eighteen » l.h

18.

Luke's POV.

My breathing was heavy throughout the whole flight.

I had denied everything the flight attendant offered. I was in no mood to eat.

I had called one of Estelle's friends, Michael I think it was.

He tried to engage in a conversation but quickly stopped once I told him about her. He wasn't aware that she was leaving. I had called Ashton and he didn't know either. I had gone to Calum's house, to which he opened the door, saw that it was me, and slammed the door in my face as I was about to speak.

That fucking asshole.

I kept knocking until he finally opened the door and came outside with me, sitting down on the stairs.

"What do you want?" He said, looking angry.

"Did Estelle-"

"Don't fucking mention her name to me. I hate her," He snapped.

"Just listen." I insisted.

He nodded and lowered his head, letting me speak.

"Did Estelle ever tell you things about her mother?" I asked.

"A few things." He nodded.

"What were those things?"

"She lives in New York and that she loves her, despite the type of woman her mother is and-"

"Did she tell you anything important?" I cut him off.

"She said she would remember how her mom would come home every night with a guy while you were at work,"

That fucking bitch.

"The guy and her mom would drink all the wine and vodka bottles together, break it, and then her mom would send the guy up to her room and drag her downstairs, making her clean up all the shattered pieces of glass up from the floor."