Page 3 of Broken Harmony
No. He's wrong. So damn wrong. Nothing is going to be okay. I fucked it all up, and now I’ve lost her for good. There’s no way her parents are going to let her go to California now. Even though Lulu turns eighteen soon and can legally take control of her life, they won’t let her.
Still, I’m not going to go down without at least trying to fight for her.
For now, I’ll go to bed, sleep off this alcohol. And tomorrow, I’ll go over to her place. I just need to see Lulu. To talk to her.
I know her parents aren’t going to let me, but I at least have to try. She needs to know I’m sorry. That I’m not going to make her choose. That I choose her, no matter what. Even if all she can offer me is friendship, because that’s worth more than anything.
***
Having ahangover from helldoesn’t even come close to what I feel like right now. It’s not just the alcohol, it’s all the crying I did last night, the lack of sleep, and the puking I’ve done for the past half hour. Add in the fact that I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest, shattered into millions of pieces, only to have the pieces shoved back in, doesn’t help.
“You look like a fucking mess,” I mutter to myself as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are red, there are dark circles clinging to the underside of my eyes, and my face is pale and splotchy. I’m a hot mess. No. Not hot, just a mess. A fucking mess.
After scrubbing my face clean, I throw my curly hair up into a messy bun and slip on some sweat pants and a crop top. I don’t put on a bra because right now, I really couldn’t care less.
“You look lovely this morning,” my dad, Malcolm, chuckles as I stumble my way into the kitchen.
I give him an evil glare, flipping him off before plopping down into one of the chairs.
“Hey, that’s no way to treat the person who went and got your car for you,” he teases as he places some pancakes in front of me. “Aaaand made you food.”
“You got my car?” I ask. He nods. “Thanks,” I sigh. “And sorry. Bad night.”
“I heard.” He gives me a sympathetic look. “Mom told me. It’s going to be okay, kiddo. Lulu is your best friend. There’s nothing you two can’t get through.”
I just stare at him because, boy, is he so damn wrong.
Rolling my eyes, I dig into the pancakes. I want to puke with every bite I take, but my stomach is screaming at me to eat, so I take the risk.
When I’m done, I grab my phone and car keys before heading out.
The whole drive to Lulu’s house, I'm freaking out. All I can think about is her angry, hurt face and her telling me she hates me, that she never wants anything to do with me again. I’d rather get hit by a bus, honestly.
Pulling up to her house, I get out the second the car is in park, not wanting to let my nerves get the better of me and chicken out.
Giving the door a good knock, I wait for someone to answer. With every second that passes, I feel like I’m going to pass out. I’m so damn nervous.
The door opens, and my stomach bottoms out when I see it’s her mother.
Her face morphs into one filled with fury as soon as she sees me. “What are you doing here?” she hisses.
Swallowing hard, I take a deep breath and stand tall. “I’m here to see Lulu. Can I talk to her... please?”
“No. You cannot talk to her,” she huffs. “Lucinda is never allowed to see you again. So, get in your car and leave. Now.”
“Lulu is an adult. She can make choices for herself,” I grind out, using the name she prefers because I know she hates her real name.
“She is my daughter. And is not yet of age. It’s my job as her mother to protect her and keep her safe.”
“And you think she needs protecting from me?” I ask, raising a brow.
“Yes.” She glares at me. “You are a sinner, Alisha. A lost soul with no redemption. And I will not allow you around my daughter anymore. You’ll only continue to corrupt her.”
“She’s going to be eighteen in a month,” I point out. “You can’t control her for the rest of her life. She has every right to choose what she wants to do with it and who she wants in it,” I growl. “You and your crazy husband and the whole fucking cult you worship can’t have her,” I snap. “If you really loved your daughter, you would let her go.”
“Leave,” she snaps. “Leave now before I call the cops. You are trespassing on private property.”
“Lulu!” I shout over her shoulder.
