I'll tell her to give you a good discount," she offered.

    No matter how tempting her offer was, I couldn't put her sister at risk. Viola will do the same to her sister, that's for sure.

    I shook my head. "I appreciate your offer, but it's better if I stay away from you and whoever is related to you. Viola will indeed threaten your sister if she finds out that I'm living in her building," I explained to her, highlighting the consequences of having me around.

    "You have a point. Anyway, regarding your stuff, I'll keep them in my spare storage in the basement. Just passed by my house later after work, okay?"

    "I will. Thank you so much, Mrs. Johnson. You're an angel," I complimented the lady's kindness.

    "Need to rush," I added.

    Mrs. Johnson moved to the side, giving me space to pass. Then we hugged each other for one last time before I raced to work.

*****

    I glanced at my watch the moment I landed in front of the cafe, and it showed 6:50 AM. Fortunately, I managed to arrive ten minutes earlier before my shift.

    I reached for the metal bar handle of the shop glass door and stopped halfway as I remembered the first time Steve and I met six months ago...

"Good morning, sir! Welcome to Aromi Café!" I warmly greeted the tall, stunning guy in an expensive suit who entered the cafe with an athletic build. And I know exactly who he is. The CEO of LDC, Steven Langerfield.

"Good morning..." His eyes fell on my nametag, "Sam." He greeted me back, followed by a charming.

"What would you like to have, sir?" I asked the handsome guy. Still smiling, of course.

"Steve."

"As you wish!" I smiled, "What would you like to have, sir Steve?" I continued.

"Could you drop the sir? You're making me feel so old." He pouted but never lost his manly composure, and even if he's not smiling, he still looked so attractive!

"Steve then," I finally said.

"Are you new? This is the first time I saw you here," he inquired, curious.

"Yes, I am. I don't mean to be rude, but can I take your order now, Steve?" I looked behind him. "You're kinda holding the line," I said nicely.

Steve looked behind and saw five people waiting in line. "Oh. I'm so sorry," he apologized when he turned his attention back to me.

"I'll have an espresso, a slice of blueberry cheesecake, and..." he signaled me to move closer, and I obediently followed him. We both leaned towards each other, ending up so close that I could feel his breath on my face. "...your mobile number, please," he whispered.

I chuckled at his hilarious statement but didn't bother to reply. I don't want to be part of his collection because he just proved that he's a certified playboy.

I punched his order, only after that did I reply, "that would be $12.75, Steve."

He quietly handed me $20. "Keep the change," he said in a serious tone and advanced to the claiming area.

I continued attending to the other customers, forgetting about what happened earlier, that Steven Langerfield was flirting with me. 

I carried on with my job until the end of my shift.

"Bye, guys!" I waved at my colleagues

"Bye, Sam! Take care!" they replied.

I opened the door without looking, and as I stepped outside, I bumped my head into a rock-solid chest.

"I'm sorry!" we both said simultaneously, and when I looked up, I saw Steve towering over me.

"I came back to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was acting like a d**k, but I'm a gentleman. I swear," he said, wearing a worried and sincere expression at the same time.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him with me to the side of the café. I don't want other people to hear Steve saying kind words to me, especially my colleagues, because they will instantly think that something is going on between Steve and me. Gossips in workplaces are the worse!

"I appreciate your effort for coming back just to apologize to me, so I accept your apology." I smiled.

"Thank you, Sam. Can we start over?" Even though I didn't have any plans in affiliating myself with rich people, his pleading eyes forced me to give him a chance.

I offered my hand for a handshake. "I'm Samantha Bartley. You can call me Sam for short."

Steve shook my hand. "Steven Langerfield, and you call me Steve."

    ...and that's where it all started, from that one friendly handshake.

    I resumed opening the door once I snapped out of my daydream, but the café manager, Mr. Long, stopped me before I was able to enter the shop. "I'm sorry, Sam, but you no longer work here."

    "What?!" For the second time around today, I snapped, saying the same word.

    "The order came from higher management," my manager replied.

    I gritted my teeth. "Viola!"

    "What's that?"

    I spun on my heel without addressing my manager's question and angrily marched towards the LDC building beside the café.

    I barreled into the building and made a beeline to the reception.

    "I'm here to see your Chairwoman Viola Langerfield," I arrogantly told the receptionist.

    The inner corner of the receptionist's eyebrows met. "Do you have an appointment?"

    "I don't but tell her that Samantha Bartley is here to see her," I can feel the blood rushing to my brain from excessive anger.

    The receptionist picked up the phone and dialed a number, and I patiently waited until she finished talking to someone almost inaudibly since I couldn't hear what she was saying.

    "Here's your keycard. You may proceed to the golden elevator. It will take you straight to the penthouse." She placed a golden keycard in front of me.

    I slammed my hand on top of the keycard, snatched it from the reception desk, and stomped down the hall leading to the elevator.

    I'm not scared of you anymore, Viola! I'll show you who Samantha Bartley is.