When she stands on the porch, she looks over for a second before knocking the door. I watch her wait there longer than it fucking takes for someone to open the door.
She knocks again. Again. Then again.
But no one comes.
Even from afar I can see the look of heartbreak on her face.
She walks around to the windows and what she sees makes her step back. She stands there for a long minute before turning around and walking down the road towards me.
Without saying a word she slips inside and pulls up her knees to her chest. Burying her face in her arms, she quietly sobs.
Unbuckling the seatbelt, I reach over and wrap my arm around her. Pressing a kiss to her head, I give her a squeeze letting her know that I’m here.
“She was there. She saw me…” she croaks out in a weak voice that shoots pain through me.
It hurts to see her like this.
“Why didn’t she let you in?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” she whispers. “She saw me and turned her head as if she didn’t know me.”
“Fucking hell,” I mutter under my breath.
“Dad was there too, but he didn’t see me. The TV was loud so I think they didn’t hear me knock on the door.”
We both knew it was not true. Her mother saw her. If she wanted she could have let her in, but she didn’t.
I wonder what’s her fucking excuse. She is choosing her husband over her daughter. What kind of sick mother is she? And she doesn’t care that Hope is homeless right now. She has nowhere to go. Isn’t she worried where she spent the night or where’s staying?
How cruel can parents be?
“I don’t know what to do…” she murmurs.
“Do what?” I tuck her hair behind her ear to get a better look at her but her face is burrowed deep in her arms.
“Like where am I going to go now? Also, my phone, bag, clothes and everything is in my room. I have nothing with me.”
“You’re going to stay with me.” That makes her lift her head and look at me. Seeing that beautiful face with tear streaked cheeks and red rimmed eyes yanks at my heartstrings. I find myself filled with so much anger it makes me want to confront her parents.
But it’s also that face that holds me back because her pain creates an ache in me so deep I feel it in my soul.
My chest feels so tight it becomes hard to breathe. Like I’m taking my first breath after spending an eternity underwater.
Using my thumb, I wipe away all her tears and then cup her chin. “Don’t worry about my parents. I’ll take care of them.”
“But they said?—”
“I know, but trust me okay.”
She chews on her bottom lip, clearly not convinced with the idea.
After the stunt my parents pulled this morning, I don’t trust that they’ll stay away now that they know everything. It’ll be hard to keep them at bay when it comes to my life. They’re already making decisions about whether Hope should stay at the mansion or not.
I need to talk to them about it.
But that’ll have to wait.
“Let’s get out of here for today,” I say softly.
