ONE NIGHT

Chapter 3 | Cash

"Your clothes."

I sigh, quietly, and I take off every fabric that I wear to get completely naked and leave my clothes on the sofa so that he can check them entirely. Once I do not have a single piece of clothing on me, I hold my hands in the front of my body, and I stare down at the ground, never feeling comfortable in this situation that happens every night.

The silence remaining in the room, I do not panic while he is checking the clothes and their pockets like I did the first time it happened and that I knew I was hiding the tip a client left me.

"Your shoes," he tells me, dropping what he made sure to be empty. With a lot of struggle and pain, I take my high heels off and reveal my feet covered in injuries and blood that never stops oozing from the wounds. I put them down, but when my feet gets into contact with the floor, I clench my hands into fists to not let a hint of suffering appear.

He grabs them and nearly scans even corner, making sure I have not learnt to find a good way to hide cash. I take a peek at him, wondering what he is thinking about, but he looks down at my feet.

He does not say anything about how pitiful they look but puts my high heels down. "Put your clothes back on and go get changed, I'll wait for you in the car," he walks around his desk and takes hold of his jacket, so I put everything back on to not have to be naked anymore, and I get out of the room without the shoes on, meaning I have to walk on my tiptoes through the whole nightclub to get to the changing room.

In a short minute, I get there, so I open the door without saying a word, the other girls chatting with each other. I do not pay attention to them the same way they do it to me, and I move towards the closet to take my clothes and wear those that are way more comfortable.

I do not take my makeup off here but only put a pair of socks on, my Nikes on, and I get hold of my bag to go out. While heading out, I look for a hair tie, and I tie my hair up into a bun, feeling worn out. I look for Gael, my boyfriend's car, and I join him inside.

He does not say anything but listen to the radio, so I buckle my seatbelt on, and he starts the car to leave and drive towards his house.

20 minutes later...

The front door of the house now opened, he goes in, so I follow him and close the door. I take my jacket and shoes off, and he drops his keys on the dining table on the right, talking to the babysitter who is about to leave now that we are here. The night only starting for me, I do not look for anything to eat but move towards my three, soon four years old baby boy.

I thank the babysitter for taking care of him, and she bows to me, before heading to the door, so I squat down to the level of Luca, and he jumps onto me. "Mommy," his small voice melts my heart, erasing all the worries and problems I had to deal with today. I smile and squeeze him in an embrace. "My baby, mommy missed you so much," I press a kiss on his chubby cheek and rub his back to give him all the attention and love he deserves.

"Why isn't he in bed already?" Gael complains as soon as the babysitter has left, but I ignore him. I pick Luca up in my arms. "I wanted to see mommy..." he replies to him in one of the most heartbreaking manner, not knowing what his own father thinks of him.

"But she was working, you can't-"

"Stop, please," I beg him to put an end to it, gazing at him and praying for him to not continue. I wish he would love him like a father has to, but he does not even care about him at all. He never did. He only cares about himself and his satisfaction. He does not even ask me how I am feeling anymore. He noticed how badly injured my feet are, but he did not even show any care. Probably because he knows this is caused by him since he is the one forcing me to wear those high heels every day and not wear band-aids or anything that he calls 'inelegant'.