When I returned to Keith's house feeling disheartened, his parents were still awake. As soon as Camilla saw me, she let out a cold scoff. "Six years and you're still such a useless thing. My poor son."
"Enough! Don't say any more," Charles said as he pulled her away, but I could still hear the disdain in her voice.
I shut the door to my room and gently traced the edges of my parents' photo. Perhaps it was the cool night breeze, but tears began to fall. "Mom, Dad, I don't want anything. I just … I just want a home, I whispered."
I sat on the floor the entire night, waiting. Unfortunately, Keith didn't come back. Instead, I woke up to see the paparazzi's photo of Keith kissing a woman.
When he returned in the morning, his explanation was casual. "A kiss? Zoey, you believe such things? I was merely helping a woman who had fallen."
His excuse was weak, but I forced myself to believe it. After all, Keith had been kind to me for six years. He wouldn't betray me, would he?
Looking back now, the fact that he didn't love me was so obvious, yet I had never seen it.