He pushed her onto the bed with force.
She let out a sharp gasp.
"Why do you always tempt me? Why…" His voice came out weak, trembling.
"Don't interfere in my business," she snapped.
"Ahhh, shit," he muttered, instantly regretting it.
She knew she shouldn't have said that.
"Hey, you're just my fake girlfriend… You've had a lot of things handed to you," he said coldly, his voice harsh while she stared down at the floor.
She really did have a lot of problems.
"I'm a bastard. No family. No one ever wanted to adopt me," she started, her voice low but raw. "You wanna know how messed up I am? Fine. Listen to this…"
She stood up.
"I'm an orphan. I lived in an orphanage room watching every one of my roommates get adopted by different families—everyone except me. The caretakers thought something was wrong with me. Said I must be possessed or cursed because I was pretty but no one wanted me. So, the owner… he beat me. Flogged me until I hated being alive. I was just fifteen."
Tears started to stream down her face, her voice dark and shaky.
"I ran away. I had nowhere to go. Everywhere felt strange. I got a job at a farm store, but someone framed me for stealing. I had nowhere to sleep except under a bridge or behind dumpsters. I had no one to call me by my full name. No one to call me anything."
She wiped at her tears, but they kept falling.
"Then I met Josh. He was kind. He bought me things, treated me like a human being. He called me Sammy. That was the first time I felt like I belonged somewhere. He was like a friend… a brother. I loved him—but only as my boss. But when I turned him down… he turned cruel."
She walked slowly toward Tim.
"So, Tim. Now that you've heard my story, do you feel anything? Do you even feel sympathy?"
"Sam…" he whispered, stunned.
"Oh, great. Nice story, right? Want me to tell you the moral? Or maybe you'd rather keep treating me like dirt," she said bitterly. "At my age, I was already being pressured into selling my body—but I never did. I waited. I wanted the right man. Then you show up and think I'm lucky just to have a contract with you. You talk to me like I'm trash. Like I don't deserve to be here. But I didn't ask to be born, Tim. I didn't ask for my mother to die giving birth to me."
Her body shook with sobs now.
Tim walked to her and gently pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist and brushing away her tears.
"I'm sorry, Samantha," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
She clung to him, trembling.
"Everyone always walks away from me. No one stays…"
"But I will," he said. "I'll stay, Sam. I'll stay for the rest of my life."
"Really?" she asked, looking up at him. Since he was 5'10" and she was much shorter, she had to stretch on her toes just to meet his eyes.
He smiled and picked her up effortlessly. Her legs dangled around his waist.
"Yes, really. And tell me who hurt you. Every single person."
"Including you?" she teased softly.
He chuckled. "Okay… including me."
"I've got this guy bugging me lately… No, wait—that doesn't matter. There's someone claiming to be my mom… and another who says he's in love with me and that I'm his daughter. And the orphanage? They want me back to clear the owner's name because people think he killed me… and then—"
"Shhh," he whispered, pressing a finger to her lips. "One thing at a time."
She quieted down, nodding slowly.
"She really does have a lot going on," he thought.
"So… which one do we handle first?" he asked gently.
She tapped her chin playfully. "Hmm… Got it. The orphanage guy. Barnabas."
"Alright," he said. "But first, you have to take your punishment."
"You're laying a finger on me? I'm gonna report you to my cute bunny."
"And who's that?" he laughed.
"It's you. You're my cute bunny," she giggled, and they both burst out laughing.
the next day
They headed into the orphanage room. Tim had dressed her in his clothes today.
She barged into the man's office—he was slumped in his chair. His beard, white with age, made him look tired and sick. He hadn't noticed anyone enter until Sam shouted at the top of her lungs.
"You bastard!" she screamed.
Startled, he turned to face her. He didn't recognize her at first, especially with a guy standing beside her.
"Who are you?" he asked, coughing loudly.
"So, you're about to die? That's nice," she said, stepping closer. "You don't remember me?" Tim stood beside her, one hand tucked in his pocket.
The man stared at her, then into her blue eyes sparkling with pain. "Sam… Anthat," he muttered.
"Don't you dare say my name with that filthy mouth," she snapped.
"Why are you here? And who is he?"
"She's my woman," Tim answered. The man looked shocked. The girl he once controlled—who would've died if she'd tried to run—was now standing strong, with a rich man by her side. Memories of the way he used to threaten her came rushing back.
"Sam… why are you—"
"Uh-huh," she scoffed. "You told me I'd never be happy. I came here to show you how wrong you were. I'm happy without your stupid orphanage." Her voice was cold and sharp. "I hate you. And I hope you die," she spat, turning to leave with Tim.
"Your parents came here," he said suddenly.
She froze, but kept walking until she reached the doorway.
"They're alive. Your mother didn't die."
She stopped again. "That's nice. Tell them to die too," she said flatly, and walked out.
Tim lingered in the room. He stepped forward, placing his hand firmly on the desk with a loud thud. The man flinched, clearly afraid.
"I want you to tell her parents she's gone. And if I ever hear that you've threatened her again…" He leaned in, his voice low and dangerous. "I swear, I'll make sure this whole place burns with you in it."
Then he walked out, leaving the man shaking in fear.