His Personal (Lover) Assistant
Don't Deserve This
The trip to the rehab center was not nearly as bad as I expected it to be. Ainsley mostly slept, worn out from her previous hysterical fit, and I drove on the interstate, listening to music softly, and thinking about everything that had happened in the past week. It was a lot to contemplate with.
I had though Gerard liked me. But then again, I had thought I was only with him to be with someone. And I guess, in the end, we were both wrong. But I was praying, wishing, that what we’d done—split away, was for the best. It was. He had Sophia, and I had…I’d find somebody. I would. I would find somebody, and look past everything that had happened.
Maybe I should quit. Maybe it would be better if we never see one another’s faces again. Even if it meant going back to living off nothing, all my life. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much then, because I wouldn’t have to see those caramel eyes all the time. And he wouldn’t have to worry about anything ever being exposed.
“What’re you thinking about?” Ainsley yawned, and I snapped out of my thoughts, turning my head to look at her.
“Finally up Sleeping Beauty?” I smirked. She rolled her eyes at me, and nodded, before turning the radio down the whole way.
“You never answered my question you know,” She said, looking at me. Her blue eyes shone brightly, and I sighed.
“About…everything. Gerard. Mom. Your Dad’s wedding, if I should quit.” She looked at me wide-eyed with the last statement, and shook her head fiercely.
“Frankie, listen to me. You have everything going good right now—or, well, except for the whole, ‘Love thing.’—you can’t just drop it because of him. You can pull through this, you said so yourself back at your apartment.”
I smiled at her mini-lecture, and nodded. “Maybe I can,” I whispered. She grinned, and patted my knee, before turning the music back up—louder, and singing along to it, staring out the window. The rest of the ride went by in silence. Besides some serious music going through the speakers.
“My baby’s!” My mother squealed as we walked through the door of the rehab center. She threw her arms around us, kissing our cheeks frantically. “Mi Famiglia! My sweethearts!” She kept repeating.
On top of rehab, I think she might need put into the looney bin. “Mom, can’t breathe!” I whined, and she pulled back, grinning.
“Come on dears, I’ll show you to my room, and we can talk and get some coffee from the cafeteria, yes?” She asked, pulling us along the hallway eagerly, as I whined softly, and Ainsley grinned at my mother’s cheeriness.
She reached her room, opened the door, and turned on the lights. For being a rehab, it was actually a pretty comfortable looking room, with a red couch in the far corner, a bed in the other, a desk against one wall, and a TV on the other. “We don’t really watch much TV,” She told me, gesturing to sit down. “It was basically for when I was detoxing and couldn’t do anything better.”
“Oh…” I trailed off, and Ainsley nudged me, as if to say something more.
But what could I say to her? Here was my mother, who had been a drunk all my life, and longer, and now she was clean? I’d never known her to be anything but drenched in alcohol, and smelling of sex and cigarettes. So, how could I say anything meaningful, now, after twenty-five years? “So, Mom,” Ainsley finally cleared her throat, glaring at me. “How is everything?”
“It’s comfortable right now, Ainsley,” She smiled at her. “I’m sober, I’m talking to a therapist, and I’m making changes in my life. It’s all so…miraculous.”
“There’s no such things as miracles,” I said, smiling. “You made it happen Ma.”
“Yes,” She smiled weakly, placing her hand over mine. “But, Frankie darling, if it hadn’t been for you, I never would’ve done it, you know?” Ainsley looked at me, confused, and I looked down at my feet, my face growing red.
“S’not true Ma,” I mumbled. She laughed, and hugged me again, kissing my forehead.
“Baby, you were always so down to earth, doing good for others. Any man or woman should be ecstatic to be with you. You deserve the world, Frankie dear.”
All at once, a rush of emotions hit me like a brick wall, and I felt tears well up in my eyes again. My mother was so proud of me, so proud of me. What if she knew I was just some whore? Some idiot, who let his boss sleep with him? What would she say then? Would she believe I deserved the world after that?
“N-No I don’t,” I stuttered out helplessly, but she kept that proud smile on her face, and laughed, shaking her head, as Ainsley looked at me, concerned.
I deserve nothing.
I had though Gerard liked me. But then again, I had thought I was only with him to be with someone. And I guess, in the end, we were both wrong. But I was praying, wishing, that what we’d done—split away, was for the best. It was. He had Sophia, and I had…I’d find somebody. I would. I would find somebody, and look past everything that had happened.
Maybe I should quit. Maybe it would be better if we never see one another’s faces again. Even if it meant going back to living off nothing, all my life. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much then, because I wouldn’t have to see those caramel eyes all the time. And he wouldn’t have to worry about anything ever being exposed.
“What’re you thinking about?” Ainsley yawned, and I snapped out of my thoughts, turning my head to look at her.
“Finally up Sleeping Beauty?” I smirked. She rolled her eyes at me, and nodded, before turning the radio down the whole way.
“You never answered my question you know,” She said, looking at me. Her blue eyes shone brightly, and I sighed.
“About…everything. Gerard. Mom. Your Dad’s wedding, if I should quit.” She looked at me wide-eyed with the last statement, and shook her head fiercely.
“Frankie, listen to me. You have everything going good right now—or, well, except for the whole, ‘Love thing.’—you can’t just drop it because of him. You can pull through this, you said so yourself back at your apartment.”
I smiled at her mini-lecture, and nodded. “Maybe I can,” I whispered. She grinned, and patted my knee, before turning the music back up—louder, and singing along to it, staring out the window. The rest of the ride went by in silence. Besides some serious music going through the speakers.
“My baby’s!” My mother squealed as we walked through the door of the rehab center. She threw her arms around us, kissing our cheeks frantically. “Mi Famiglia! My sweethearts!” She kept repeating.
On top of rehab, I think she might need put into the looney bin. “Mom, can’t breathe!” I whined, and she pulled back, grinning.
“Come on dears, I’ll show you to my room, and we can talk and get some coffee from the cafeteria, yes?” She asked, pulling us along the hallway eagerly, as I whined softly, and Ainsley grinned at my mother’s cheeriness.
She reached her room, opened the door, and turned on the lights. For being a rehab, it was actually a pretty comfortable looking room, with a red couch in the far corner, a bed in the other, a desk against one wall, and a TV on the other. “We don’t really watch much TV,” She told me, gesturing to sit down. “It was basically for when I was detoxing and couldn’t do anything better.”
“Oh…” I trailed off, and Ainsley nudged me, as if to say something more.
But what could I say to her? Here was my mother, who had been a drunk all my life, and longer, and now she was clean? I’d never known her to be anything but drenched in alcohol, and smelling of sex and cigarettes. So, how could I say anything meaningful, now, after twenty-five years? “So, Mom,” Ainsley finally cleared her throat, glaring at me. “How is everything?”
“It’s comfortable right now, Ainsley,” She smiled at her. “I’m sober, I’m talking to a therapist, and I’m making changes in my life. It’s all so…miraculous.”
“There’s no such things as miracles,” I said, smiling. “You made it happen Ma.”
“Yes,” She smiled weakly, placing her hand over mine. “But, Frankie darling, if it hadn’t been for you, I never would’ve done it, you know?” Ainsley looked at me, confused, and I looked down at my feet, my face growing red.
“S’not true Ma,” I mumbled. She laughed, and hugged me again, kissing my forehead.
“Baby, you were always so down to earth, doing good for others. Any man or woman should be ecstatic to be with you. You deserve the world, Frankie dear.”
All at once, a rush of emotions hit me like a brick wall, and I felt tears well up in my eyes again. My mother was so proud of me, so proud of me. What if she knew I was just some whore? Some idiot, who let his boss sleep with him? What would she say then? Would she believe I deserved the world after that?
“N-No I don’t,” I stuttered out helplessly, but she kept that proud smile on her face, and laughed, shaking her head, as Ainsley looked at me, concerned.
I deserve nothing.