37 días

37 días

marissa_inserra · Ongoing · 52.2k Words

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Introduction

Millie está atrapada entre su antigua vida y la nueva. Se quedó en un apartamento para estar cerca de su padre drogadicto hasta que falleció. Aunque está devastada por el fallecimiento de su padre, ha encontrado una nueva libertad. Está dejando atrás su antigua vida en San Diego y ahora busca un trabajo en Los Ángeles, donde tendrá un nuevo comienzo, una carrera y un nuevo apartamento. El único problema es que hay 37 días entre su antiguo contrato de arrendamiento y el nuevo. Steph, la mejor amiga de Millie, le ofrece un lugar para quedarse con ella, todo va bien hasta que descubra la verdad sobre dónde se hospeda realmente. La mansión, anteriormente un hotel, es propiedad de presuntos traficantes de drogas con los que no hay que meterse. Millie se enamora de uno de ellos, lo que genera muchos problemas. ¿Será lo suficientemente fuerte como para manejar los desafíos futuros que vienen con su nuevo interés amoroso?

Chapter 1

Es viernes por la mañana.

El último día en mi apartamento de San Diego en el que he pasado el último año. Déjame reformular eso, el último año de mierda. Pasé el último año poniendo mi vida y carrera en pausa para estar cerca de la casa de mis padres cuidando de mi padre. En los últimos tres años, él se gastó todos los ahorros de él y de mi mamá en alcohol y drogas y terminó perdiendo la casa.

Ni siquiera sé por qué me molesté, él odiaba verme y después de todos mis esfuerzos, terminó suicidándose con heroína. Pero no siempre fue así. Una vez fui "la niña de papá", él me adoraba, era un padre y esposo increíble hasta hace tres años cuando todo cambió.

El zumbido de mi teléfono en el bolsillo trasero de mis jeans me saca de mis pensamientos. La pantalla del teléfono muestra el nombre Steph. Mi mejor amiga desde hace quince años. Contesto en el segundo timbre.

—¡Hola Steph! Estoy empacando un par de cosas más y estaré en camino—. Puede que haya mentido un poco.

Tengo mucho más que un par de cosas por empacar, me desperté más tarde de lo que quería, presionando el botón de repetición al menos tres veces antes de levantarme de la cama. Anoche fue mi último turno en 'Ricks Restaurant' y los otros miembros del personal me organizaron una fiesta de despedida después de cerrar. Bebí demasiado, de ahí el despertar tarde. Me siento como una mierda ahora, pero nada que un gran vaso de agua y un ibuprofeno no puedan arreglar. No soy una gran bebedora, pero definitivamente no es mi primera resaca.

Ella responde con dulzura—. ¡Pues apúrate, perra! ¡No he visto a mi chica en meses! Y si no recuerdo mal, fue tu cumpleaños número 26 la semana pasada, lo que significa que vamos a celebrar esta noche—. No, no, no.

Respondo—. Ummm sí, lo recordaste bien porque me enviaste un mensaje en mi cumpleaños, ¿y buen intento, pero no vamos a celebrar esta noche. Ya estoy lidiando con una resaca y solo quiero ponerme al día con el sueño cuando llegue—. Ella gruñe a través de la línea y sé que está poniendo los ojos en blanco—. Está bien. Te dejaré recuperarte cuando llegues, pero no aceptaré un no por respuesta para la fiesta de mañana. Ahora apúrate para que pueda ver tu hermosa cara. Te enviaré el código de acceso para la puerta principal. ¡Te quiero, adiós!—. Cuelga antes de que tenga la oportunidad de responder a todo eso.

Sé lo que está tratando de hacer, pero simplemente ya no me interesan todas esas fiestas. Claro, cuando tenía mis últimos años de adolescencia y principios de los veinte, tuve mi buena dosis de fiestas, pero ya no es lo mío como solía ser.

En los últimos años, he pasado de ser extrovertida a más introvertida. Supongo que hacer de padre para mi papá me hizo eso. De alguna manera, cambiamos de lugar. En más de una ocasión, tuve que subirme a mi coche tarde en la noche, conduciendo por zonas peligrosas de la ciudad buscándolo de bar en bar, siendo acosada por borrachos. Una vez, mi papá incluso me ofreció a su "amigo" a cambio de drogas. Me negué a que eso sucediera, me fui inmediatamente y sin él, llegó a ese punto. Lo convencí de ingresar a varios centros de rehabilitación solo para llegar días después y encontrar que se había dado de alta y se había ido como de costumbre. Me convertí en su madre, preocupándome constantemente por él, preguntándome si estaba muerto o vivo hasta que un día mis peores temores se hicieron realidad. Fue encontrado en un callejón con una aguja en el brazo por la policía hace dos meses. De alguna manera, fue agridulce tener esta sensación de libertad nuevamente y, por supuesto, por otro lado, estaba destrozada porque perdí a mi papá, no al hombre que fue poseído por algún demonio en los últimos tres años, sino al papá que conocía antes de eso. Siempre había esperado que un día simplemente despertara y quisiera cambiar. Cambiar por mí o cambiar por él, solo cambiar. Eso es todo lo que era, esperanza y en realidad estaba tan metido en su adicción que simplemente se volvió sin esperanza.

Termino de empacar mis maletas y me miro por última vez en el espejo antes de emprender mi viaje de dos horas a Los Ángeles. Mi largo cabello castaño está recogido en un moño desordenado que, por algún milagro, no se ve tan mal hoy porque muestra algunos de mis reflejos finos. No es mi look habitual, pero no tengo la energía para arreglarme esta mañana. Me echo la mochila negra al hombro y me dirijo al ascensor, asegurándome de no mirar atrás al apartamento 307.

...

Salgo del ascensor apresuradamente en cuanto se abre en la planta baja. Saco las llaves del coche del bolsillo lateral de mi mochila colgada del hombro. Hoy hace sol y una brisa cálida. Normalmente, me encanta un día así, pero el sol me da directamente en los ojos, cegándome. Me cubro los ojos para protegerme antes de que el dolor de cabeza empeore.

Es principios de mayo y parece que todo el mundo quiere estar fuera. Veo al Sr. Daniels en el estacionamiento, sosteniendo la mano de su hija de seis años, Isabella, mientras se dirigen hacia mí. Me he encariñado mucho con los dos en el último año. La Sra. Daniels falleció hace un par de años de cáncer, dejándolos solo a ellos dos. Los saludo con abrazos antes de llegar a mi coche. El Sr. Daniels entrecierra sus ojos marrones oscuros. Claramente, el sol quiere compartir el dolor con los demás hoy.

—Te vamos a extrañar, Millie. Por favor, vuelve a visitarnos—. Respondo con una mentira —Claro que sí—. Nunca volveré aquí, lo siento.

La pequeña Isabella se agarra a mi pierna para otro abrazo. Es una niña tan dulce, muy madura para tener solo seis años. Es tan inteligente y hermosa, con ojos como los de su papá. Su cabello casi negro le llega a los hombros y se echa un mechón detrás de la oreja mirándome. Abre la boca para hablar, pero empieza a llorar en su lugar. Me arrodillo a su nivel.

—¡Oh, cariño, ¿qué pasa?!— pregunto. Ella explica que me va a extrañar mucho y realmente espera que vuelva a verlos.

Mierda.

Realmente tengo que volver. No soy un monstruo y no puedo mentirle a esta pequeña en la cara. —Lo prometo— digo. Sus ojos se iluminan de nuevo porque sabe que soy una tonta para cumplir mis promesas. Nos abrazamos de nuevo mientras el Sr. Daniels me dice que conduzca con cuidado y que si alguna vez necesito algo, está a solo una llamada de distancia, lo cual aprecio más de lo que él sabe. Se alejan, dirigiéndose a la entrada del edificio del que acabo de salir.

Continúo mi camino hacia mi Acura gris oscuro. Desbloqueo las puertas y me dejo caer en el asiento del conductor. Inmediatamente saco mis gafas de sol y me las pongo porque realmente no tengo ganas de morir hoy por culpa del sol robándome la visión. Tecleo la dirección de donde vive Steph, enciendo el motor y salgo de mi lugar de estacionamiento designado.

—Aquí vamos— murmuro para mí misma.

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