Hating the Callas [COMPLETED]

19. LOVE AND DELIGHT

The past two days after the whole incident had been quiet. After coming home with dad, I never left my room. I found comfort in sleep. Food or even my collection of movies didn't do the job; which was surprising. Mom brought me a whole carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream to cheer me up but I couldn't even touch it. It's still on my nightstand looking depressed as me. I should give it to Damien. He loves ice cream "soup".

I knew my parents and Mason were worried and wanted to talk about this whole issue. I mean, come on! This is new to them. I rarely cried; much less get miserable over a BOY!

I closed my eyes trying to forget the embarrassment and hurt I felt that day; but the only thing that I kept seeing were a pair of sea green eyes that were staring back coldly. I groaned in frustration and eyed the ceiling; that looked far more interesting than my pathetic life. Right at that moment I heard a knock which brought me out of my wandering thoughts.

"Honey? Can I come in? Please?" I caught my mom's voice through the door.

I debated what to do and finally opened it for her.

The first thing I noticed was how tired she looks. Her usual radiant face looked pale and she looked like she didn't get any sleep. My heart dropped with guilt and sadness for making her worry. So, that's why I let her into my room and hugged her back.

I finally pulled back from her tight hold because getting strangled to death isn't how I want to leave this world and I love her too much to see her in jail. God knows that she wouldn't survive prison. She'd probably get beaten for opening her sassy mouth. Or... maybe she'll become the leader of her inmates with her bossy personality.

"Oh honey! We were so worried about you. I wish I could make everything better." She whispered. Her voice cracking slightly at the end.

"I'm really sorry, Ma. I just wanted to be alone for a bit" I watched my mom make herself comfortable in my bed and looked at me with a knowing look.

"Do you want to talk about it? Does this have something to do with a boy?"

I sighed and looked at my pillowcase with interest; trying to put off this talk.

"Honey... it'll be easier to let it all out. And... we do have a lot of guestrooms. Our house is the perfect environment for a nice kidnapping. Your dad and I would be honored to deal with this boy and whoever else contributed to making my little girl cry." Mom rubbed my outstretched legs with determination.

I couldn't help but give a small laugh at her speech, which came out as a sob. "How do you know it's about a guy?"

"Maternal instincts" She winked.

I grabbed a spoon and the new ice cream carton she brought today; Cookie Dough! I sat back, placing a tray under the carton and dug in, surprised by the delicious treat.

"Yeah, it's about a boy." I replied back quietly.

"It's that Callas boy, Elijah, isn't it?"

I almost choked when I caught her say that; my heart aching, yet filled with joy to hear his name. Nodding my head slowly, I agreed with her, being aware that my voice would sound shaky if I talked. Showing that kind of weakness was too embarrassing for me. Nevertheless, I finally opened up. Letting all the hurt, anger, jealousy and that little spark of hope that maybe he'll give us a chance, out.

I started from how we started talking awhile ago, to what happened after laser tag. The look of disbelief and anger Elijah showed when he told me to stop loving him and finally, the look of pure delight and love in his face when he saw Isabella. Polar opposites.

No matter how much I want to be with him and be the one making him happy, I can't do that. Isabella can. While talking to mom, I realized that I cared for his happiness more than anything. And if Isabella gives it to him, who am I to stop it?

Focusing back to reality, I hurriedly wiped my tear-stricken face with the back of my hand and gave her a small smile, trying to cover up the pain. But mom saw through everything. She whispered soothingly, wrapping her arms around me and rocking me;  as gut-wrenching sobs tore through my chest.

I hate myself.

I hate myself because I can never be her. I can never be Isabella... Oh, how I wish I was.

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A/N –  YOU GUYS ARE SOOOOO PATIENT! THANK YOU!!!!! IT MEANS A LOT!