Programmed for Pleasure (Pyschological Romance)

『Chapter 8』

Abel's pov:
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I woke up at 7:35, the room colder than I remembered, or maybe it was because I slept without clothes on. I turned to the other side of the bed, looking for my phone, but I couldn't find it. "Where is it?" I asked myself. I looked everywhere under the bed, between the cabinets, and along the sides of the bed.

I threw one of my pillows to the floor, and there it was. I was so relieved. From my reaction, you would have thought I was a crack addict.

I also looked around for my clothes, but I couldn't find them, so I wrapped myself in a towel I found in the cabinet and got out of the room. I had no idea where I was, but I opened all the doors one by one, looking for Nathaniel.

My plan was to eventually find him once I had opened all the doors. This house is so big that I possibly could have opened more than eleven doors. There was only one door left, at the end of the hallway. It had to be his room. I walked to the door, opened it, and walked in.

The whole room was red from the ceiling to the floor. The bed had red covers and black pillows, and the bed frame was maroon. I got into the room and looked around; it was huge.

The bed was twice the size of the one we had sex on. At the far right side of the room, there was a bathroom. I heard the shower turn off and immediately tried to turn around and get out of the room but was caught just before I could leave.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Ahhh...nowhere."

"Come here." He instructed me

"No... I think I should go home; my roommate might be worried about me."

"I'll drop you off."

Why is he so stubborn? I walk toward him, silently cursing him in my thoughts.

"What do you want?" I say, looking up at him.

"How do you feel today?" he says, looking down at me.

"Better than yesterday. How about you?"

"I'm okay. Who were you talking to last night? I could hear your attempts to whisper through the door," he chuckles.

"I was just talking to my grandmother," I say, acting like it was just a casual conversation when it was the complete opposite.

"Nice. You must miss her. What were you two talking about?"

"Nothing I have to tell you," I say, trying to avoid the question.

"You know I really care about you. I just want to make sure you're okay; you can tell me anything."

"It's nothing serious. My grandmother is old and needs someone to take care of her, but I don't have the money for that. It's seriously nothing; I can pick up a part-time job."

I feel so ashamed. My life is a mess, and here I am telling my biology professor, who I just slept with, how bad my private life is. Do I have no shame?

He wraps his arms around me, basically trapping me, leaving no space for Jesus. I can smell his armpit, and it doesn't smell that bad. To be honest, he's one of the most handsome men I have ever seen. I wonder why he's fooling around with me; I am so out of his league.

He could pick a model, but here he is, hugging a 19-year-old girl in her first year of university, who comes from a foreign country and has mommy, daddy, and family issues. I have never seen someone so good-looking-from his jet-black hair, blue eyes, pale skin, to his Greek-like physique. He could do so much better.

"If you need money, I can lend you some," he proposes.

"No, it's okay; I can take care of myself,"

I say in a low tone but still stand by what I'm saying. I have been by myself my whole life, so I don't need anyone to take care of me now.

"I insist. How are you going to do school and a part-time job at the same time?" he says, trying to convince me otherwise.

"You don't have to worry about me."

"What if I lend you the money? You go to school, get your nursing degree, and then you can pay me back. Wouldn't that work?"

"I don't want to rely on anyone," I continue to insist that I can handle things by myself.

"Just let me help you. You're only 19; you can't do everything by yourself." He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him. Why does he make a good point? I shouldn't have to deal with all of this by myself. And I'm not selling myself; I will pay him back as soon as I get a full-time job.

"Okay, but I'll pay you back as soon as I can," I say.

"Good. You shouldn't be stressed out about such things at a young age. Let me take care of you." He hugs me tightly while sniffing my head.

This isn't a situation I want to be in, but I have no other choice. It won't be long, only three years and this will be over. I'll be able to go on with my life, do what I want to do, and live how I want to live.

It's been three hours since I got back home, and the house is a mess. It smells like alcohol, cabinet doors are broken, a chair is missing from the dining table, and there's a red stain on the white couch. I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack and stroke.

Robin isn't home, so she must be at school. Once I see her, she has a lot to explain.

I knew life would have difficulties, but I didn't expect it to be as hard as it is now. My life has been cursed since I entered this world.

My mom died just before I was born-that should have been the first sign that I was destined for doom. My parents both thought and were told that I was going to be a boy, so they decided to name me Abel. But when I came out, the doctors saw that I was actually a girl. My mom had died long before she could see that I was a girl, and my dad was in shock from everything that had just happened, so he didn't get to see I was a girl either.

The doctors told my dad to choose a girl name, but he still couldn't understand what was going on; he was confused. The doctors just went with my mom's original plan and named me Abel.

You don't know how much I detested this name growing up. I would beg my dad to change it every day. And to add salt to the wound, I also looked like a boy, so I would get bullied relentlessly at school for my looks. Everything about me resembled a boy.

My dad later died when I was thirteen. His cause of death was lung cancer, so since then, I have been living with my grandmother. Life was even worse with her around. I truly think she just kept me around for the child care benefits. She had the shortest temper and would find any excuse to hit me. I remember one time when I forgot to put the leftover food in the fridge, and it spoiled.

The next morning, she called me to the top of the stairs, started yelling at me, and called me names. Then she pushed me back, causing me to fall down the stairs. I ended up with a broken leg and three broken ribs. And that is just one of the worst things she has done.

Thirteen to eighteen were the worst years of my life. My social skills were nonexistent; I barely had any friends. It was never easy talking to people; they would either ignore me or eventually stop hanging out with me. I was also a late bloomer, so I didn't start developing until 17. My grandmother would always insult my looks and compare me to boys. I hate her. She was...no...she is my biggest bully to this day. I have tried to get her out of my life, but I can't. I feel obliged to take care of her; she's the only family I have left, so I can't just leave her behind. But her demands have become more and more, and I'm not sure if I can handle everything by myself.

Nathaniel said he would help me out, so once everything is settled, I will pay him back and move on with my life.

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♡Hi♡I'm finally updated it seems like it's been forever.

Leave a comment about anything. And also vote.

I feel like I'm projecting the hate I have for my grandmother onto Abel's grandma.