The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

I am a little more alert than yesterday now anyway. Sleep has helped, so has being roughed up and I don’t feel so distraught today. In fact, I feel like yesterday was just one massive dream and the effects are yet to catch up. I trip on my slipper as I maneuver the bright room, table already laid for breakfast, and my mother sat in a robe, bleary-eyed and chipper is gazing at us fondly. Leila has obviously ripped us both out of bed, seeing as it is barely seven a.m.

“She threw me on the floor and threatened to break my nose.” I immediately point out as she sits at one end of the table, grabbing a croissant and jam as she does so. I know my dad is probably already up and showering for work and we won’t be seeing him anytime soon. He takes breakfast with him on the commute to his offices, about a thirty-minute drive away. Not that he needs to work, his company runs itself, and we are hardly poor.

“Leila … Don’t be harsh on your baby sister.” mom gives her a serious frown as Leila slides in at the table opposite her instead of the seat she had been hovering at a minute ago. I guess she figures close and cozy at one end of the table will make me more likely to spill my guts, or I will be close enough to assault with the butter knife.

“Momma, when you start beating her then I won’t need to.” Leila smiles cheekily and delves into the pile of pancakes being laid down by the new young housekeeper. I think her name is Olivia or something, we haven’t been introduced. My parents forget that the housekeepers are people too sometimes, and I happen to be around the same age as her. I smile her way and get a blush in return before she scurries off.

“I will never beat my children.” She says in almost sheer disgust, as though the very thought is abhorrent to her.

“That’s why we’re all spoiled brats who think alcohol is God’s answer to all our problems, Mom. God knows I could have used a few spankings in my time.” Leila smiles brightly and I curb the urge to say out loud that I am sure she has had many a spanking that Daniel probably still provides. “I’ll spank Sophie for you if you like?” She smirks my way, eyebrows raised in that ‘and I’ll like it’ sort of look she’s good at. I giggle, extending another middle finger because she is only confirming my thoughts on her sexual preferences.

“You will not. I won’t hear of any of you hitting one another.” Mom’s now buttering toast, small happy glances at my presence at the table, and of the familiarity of this unfolding scene, obviously making her joyful today.

Leila smiles as I stick my tongue out at her. Our mother snaps up in alarm as I

she has left permanent marks.” The childishness of my tattle

under this roof? How do any of you function in the adult world?” She sighs and looks to both of her girls as we

explanation and sort of poking fun

had been a lot of sleeping around when she was pining for one ‘Daniel Hunter’ back

mother wants to hear uttered from her innocent babies’ mouths.” She seems alarmed, resigned to the fact

we tuck into the food. I’m all too aware that we’re just delaying things. No one wants to burst this happy little pretend bubble that we are all okay and ask me anything. Even Leila has given the overbearing asshole act a moment of respite and seems wary about pushing me. I glance nervously at the two of them, heads down as they

get over it. I’m sorry that I’ve put you through hell, all of you. I was in pain and doing what I thought I needed to get through it. I know that it’s wrong and it isn’t how I want to continue living my life.” I keep my eyes averted as tears smart in the depths, willing myself not to break, and try to keep that stony-faced,

head darts up, it only confirms what Leila is saying. She shakes her head angrily. “Do I actually have to beat seven shades

the heart can send a girl over the edge when they have the same fire as we do. I’m like Leila in a lot of ways, and now I know I pretty much have been her for the past couple years, without even knowing it. Minus the sex. Leila was never sexually abused, so she

sister might be some sort

points her fork at me, lifts