Eve's Obsession

(Eve's POV)

‘I want to reset my life. Please, can somebody push that button?’

I groaned, wincing at the bright light when my expected guest turned on the switch. I immediately pulled the old, worn-out blanket and covered my face.

“Reset? Where’s the button, Eve Bennet, and I will.” Bethany sneered, grasping the edge of the blanket and tugging it towards her.

Bethany Bennett, my chirpy and goddess-looking best friend, beamed like the sun in her flouncy, off-shoulder yellow floral dress, contrasting my black pair of silk sleepwear, and like my blanket, it was old but comfortable.

I grumbled, clutching the sheet and pulling it back to my chest as if it were the last thing that tied my sanity to me. I must have said my wish aloud when she entered the main bedroom.

“Why are you still in bed?” Her eyes grew wider as she crossed her arms over her chest.

I bet the sun wasn’t up yet because the bright light would usually spill through the window and cast a warm glow over everything. The humming of the electric fan, the soft rustle of the papers on the side table, and the clanking of her heels were the only sounds that broke the stillness of the room.

“Because I have no money. I need money… Lots and lots of money,” I sniffled pathetically, curving my lips into a downturn and tossing the blanket away, reaching the old model of my Samsung phone on the side table.

Bethany rolled her eyes and turned her back on me.

“Yeah, yeah! You’ll have your millions when you stay in bed all day. If you desperately need it, why turn down my offer a million times?”

‘Because I had borrowed much from you!’ I sighed, pressing my dry lips tightly, afraid I might say the words out loud again.

Bethany and Marga were my lifeline in case of emergency, but recently, I was reluctant to turn to them for financial support. Marga got married last year and is now two months pregnant, while Bethany is saving money because she plans to pursue her fashion design studies in Italy.

Besides, I could not decide which of my problems was more urgent. They seemed all needed to be addressed. Whenever I had money, something always came up. My two best friends always tell me they understand and say I can pay when I have extra. I wondered when that time would come. Will it ever come?

As if on a catwalk, Bethany walked toward the closet.

My ears twitched at the clanking of her high-heeled shoes as she entered the closet. I raised my eyebrows and leaned to the side to see what my best friend was up to. I saw her picking through my old clothes from the open door and disappointedly taking them from the rack individually.

“These are… awful! When did you last buy a dress?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder. “Have you packed them already? Are these for donation?” She clucked her tongue. “Who would want this?”

“I have nothing to pack,” I answered lazily and murmured, “That’s all I have, and I’m leaving them behind.”

I sniffled, wallowing in self-pity as I hardly remember the last time I bought decent clothes for myself. The new pair of underwear I planned to wear later was her gift to me on my birthday.

“Eve, wake up!” She demanded, thinking I had gone back to bed because I did not answer.

“I’m awake!” I frowned but gasped, cursing inwardly when I saw the time on my cell phone. “Shit! Why didn’t you tell me it’s already six?” Where did the sun go?

Freaking out, I jumped out of bed, remembering I had five children who were probably hungry by now.

“Oh, God, breakfast,” I muttered in a panic as I looked for my slippers. My heart battering my chest wasn’t helping.

“Relax, Eve. I brought breakfast. Your little mini-mes are probably having them now,” she peered at the doorway, informing me and smiling proudly at herself. “You know what, I’m lending you mine,” she decided. “Are you still bringing these?” 

“Bring what?” I pretended not to know, although I knew she was referring to the box of my self-help and personal growth books.

She pushed the box outside the closet. “This. Why don’t you just donate them?”

I pouted my full lips and shook my head. “Na-ah! I need them.”

“Why keep them when you don’t follow their advice? One book is enough.” Her eyebrows arched as she waited for my answer.

“Leave my books alone, Bethany,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

If only Bethany knew my struggle last night. Whether I would keep the books or just donate them to the library was a battle, but I couldn’t do the latter because I still hoped those self-help books would give me the right formula to improve my life.

“Fine! Just please get into the shower. We must get to this Moira’s place, whoever she is, and then be at the hotel by three. The event’s starting at seven,” Bethany informed, disappearing from the doorway again.

Bethany used to work as a Store Sales and Operations Manager at Sarah’s Sweet Beauty, a global clothing, lingerie, and beauty retailer company, but she was pirated by Bob, her gay friend, who asked her to join their company. She now worked as Marketing Manager at Secret Temptation, a new business offering the same product and a promising competitor of Sarah’s in the future.

Since she knew I would turn down her offer to lend or give me money, she asked me to help her at their event later tonight and promised to introduce me to Bob. If lucky, I might get the sales representative job.

“Move, Eve!” She yelled, her eyebrows raised as she peered at the door again. “We have plenty of stuff on our plates today.”

“I’m moving. See?” I hissed, grabbing the table calendar on the side table and squinting at the encircled date.

It was the 25th of October. I sighed, glancing at my bills as if they were waving at me and reminding me of their due dates. Curling my lips, I returned the calendar and headed to the bathroom but halted, turning around before entering the small room.

My brows furrowed, and my lips pursed as I paused, wondering if asking her about the payment was okay. I was desperate, very desperate for money. Borrowing again for the nth time would be my last resort.

My late husband’s cousin, Moira, suddenly popped out from somewhere and offered her home, but I had to look after her property in return. She was hopeful we could stay at her house because she would be traveling with her boyfriend for a year or two. Although I would not worry about the monthly rent and the bills, I didn’t want my children to stay there without anything to use for our expenses.

We had to eat. We had needs. My children had to go to school.

“Umm… Bethany, you think they’ll pay me after the party?” Heat crept down my cheeks as I asked my best friend.

She leaned on the doorframe, nodding at me.

“I’ll make sure of that. If not, do what the other desperate models are doing.” She grinned and waggled her eyebrows naughtily.

My eyes widened, waiting to know if there was a secret temptation in Secret Temptation.

She giggled, raising her hand and invisibly counting money with her fingers. “I heard rumors that if you can quench the thirst of those hot-to-trot men, then the price is right. You get paid right away.”

“You mean…” My eyes grew wider, although I could not imagine selling myself for money. Dignity is all I have left.

“Yup,” she said as if understanding what I meant. “Our CEO wants to investigate this matter, though. He finds it…” She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes as she thought of the word. “Inappropriate.”

“I agree,” I nodded briefly.

“Maybe it’s your chance to get laid again. When was the last time you had sex?” She chuckled, walking back to the closet room.

She knew I didn’t need to answer her question. My husband had been dead for six years. My youngest daughter is turning seven, and the last time we had it, Isabella was two months in my belly. When Marcus found out I was pregnant, he did not dare touch me again.

“I don’t need it to live,” I sneered, leering at her even if she could not see me.

“I’ll tell you when you don’t get paid so I can point out where you can go later,” she joked, walking out and pulling my luggage out. “Don’t you miss it?”

“The toy you gave me satisfies me well,” I lied, not telling her I had used it once; then, I felt pathetic and ashamed of using it, so I threw it. “You just said it. Your boss is investigating the issue. He must be a boss with good morals.”

“Nope! I assure you he’s an asshole.” Bethany raised her head and stared at the ceiling. “He’s a bit weird, though. He used to change his girlfriend more than the number of times he changed his clothes, but when his wife died, he was worse than a priest who vowed celibacy. Now, everyone in the office thinks he’s gay like Bob.” She narrowed her eyes, looking at me. “And an evil boss.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

“About the pay, you’ll surely get more than working your ass as a library assistant in a month,” Bethany added. “Don’t think about it, please. Just get into the shower and wake up. You know I hate traffic.”

I am wide awake.

In fact, I didn’t get much time to sleep. I blinked at the open window, yearning for a strong tornado to arrive and destroy my side table and shred the papers on top of it. Those papers did nothing good but accelerated my heartbeat and made me age twice. Maybe three times.

I needed money—lots and lots of it.

The piles of letters from the bank, reminding me of the foreclosure of the house, unsettled bills, unopened envelopes of medical bills and results, and letters from my children’s school reminding me of the tuition fees that needed to be paid, pumped much blood to my heart, causing me heartache and headache.

I didn’t feed my problems, but they grew much faster than my children. Last night, I hyperventilated and cried, wondering how I got myself into this situation, unsure how to solve these unsurmountable problems. Who could sleep well when my bills were screaming at me every night?

“Eve, shower?” Bethany reminded again, pointing her index finger to the bathroom door.

“Going!” I mouthed.

“Mom?”

Rosie’s soft voice blinked my tears away, stopping me from entering the bathroom. I turned my head on the closed door, waiting for my daughter to enter. Slowly, the door opened, and Rosie peered her head at the ajar door.

“Yes, sweetheart?” I asked, faking a smile.

My sixteen-year-old daughter noticed the papers on the bed. She bit her lips, narrowed her eyes briefly, and shook her head.

“Never mind, Mom.”

Rosie didn’t need an explanation of what the papers were. The other night, we had a heart-to-heart talk, explaining our situation, showing them the unsettled bills and letters from the bank and school, and telling them about Moira’s offer.

Between her and her twin sister, she understood our situation better. However, I could not blame Jessy for hating me. I could hardly give them what they wanted and fell short of providing for their needs. The house was the only property their father left his children, and I failed to keep it for them. But I tried hard… very, very hard.

“Rosie, what is it? Come in,” I said quickly before she closed the door.

“Cooper’s having another asthma attack… and umm…” She fidgeted her hands, glancing at the letters on the side table again.  “He needs a new spray. Theo’s still complaining of headache,” she sighed, lowering her gaze.

A while ago, I considered wanting lots and lots of money. Now, what I needed was a miracle.

Bethany told me I was top-notch at having problems. Marga, on the other hand, joked that I hoarded them like a collection. I bit my bottom lip, remembering I used to be number one, the best student in class. Instead of having a good life, I aced living my life but made it bitter, not better.

The day Marcus died, I promised him I would do anything… everything for our children, making sure they would not feel they were a burden to me. Despite my weak knees, wobbly because of worrying about where to get money, I lifted the corners of my mouth.

“Where’s Jessy?” I asked, walking toward her as I looked for her twin sister.  

“She’s in her room, talking to her friends on the phone.” Her face turned crimson. 

I nodded briefly, patting her cheek gently. “Have you said goodbye to your friends?”

“Jessy had announced it in the whole school as if she’s campaigning for president,” she chuckled and sighed. “Shay’s my only friend, and yes, we had said goodbye as if the world was going to end.”

“Good!” I shook my head, rolling my eyes. “I mean, good that you said goodbye to Shay, not the world-ending part.”

I walked toward the dresser and took another spray from my bag. My best friends joked that it was not a purse but a first-aid kit bag because I had extras of my children’s medicine inside. I called it my just-in-case bag.

I had to be alert. I always have Epinephrine injections, asthma spray, and a first aid kit. Rosie and Jessy are allergic to tuna and peanut butter. Cooper has had asthma since he was a baby. Theo has mild autism and trusts only me and his siblings, especially Rosie. He sometimes tantrums when his environment becomes stressful for him, and a first aid kit comes in handy in case he accidentally hurts himself. Isabella, my precious youngest daughter, was born with a congenital heart defect, having a small hole in her heart.

Bethany grabbed the spray from me before I could exit the bedroom.

“Eve, take a shower now. I don’t want to be late. I’ll take care of them,” she muttered, holding my son’s medicine and grabbing Rosie’s hand. “This Moira lives in the countryside, so please….” She growled, tugging my daughter toward the door, not finishing what she wanted to say.

“Why didn’t I know Aunt Moira?” Rosie’s forehead creased, asking my best friend curiously.

Although I had explained to them already that Moira was their Dad’s cousin, it remained a mystery to me, too, because I had met Marcus’ entire family in his wake but never heard of her name. Moira called me the day I received the foreclosure letter from the bank, introducing herself as Marcus’ distant cousin.

At this point, I didn’t care about their relationship. All that matters to me is my children. Marcus has been dead for six years, bringing my luck with him in his grave. Whoever Moira was in his life, what I cared about now was my children, and we had a place to live. I was exhausted with all the problems drowning me every day. Bethany said that all I needed to do was rest.

I didn’t need to rest… what I wanted was to reset my life. 

(Eve's POV)  

“Are you sure you have everything you wanted to keep?” I asked, my eyes shimmering with tears, pinned on the mansion that had been my home for eight years.

I was done mourning over the loss of Marcus’ second-loved possession. He first lost his three sports cars after being scammed in a business he had invested in, retaining the two sedan cars I had sold when he died. Jessy hated me for it, but at least their father’s funeral was decent, and I could feed them for a month without worrying about where to get money. 

“I want to keep the house,” Theo, my eight-year-old son, murmured sadly. “Can I keep it?”

A sigh escaped as he pouted when I shook my head. His eyes shimmered in tears, glancing at the neglected playground before entering Bethany’s seven-seater car.

“Why are we leaving, Mommy? Why can’t we live here anymore?” Isabella asked, blinking her round eyes at me.

I bent and pressed my lips on