Chapter 8 No turning Back

She rushed home, her heartbeat matching the frantic pace of her footsteps as she made her way to her parents' bedroom. Without hesitation, she grabbed a suitcase and began pulling out her father's clothes, folding each item with mechanical precision. She was midway through packing when the door creaked open.

Her father stood there, his gaze filled with quiet confusion.

She spared him only a brief glance before turning back to the closet, carefully unhooking the neatly hung clothes. One by one, she laid them on the bed, folding them with the same care she had seen her mother do so many times before.

"Are we leaving?" His voice was laced with uncertainty.

A sharp pain stabbed at her chest, but she forced herself to stay composed. "Only you, Pa," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn't look at him.

"H-Huh?" His brows furrowed. "But I have nowhere to go."

She swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in her throat. When she finally turned to face him, she held his gaze, even as unshed tears burned the corners of her eyes.

"You'll stay in Ilocos for now. I already spoke to aunt Betty. I booked your flight-it's at six tonight," she said, her tone steady despite the turmoil within.

Her father didn't respond. He simply sat at the edge of the bed, watching her in silence.

She wished she could let him stay. She wished she could pretend that everything was fine. But it wasn't. And she didn't know how to face him once she sold herself. She couldn't promise she wouldn't resent him for it, and she didn't want that. No matter how flawed he was, she loved him.

The contract was already signed-one year as a paid woman. She had negotiated an advance for a single night and arranged to keep half of her earnings. Survival was her only option. As long as she was breathing, she wouldn't give up.

She had wired half of the money to Aunt Betty and instructed her to send a monthly allowance for her father.

She would pay off their debts. She would save. This was the price she had to pay.

At the airport, her father wept as he held her in a tight embrace. She clenched her jaw, her entire body trembling with the effort of keeping herself together. This was the first time they would be apart. And it was by her choice.

The moment he disappeared from sight, she let the dam break.

Now, she was truly alone.

A cold, paralyzing fear crept into her bones.

Fear of what awaited her.

She returned home, moving on autopilot as she stripped out of her clothes and stepped into the shower. The warm water cascaded over her skin, but it did nothing to wash away the dread curling inside her.

After drying off, she slipped into a forest green skater dress, its backless design revealing the smooth expanse of her spine. It had been years since she wore anything like this-since before her mother passed away.

She applied makeup, keeping it natural, then spritzed the last few drops of her Victoria's Secret perfume.

No jewelry, except for a pair of simple stud earrings and the delicate watch her mother had given her. She blow-dried her hair, letting it fall in soft waves around her shoulders.

She stared at her reflection. A bitter smile ghosted her lips.

Tonight, she would lose her virginity.

Tonight, she would become something else.

She could only hope her first client wouldn't be too old. Maybe he'd be attractive. Maybe he'd smell nice. At least then, she wouldn't feel like she was losing everything.

"I should've charged extra since it's my first time," she muttered, forcing out a dry laugh.

A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she hurriedly dabbed it away with a tissue. Tilting her head back, she blinked rapidly, forcing back the rest. She couldn't cry. Not now. Her makeup would smudge.

She inhaled sharply. Exhaled.

"I can do this. I will do this!" she declared, pumping her fists into the air before shaking her hips in an exaggerated wiggle.

It was a pathetic attempt at easing the crushing weight inside her chest, but she had to keep herself from breaking. If she broke now, she'd never be able to put herself back together.

She grabbed her purse, slipped her phone inside, and stepped out of the room.

There was no turning back.

She had a job to do.