Page 36 of Hate So Deep

Sadly, I think my mom was more focused on punishing my dad than the actual act of letting go but it’s his response to yet another insult that sent me back a step.

Buck wasn’t exactly innocent in all this, was he? Maybe if you had told him the truth, we wouldn’t be here right now.

What truth? Is my mother hiding something?

The low murmur of voices down below brings me back to the present and I groan.

Sitting across from my dad and Celia today feels beyond repugnant now.

Did Dad care about Buck? Is he sad that he’s gone?

Fuck me.

I feel empty as I glance around my new room, taking in the lavender comforter and pale wood furnishings that Dad must have informed Celia I liked…when I was fifteen fucking years old.

Whatever.

The only thing my parents did agree on after letting my brother die is that I should spend the holiday here and clutchingthe teddy bear my pop-pop gave me a bazillion years ago, I curl into a ball and pick up my phone.

I see a few new messages, but I don’t have the energy to respond. Most are from fake as fuck friends who didn’t care enough about Buck while he was alive, so their condolences don’t mean shit now.

My parents still have to plan the funeral but all I know is that I don’t know anything, and the notion presses at my chest, burning hotter than ever when someone knocks at my door.

Sucking in a breath, I let it out slowly before rasping, “Yeah?”

“Lala?” Celia says and I wince. “Can I come in?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her to fuck off but thankfully years of being taught how to be a good little bitch kick in and I mumble, “Okay.”

She slowly opens the door and peeks beyond while I summon the strength to bite back my bitch. Still in her pajamas, I note her mussed hair and tired eyes as she approaches with a tentative smile, and asks, “How are you feeling?”

Numb. Confused. Fucking cold.

Of course, I don’t express any of those things and say instead, “Tired.”

Nodding, she looks around the room before she sighs and says, “I know this is weird for you, sweetie and, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling. I’m probably the last person you want to talk to, but I want you to know that I’m here.”

Strangely, tears form in my eyes at her sincerity, but I brush them away as I sit up and move to the edge of the bed.

“Thanks,” I say. “I’ll just be down in a minute.”

“Okay, but you don’t have to pretend, Lala. We understand if you just need some time to be alone.”

Eyeing her sideways, I slowly nod. It’s weird to be having this conversation. I barely know the woman and up until now, I’ve hated her for what she’s done to my family.

But whose fault, is it? Dad for betraying us? This woman for being the one he chose. Or maybe Mom because she’s not an easy woman to live with.

Either way, I don’t know how to process the weird feeling pressing at my chest. I need time and say, “I-I just need a minute.”

She searches my eyes before slowly nodding and once she’s gone, I collapse back to the bed and stare at the ceiling.

Fuck me but I’m so damn confused right now.

I take my time showering, the hot water soothing my aching muscles. After, I blow out my hair until it shines.

I didn’t bring much with me and frankly what I did bring doesn’t make much sense, so I settle on a sleeveless white silk shirt and jeans before pulling on my favorite boots.

The minimal makeup I do have was in my purse, so I feel a bit naked as I swipe on lip gloss and step into the hall.

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