The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

“You think I have an alcohol problem? You’re talking about rehab?” I lift my palms in complete disbelief. “Dad? Mom?” I turn imploringly. “I didn’t drink for like over three weeks after I came here, almost four! An alcoholic wouldn’t go more than four hours. I fucked up once, and you want to condemn me to a fucking rehab center. What the hell is wrong with you?” My temper chooses to dominate over wounded pride and pain.

Miss. Predictable!

“I think it’s more than booze, Sophie. I don’t know what else you kids are taking nowadays, but saying you were spiked.... Did you take drugs?” He is deadly serious, and it rips a hole right through my heart. Betrayal at its worst.

“Drugs? Are you fucking kidding me? You know how I feel about drugs, Dad! Why are you even saying this to me? How can you even think that of me?.... Have you even looked at me the last few weeks, seen how different I have tried to be?” yelling, emotionally bawling at him with rage and hysteria breaking free.

and this is proof, that despite trying so hard, you cannot do this without real help.” My mom is now beside me, gripping my arm and crying

You two are out of your heads if you think I need to go to rehab. Talk about one extreme to the other, dad.....You either leave me to my own devices and seem scared to say boo to me, or you want to put me in bloody prison for twenty-eight days to dry out among the actual alcoholics. Do

a good place. You are going and that is final, Sophie. I won’t put your mother through this anymore.” My father yells after me, which only

that? You can’t have me locked in a rehab center when I don’t even have an addiction. You’re crazy.... All of you. You can all go the fuck away and leave me alone.” I keep running, trying to ignore the bellowing of my dad below me, forbidding me to leave. I can hear my mom sobbing and him yelling to get him his cell and I just want to scream. There’s a smash as he loses his shit, and something gets thrown across the hall in

past fear, adrenalin kicking in and blinding me as I get caught in the so long ago. Memories of a father who used to smash things over the top of me, hold me down, smack me around when I disobeyed him, come flooding back. That stubborn head goes on, blinkers attached and my heart, pounding through my chest, goes into

was fourteen years old and sneaking out

it’s not that simple. I have known girls whose families had