Love Turned to Tragedy

The warmth in my arms felt so real; in that moment, I truly felt loved.

When I was eight, my father passed away. My mother looked at me with tears in her eyes for what felt like forever before she abandoned me at the orphanage. From that day on, I became sensitive and withdrawn.

It wasn't until high school that I met Angela. Like me, she lost her father when she was young, so she understood my pain. We became each other's safe haven, warming each other's hearts, and eventually got accepted into the same university.

Before long, we were a couple. Life was simple and beautiful until a year ago when Angela's mother fell seriously ill and needed a hefty sum for treatment. Watching Angela break down, I pulled out all the cash I had saved from my part-time jobs--only ten thousand dollars.

As a junior, it shattered my heart to see her suffering, but I felt utterly helpless. So, when Angela hesitantly mentioned that other women were interested in me and asked if I could spend time with them, I agreed without thinking twice.

Angela shifted slightly in my arms, pulling me back to reality.

"Samuel, I love you, I really do," she said after a moment, her voice trembling. "But my mom's treatment still needs more money..."

Over the past year, I'd managed to earn quite a bit--tens of thousands--but I hadn't realized it still wasn't enough.

"Are there still women who want to spend time with me?" I asked, playfully ruffling Angela's hair. "I can always earn more."

She looked away, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Yeah, but... she wants you to..."

It took her a moment to continue. "She wants you to sleep with her."

"Did you agree to this?" I asked, taken aback.

Angela clutched my shirt, biting her lip as she nodded.

A whirlwind of emotions crashed over me. I understood it was all for her mother's sake, but I never expected Angela to actually want me to sleep with other women.

"Samuel, are you upset?" Angela asked cautiously, her gaze searching mine as if she could read my thoughts. "I don't want this either, but my mom's treatment costs a fortune every day. The doctor said this last round will help her get better. Please, for my sake, can you just hang in there a little longer?"

I exhaled slowly, forcing a smile. "It's okay, Angela. I'll do it. Just don't worry."

Her eyes brightened as she pulled something from her bag and placed it in my hand. "This is the hotel room key. She wants to meet at nine tonight. Just remember to be on time."

For some reason, her overly eager tone sent a chill down my spine. Holding the room key, I felt a heavy knot in my stomach.

"Okay."

A dark smudge marred Angela's flawless face, and I leaned down, ready to wipe it away. But she turned her head, looking uncomfortable. "Let's just head back to school now."

I was caught off guard, my hand lingering in the air as I managed a resigned smile.

Angela seemed to think I wanted to kiss her.

At nine o'clock, I arrived at the hotel room as promised.

[Ms. Johnson, I'm here.] I sent a message in the new chat.

With fifteen minutes to go until nine, I noticed she hadn't replied. Maybe she hadn't seen my message.

The dim lighting set a sultry tone in the room as I sat on the large bed, feeling the vibrations beneath me, an unsettling sensation settling in my stomach.

Finally, I sighed and stood up.

I had sent Angela several messages, but she had only replied at seven with, [I'm heading to the library], and then nothing more.

Bored out of my mind, I stumbled across Ms. Johnson's Instagram. She didn't post much, and her captions were straightforward--just simple, cheerful messages about being happy.

I was a bit taken aback; I had assumed she was around Ada's age, but she looked like she was a student at our school.

The photos of military training, the grand hall during the opening ceremony, and the library's study area--all of it felt all too familiar.

I wasn't sure if that was good or bad. At least I wouldn't have to juggle an inappropriate relationship with an older woman. But if she was a classmate, those rumors that had fizzled out about "the high-achieving male student selling himself" could easily resurface like weeds.

This time, it could be even more believable and spread even further, especially since I was actually selling myself.

Just then, a message popped up in the chat: "I'm here, open the door."

Sure enough, a few seconds later, there was a knock.

I opened the door to reveal a strikingly beautiful face that radiated confidence.

"Hi, I'm Laura Johnson." The girl, looking about my age, stepped inside with a warm smile and reached out her hand.

I took her fingers lightly, mumbling, "Hi, I'm Samuel Evans."

The purple lights cast a sultry glow around us, creating a palpable tension. Suddenly, Laura tightened her grip on my hand, drawing us closer. My heart raced.

Angela was my first love, and I had always respected her, so this was my first time venturing into something like this. I felt out of my depth, nerves flooding my body.

"Let's go," Laura chirped, tugging me toward the door.

Noticing my shocked expression, she laughed. "What? You thought I was going to, uh..." She glanced at the bed with a teasing smirk.

I quickly shook my head. "No, no, I'm not thinking that. But where are you taking me? My girlfriend said you wanted me to spend the night with you?"

Laura winked at me. "Yeah, I want you to spend the night, but not like that. Just follow me, and you'll see."

Embarrassment washed over me, but my curiosity got the better of me. "If we're going out, why did you want me to wait in the hotel?"

Laura chuckled, saying something I could hardly believe. "I just told Ms. Lambert I wanted to pay a hundred grand for you to keep me company for the night--not to sleep with me. She booked this hotel room without even asking me."