Chapter Three: Unwanted Reunion

Natacha's POV

It’s been seven years since Mom walked out of my life. Seven long years, and a lot has happened since then. I’ve come to terms with the harsh reality that my parents don’t give a damn about me, and if you ask me, I don’t care anymore either. Not that I haven’t tried. But part of me, deep down, still craves their love—the kind I know will never come.

I’ve learned to survive without them. I’ve learned to fend for myself. They’ve left me alone to grow up in this world where no one ever took my side. High school wasn’t much of a change. I still played the role of the rebellious daughter, pushing everyone away, acting out—anything to feel something. Anything to get their attention. But all I ever got was the same indifference, the same coldness, and the same isolation.

So now, I do things on my own terms. My grades are good—hell, I’ve got that part of my life together. But when it comes to anything else? I’m just a troublemaker. A brat. A girl with too much attitude and too much anger to hold back.

And right now, I find myself sitting in the principal’s office, once again waiting for my dad’s reaction to my latest misstep. It’s ridiculous, really. But I don’t care. If anything, I almost find it amusing. Almost.

After a few minutes, I get a call from Dad. His voice is the same as always—cold, distant, as though everything he does is out of obligation rather than love.

“Dad, you’re here early,” I say when I answer the phone, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Principal called me,” he responds bluntly. “I was already in town, so I’m coming home to get you. We need to talk.” that's all he said and he hang up,

I left the principal office and went home to meet Dad sitting on the couch waiting for me

I can’t help the sinking feeling that washes over me. “What now?”

“Pack your things,” he says. “You’re going to your mom’s.”

My heart stops. The last time I had been at Mom’s was so long ago, before everything fell apart. Before I became the girl no one could handle.

“What?” I ask, disbelief lacing my voice. “Dad, in the middle of school? You can’t be serious.”

“You’ll be living with your mom now,” he continues. “I can’t do this anymore. She’s better suited to handle you.”

I feel my stomach drop, but I don’t show it. “She’s... better?” I repeat, incredulous. “And what about my life? What about my friends? My boyfriend?”

Dad lets out a frustrated sigh. “Enough, Natacha. This isn’t up for discussion. I can’t handle you right now. I don’t have the time to keep putting up with your rebellion. This is for your own good.”

A cold bitterness fills my chest. “So what? I’m a burden to you now?” I snap, my voice shaking with anger. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll go.”

I don’t even bother arguing with him.

The next thing I know, I’m packing my things, moving out, and leaving everything behind. I tell myself it doesn’t matter, that I don’t care. But I can’t stop the small part of me that still hopes, still wishes for something—anything—from my mother.

---

I arrive at Mom’s place a few hours later, the ride silent and tense. The cityscape outside blurs by as we make our way to her penthouse, and I’m not sure what to expect. Mom was always distant, wrapped up in her glamorous world, living with no real concern for me. It’s been years since I last saw her, and I know she hasn’t changed. She’s still the same self-absorbed supermodel who cared more about her career than her own flesh and blood.

When Dad pulls up to her building, he doesn’t even bother walking me to the door. He just waves me off as though this is another transaction in the long list of disappointments in our lives. He leaves without saying another word, the door slamming behind him.

I stand there, looking up at the sleek, modern building that’s supposed to be a “home.” It feels more like a prison to me, one I’m being forced into for reasons I can’t even begin to understand.

The door opens, and I see him—Mom’s boyfriend, Ethan Rivers. He's tall, well-built, and ridiculously handsome. A part of me wants to hate him for taking Mom away from me, but I know better. He’s not the reason Mom abandoned me. He’s just a part of her life that I’ve never been allowed to be a part of.

“Hey,” he says with a small smile, his eyes scanning me. “Welcome. Your mom will be down in a minute.”

I nod, offering him nothing. He might be charming, but he’s a stranger to me. A replacement for the person I once thought I knew as my mother.

I hate him on sight. I know it’s irrational, but I don’t care. It’s easy to blame him for everything that’s gone wrong in my life. If only he hadn’t come into the picture, maybe things would have been different.

I follow him into the apartment, and everything around me is just... pristine. Perfect. Too perfect for me. I want to scream, but I swallow it down.

I spend the next few days at Mom’s place, but it feels like I’m invisible here. Every time I try to talk to her, she’s either out working or occupied with Ethan. It’s like I’m nothing but a burden on them. I can’t even tell if Mom knows I’m here—or if she even cares. I’m just a ghost, floating around her life, unseen and ignored.

---

But I’m not one to just sit idly by. I’m not going to let this continue. I’ve spent my whole life being ignored, and I’m done. If Mom isn’t going to pay attention to me, I’ll make her.

I start plotting, carefully observing her routine. What time does she leave? When does Ethan come over? What’s her schedule?

For days, I watch, taking mental notes. Every second feels like an eternity, but I’m patient. I have to be. I need the perfect opportunity.

Finally, after nearly two weeks of waiting, I’ve got everything lined up. I know exactly when Mom will be out of the house and when Ethan will be alone.

---

It’s late one evening when I finally decide to make my move. I’m hungry for something—attention, affection, validation. And it’s not from my mom. It’s from Ethan. There’s no real logic to it, but I don’t care. I know what I’m doing, and I know it’s wrong. But at this point, what’s left for me to lose?

I slip downstairs into the kitchen, heart pounding in my chest. And there he is—Ethan, standing shirtless, looking like a Greek god, holding a bottle of water. He’s casually leaning against the fridge, and I can’t help but stare.

He catches me looking, and for a second, we just stand there, sizing each other up.

“I—sorry,” I stammer, feeling a rush of heat. “I didn’t know you’d be out here. I was just getting a bottle of water.”

He looks at me, his eyebrow raised slightly, but his smile never falters. “It’s fine,” he says, giving me a once-over. “You okay?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. I don’t know what’s happening or why I’m doing this, but it’s like a switch flips in my mind.

“You look... really hot,” I say, my voice low and flirty. He chuckles, clearly surprised, but he’s not dismissive.

“Thanks,” he says, clearly unsure of what to make of the situation.

I move closer, closing the space between us. “You know,” I say, taking a breath, “Mom doesn’t have to know about this.”

His expression hardens a little. “What are you talking about?” he says, almost nervously.

Before he can move, I step in front of him, standing on my toes, placing my hand around his neck, and pulling him down for a kiss.

His lips are soft, but he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t push me away, but he doesn’t embrace it either. He’s confused. But I’m running out of time. I need something from him.

And then the door slams open.

“What the hell is going on here?” a voice booms.