Trigger

Trigger
Amanda's POV

At Mike's House

The first thing I felt was cold air on my skin.

I reached out for Mike, expecting to feel his arm around my waist, the way it usually was when he stayed the night in my room. But my hand touched nothing but just the empty side of the bed. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking at the quiet room. His side of the bed was already cold.

He must have left early for work.

A small smile formed on my lips. At least last night wasn’t a waste. I got what I wanted. He had been slipping away from me all week, distant, quiet, acting like I wasn’t even there. But last night… Last night he gave in.

I smiled to myself, recalling last night.

Flaskback

“Come here", I whispered.

He didn't move at first. He just stood there breathing, confused, angry, frustrated... but still looking at me. Then finally, he took a step forward. Then another.

I reached to him, touching his shirt, pulling him closer. He didn't pull away. His hands hovered for a moment like he was fighting himself, like he was thinking about something... or someone else.

But then he gave in.

He kissed me. Rough at first. Then softer. Then deeper.

And for the first time in days, he stopped thinking.

For the first time in days, he wanted me again.



I pushed the blanket off my body and stretched. My whole body felt loose, satisfied. If Diane thought she could just show up on TV, glowing and pregnant, and shake me, she was mistaken. And yes, I had found out about the whole TV and interview thing through Mike’s watch history. He had no idea I cloned his phone. Poor Mike. Anyway, he was still mine. He came home to me. He stayed in my bed. He touched me.

She might be pregnant for that billionaire now, but she was still trying to ruin what I had. I could feel it. And I needed to get her out of the way, and for good. Mike belonged to me, not her. I know I shouldn’t feel threatened by her, especially because I was pregnant with Mike’s child. I mean, pregnancy was supposed to hold him down right? But I just couldn’t help but feel uneasy about it.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I groaned. I was too tired to take any call this early, but it wouldn’t stop ringing. I grabbed it, squinted at the screen, and dragged myself off the bed.

I walked into the bathroom. The room was connected to the bedroom… one part toilet, one part shower space. I shut the door behind me with my elbow as I answered the call.

“Hello,” I said, sounding half-asleep.

“Amanda! Finally!” my mother’s voice shouted through the phone.

I closed my eyes. Of course. It had to be her.

“I’ve been busy,” I said, opening the tap to wash my face.

“Busy?” She scoffed. “With what? You don’t even call me anymore.”

“I said I’ve been busy with work.”

“Lies,” she said quickly. “Since when do you work? You already have Mike. You’re supposed to be enjoying life, not pretending you have things to do.”

I gripped the sink harder. She always did this. Always talked like she was the one suffering.

“What do you want?” I asked quietly.

She took a deep breath. “Money. And not small money this time. I need to sort out some things immediately.”

I almost laughed. Of course she needed money. What else?

“I don’t have any money right now,” I said.

“Stop lying to me,” she snapped. 

“What happened to what you sent last week? And the week before? And the week before that? I send you money every time for fuck sake,” I said, irritation rising. “What are you using it for? You don’t save. You don’t invest. You don’t even buy anything useful. You just party around with your friends like you’re twenty.”

“I raised you, didn’t I?” she fired back. “I worked myself to the bone so you could live well. It’s my time to enjoy myself. Isn’t that what you always say?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I used to believe that. But these days, everything annoyed me. My savings were gone. My account balance kept shrinking. And she was still demanding more.

“I don’t have money,” I repeated slowly.

There was silence for a moment. Then her voice dropped, cold and daring.

“Is this how you pay me back? After everything? After I helped you get Mike? After I helped you take him from that stupid stepsister of yours?”

My chest tightened. She always did this. She always brought up Diane like she expected me to clap for her. It’s not like she would have done that if she wasn’t going to benefit from it.

“You needed a push,” she continued. “And I gave it to you. Now you’re acting like you don’t owe me anything. I need money, Amanda. Send it. I need it urgently, and don’t make me regret helping you.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I ended the call.

Just like that.

No goodbye. No explanation. Nothing.

I sat on the toilet to pee, breathing slowly, trying to calm myself. She always managed to ruin my mood. Always. And now, on top of everything, Diane was back in the picture, shining and glowing like she didn’t destroy my life first.

I flushed, washed my hands, and left the bathroom.

I tossed the phone on the bed and headed to the door. I needed food. I needed to get ready for work. I needed to get my mind straight.

Just as I reached for the doorknob, the phone rang again.

I froze.

Not again.

I closed my eyes and ignored it, ready to shut the door behind me. But it rang the second time… then the third… louder… faster.

With an irritated sigh, I walked back and picked it up. I prayed it wasn’t my mother again. I wasn’t ready for another fight.

I checked the screen.

It was him.

I hesitated… then answered.

“Hello?”

The man’s voice came from the other end… smooth, low, familiar as usual.

“Hi, baby,” he said softly. “I’ve missed you so much. When are we seeing?”