The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

“Neither of them was raped and beaten by their father for fourteen years while their mother turned a blind eye.” The harsh biting tone that evicts the words from my mouth lands heavily between us. Lashing out viciously because of how raw the pain is making me, how his admission he’s leaving me has hit my heart like a blunt dagger. He stiffens at my words but catches himself and sighs.

Arrick smooths a finger down my cheek as a stray tear manages to escape without permission, ignoring my outburst as something I do when I’m in pain, because he’s seen it all before. I bite down on my bottom lip, trying hard to curb the urge to push him away. I don’t want his hands on me if all he is going to do is let me down again.

“Don’t let that bastard take your life, Mimmo, don’t let what he did ruin any chance of a future. You’re stronger than this. You always were, and this is just a bump in the road.” Arrick’s tone remains unchanged; he knows every sordid detail about my past, he was the one to hold my hand in therapy when it got tough, and he’s the one who distracted me through years of healing. I keep trying to remind myself of how much he has done for me as the rage bubbles and twists deep down, that insecure, scared, little fiery demon that I possess, who just wants to wipe away the sorrow and replace it with anger. Trying to give myself reasons not to jump to rage with him, but it’s hell on earth when all I have is the overwhelming pang of loneliness. He’s abandoning me after years of being my rock.

“Say I do what you ask? Say I go to therapy again? I play nice and stay home and do what you say. How long do I have to stay out here?” I lift my chin to him with big eyes, swallowing down the growing tide of bitterness, my throat beginning to burn with the effort of not losing my shit. A frown hits his brow as he slides back down with me onto the seat, pulling me with him to face him again and sighing heavily. My body heavy and numb and so very torn as to how to behave, I just feel like my emotions are all over the place and my control is slipping by the second.

“Why are you being this way? This is where you belong, where you’re safe and I don’t get why you don’t want to be here.” He tries for calm and mature again but I bite back with whiny, irritating, childish, and insecure.

go Sophie of

don’t you want to be here?” I throw it back at him, a fiery spark inside of me hitting out as my inner stubborn and irrational self, ignites. I’m hemmed in and caught against the wall, biting back in the only way I know how. That girl, who saved me from cruel insanity at the hands of my sperm donor, pushes her tough face

need to be there, Sophs, and I can’t

him to stay with me. Brimming with simmering anger and heartbreak all at once; my heart beats faster and breath hitches as panic creeps through me alarmingly. I pull myself out of his embrace and pick at the hem of his hoody, which is still on my

meet my eye, leaning in and forward to look at me, but I only

All of you did it, Leila was the absolute worst at it, and no one gave her this hard a time.” I move out of his reach, pacing to my vanity and shoving cuddly toys and childish trinkets aside before slumping down to look at myself in the mirror, free from makeup, fresh-faced and clean from using Arrick’s shower this morning, looking about fifteen years old once more. I rifle through the makeup on the top and pull out a mascara to at

feeling is turning black in my soul. I’m losing the ability to control it, and where heartbreak was, anger is now devouring instead. I spent so many years turning my rage into healthier avenues of outlet and learning not to impulsively let it jump out front when I’m hurting, but the last months in the city seem to have undone all of that, and like a knee-jerk uppercut reaction, anger