✭ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ✭

ᴍᴏᴍ

I woke up on some random sofa in a room I didn't recognize. The light pouring in through the windows told me it was morning, maybe late morning.

My head felt heavy, and my body sore. The couch was soft, but unfamiliar. I rubbed my eyes and looked around, heart pounding in confusion.

In the kitchen, I saw my mom leaning against the counter, whispering with a woman I had never seen before.

They were both smoking thick, gray smoke curling through the air, and the smell hit me hard. It was awful. Sharp and bitter. I wrinkled my nose.

I sat up slowly, still half-asleep. "Mom?" I said, my voice hoarse.

She turned toward me and exhaled some smoke out the side of her mouth. "Good, you're awake," she said gently. She walked over and lifted me into her arms, settling me on her hip like I was still a toddler.

"We need to talk, honey," she added softly.

As she spoke, I peeked over her shoulder. The woman in the kitchen stubbed out her cigarette in the sink and started rinsing her hands.

I looked at her, hoping for a smile  or even a simple "hi." But she didn't say anything. Just turned away like I wasn't even there.

Mom carried me over to the couch and gently set me down. She sat beside me for a moment, eyes heavy and red.

"Honey," she began, brushing some hair out of my face, "after what happened earlier... I can't bring you back home."

My stomach dropped.

"I don't think that would be the safest place for you right now," she continued, her voice trembling. "So... I think you're going to have to stay with your aunt for a while."

I stared at her, frozen. "No way, Mom," I whispered. "Why can't you just be with me?"

Her eyes filled with tears as she bit her lip. "It's a difficult situation, you'll eventually understand when you're older."

I looked away from her, heart pounding in my chest. I didn't want to cry in front of her, not now. Anger bubbled in my chest.

After everything, every fight, every broken promise and now she wanted to let me go?

She stood up slowly. "I'm going to grab some of your clothes from the house," she said, brushing her hands down her pants. "But for now... make yourself at home, okay?"

"Where are you going?" I asked quickly, panic starting to rise.

"I'll be back soon," she said quietly, avoiding eye contact as she headed toward the stairs.

I watched through the window as she walked out the front door, her figure disappearing down the street.

I felt like something inside me cracked. I couldn't believe it. After all the pain, all the yelling, all the times I needed her most this was when she decided to leave?

She could've done this from the start. She could've protected me.

Why now?

I sank deeper into the couch cushions, arms crossed tightly over my chest. I wanted to scream. But I didn't. I just sat there, watching the woman from earlier step into the living room.

She was... pretty. Not in the way regular people were, but like someone I'd see on TV, one of those fancy supermodels with perfect hair and kind eyes.

I didn't know her name, but I secretly hoped she would turn out different from my mom. Kinder. Safer.

"Are you hungry?" she asked with a warm smile, her voice soft and light.

I nodded. "Yes."

"Come on then, let's get you something to eat," she said, kneeling down in front of the couch. She reached out her hand, and I took it, slowly standing up and following her into the kitchen.

She grabbed a plate from the cupboard and poured me a glass of apple juice. Then, she turned around holding a pan of pasta.

"I hope you like it," she said sweetly. "I cooked it before you arrived."

She smiled again and set the pan aside in the sink.

"Thank you," I said quietly, settling down at the table and beginning to eat. It tasted warm, buttery, and surprisingly good. Better than anything I'd had in a while.

After a moment, she returned and sat down beside me. Her presence felt calm.

"So," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "what's your name? And how old are you?"

She reached over and gently cupped my cheek, her hand cool and soft as she rubbed it gently. It was the kind of touch I hadn't felt in a long time.

"I'm Y/N Jolie... and I'm nine years old," I replied.

Her face lit up. "Wow, that's nice to know. I'm Sofia Vergara but you can call me anything you like, honey."

She clapped her hands together in excitement. "I hope you get comfortable soon, because we already have some fun plans to do."

I smiled. Just a small one as I continued eating. For the first time in a long while, something inside me felt okay. Not perfect. Not fixed. But maybe... maybe this was a better decision after all.

And maybe, just maybe, I could finally breathe.

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❀  ꜱᴏꜰÍᴀ ᴠᴇʀɢᴀʀᴀ ❀