39

Jennifer.
We finally arrived at Tomas’s house, and as soon as we pulled up, a wave of anxiety washed over me. My heart raced as I felt an overwhelming urge to escape. The moment I could, I sprinted up the stairs, desperate to put distance between us. Tomas was standing there, his eyes blazing with fury, his voice echoing through the lavish hall as he yelled for me to stop.
“What? What do you want from me now?!” I screamed, my voice infused with a mix of panic and frustration, my heart pounding wildly in my chest as I raced up the stairs.
“How could you forget me that easily?! I’m sure you are faking this! You can’t deceive me anymore! You’re just trying to hide your freak past relationship with Jack!” Tomas shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls, each word a piercing arrow aimed straight at my heart.
I spun my head around, a defiant grin spreading across my face, even as my insides twisted. “I hate you! I don’t know you! Stay away from me!” I yelled back, my voice cracking with emotion, then dashed into a room and locked the door behind me. Once inside, the floodgates opened, and I began to cry heavily, my sobs filling the silence like a haunting melody.
But the torment didn’t stop; Tomas was still shouting and yelling from downstairs, and the echo of his voice penetrated the walls and the door, making my heart ache even more painfully.
“Keep acting like this, Jennifer; your performance is useless! I know that you’re just a liar, and all you want to do is run away from me to be with your Jack, that’s all! I’ve discovered your whole twisted lie! Don’t ever think about it, Jennifer!” Tomas continued to yell, his words like daggers, stabbing deep into my heart.
He kept insulting and humiliating me, each word a cruel reminder of my vulnerabilities. In that moment, I was flooded with memories of my days with Jack, and it filled me with regret and sorrow. The weight of my choices pressed down on me like an anchor, dragging me deeper into despair.
So, in a moment of desperation and clarity, I decided to write a letter explaining the whole story and everything that had happened between me and Jack. I wanted to show Tomas this letter at the right time, hoping he would understand the complexities of my past and the reasons for my actions.
I picked up a pen and a piece of paper and began to write, pouring my heart out onto the page…
**A Few Years Ago…**
After I left the orphanage where I had lived for so long, following the tragic death of my family, I thought that I would easily find a room and a job to start rebuilding my life. Of course, I was naive at that time. I was too innocent; I had never lived outside of the orphanage before. I thought everything would be possible, but it turned out to be a huge mistake.
I searched for days for a job and a place to stay, my hopes dwindling with each passing hour. I was homeless, but if I returned to the orphanage, I would have to stay there forever. One cold, bitter night, I noticed a huge house where no one seemed to live, so I decided to hide there, hoping for a moment of peace. I fell asleep, utterly exhausted, wrapped in my thin jacket.
After a few hours of restless sleep, I was jolted awake by someone yelling at me and pushing me to get out of his house. That someone was Jack, who was so arrogant and rude, exactly like Tomas, that heartless man I had just encountered.
I begged him to allow me to stay just for that night because it was a snowy day, the wind howling outside, but he showed me no mercy. He kicked me out of the house, and I was so hungry, not knowing where to go. Even at that moment, going back to the orphanage was impossible with all the snow covering the streets and no transportation available. I had spent all the money I had with me on food and bus fare.
Desperate and cold, I jumped back into the house through the kitchen window, which had been left open. I stayed there, hiding on my knees, until he found me by coincidence. I didn’t realize that when I jumped back in, I was so hungry that I opened the fridge and devoured most of the food, drinking all the milk. I was almost unconscious from fatigue and hunger.
So when he opened the fridge and saw the mess I had made, he screamed, thinking a ghost was living in his house. I couldn’t help but laugh loudly when I saw the terrified look on his face, like a little kid who had seen a monster.
He heard me and caught me, trying to kick me out of the house again, threatening to call the cops if I didn’t leave.
I laughed again and told him it was snowy outside, and if he called the cops, no one would come. It might take them more than twenty hours to reach us, given the weather. I was stubborn, and in that moment, I felt a spark of rebellious joy.
He asked me what I wanted from him and offered me some money, but I refused his money. Instead, I asked him to let me stay in his house until I found a job and could rent a room. At first, he flatly refused, his pride evident, but eventually, after much back and forth, he allowed me to stay for just twenty-four hours.
I accepted that offer, grateful for the roof over my head, even if it was temporary.
But in the early morning, I woke up and cooked breakfast for him as a thank you for letting me stay the night. He loved my food, and after that, he asked me to work for him as a housekeeper, promising to pay me a good salary.
I accepted the offer until I could find another job. But during all that time, I didn’t realize that Jack was a famous singer. I was oblivious to the world outside my struggles, too consumed by my own survival to notice his celebrity.
The very next morning, I got a call from a newspaper, and they offered me a job as a reporter. I was overjoyed and asked Jack if I could keep working at his house while starting my new job. He accepted, but only on one condition: I must not tell anyone that I was living in the same house as him. At that time, I didn’t understand why… I thought he was just a wealthy businessman or something, not a singer.
So I began my work as a reporter, and they gave me hard tasks to complete. I was barely able to breathe, and when I returned to Jack’s house, I worked so hard that I hardly slept or took any rest. I was drowning in deadlines and expectations, and the pressure felt suffocating.
Until that fateful day when the journalist fired me. I returned home early that day, feeling defeated. Jack was still sleeping when I hurried to my room to catch up on some sleep too, but I took off my clothes and wrapped myself in only a towel, seeking comfort in my exhaustion.
Suddenly, there was a strong knocking on the door of the house, and my heart raced with anxiety.
Still unfocused and with my eyes closed, I rushed to the door to open it, with Jack running behind me. I hadn’t realized that Jack was trying to stop me from opening the door while I was just in a towel. I completely forgot that I was only wearing a towel.
As soon as I reached for the doorknob, Jack jumped on me to stop me, and we both fell to the floor, his body on top of mine, and our lips brushed together in a shocking moment of contact.
And that was when reporters outside the door began capturing our pictures, their cameras flashing like lightning.
At that moment, the scandal began, unraveling everything I had worked for.
He quickly closed the door, fighting with me over what had just happened. He started to explain that he was a famous singer and that he had thought I already knew that, but I was too stunned to process his words.
A few minutes later, while he kept screaming and blaming me for what I did, the newspaper called me to offer me a job again, but this time it came with a contract as a journalist…
I jumped up like a little child in excitement, covering my face with my hands in disbelief. He kept trying to convince me not to accept the job, insisting that they were only offering it to me because of the pictures. But I didn’t listen to him; I packed my clothes and prepared to leave. He blocked my way, refusing to let me go, desperation in his eyes.
I was foolish for not listening to him, but he was right: all they wanted was to hire a famous girl like me. After the scandal, everyone talked about me in the news as Jack’s girlfriend who lived in the same house as him, my reputation tarnished by association.
He did everything in his power to protect his reputation, allowing me to stay and work as his assistant until he figured out a solution for this scandal. But then one day, a handsome man appeared, opening the door of the house with his own key. At that time, I was sick with a nasty flu, and Jack had been taking care of me. I was sleeping on the couch, and when that man opened the door, he thought Jack was kissing me. The truth was, I was asleep, and Jack had fallen asleep next to me, hugging me, a protective gesture that I had grown to cherish.
This man shouted Jack’s name, startling me awake. Jack hushed him, and they moved to the kitchen to talk about me and the scandal.
Jack explained that I was just a homeless girl and that everything had been a misunderstanding. At that moment, I thought Jack actually cared about me; the rude man transformed into someone sweet and understanding, and I felt a flicker of hope.
As his assistant, I traveled everywhere with him, tagging along on his tours and to the studio, wherever he went, I followed, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety with each new destination.
Until that fateful day when I saw him kissing another girl, and I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. I left for a few hours to gather my thoughts, my mind racing with confusion and hurt. When I returned, he was worried about me. I started to insult him, asking why he cared about me and telling him that I had seen him with another girl. He laughed and insisted she was just a fan who tried to kiss him, but he was actually gay. That revelation shocked me to my core and shattered my perception of everything we had built.
I left that day, after months of living together as coworkers, heartbroken and confused. I confess that I had feelings for him, but nothing more ever happened between us, a bittersweet reality that lingered in my heart.
This is the truth, Tomas…
And with that, I closed the letter, hoping it would finally help him understand the complexity of my emotions and the tangled web of my past.