NINE•FRIENDS

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Lita sank into the plush seat of her mother's car, enveloped in a suffocating silence. The sudden creak of the car's trunk opening startled her, and she turned to see her mother emerging, an air of tension lingering around her. As her mother settled into the driver's seat, an oppressive silence descended upon them.

A heavy sigh broke the quiet, and her mother uttered, "I bought the dress."

Lita couldn't suppress a scoff, her gaze fixated on the passing scenery beyond the window. The anger within her bubbled, an emotional storm raging within. Yet, beneath the anger, a current of hurt flowed. Her mother's words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the growing chasm between them.

"Lita, estás siendo egoísta," her mother chided, surprising Lita that her mother even bothered to remember Spanish. A sharp finger was pointed accusingly. "Don't try to make my wedding about yourself. We have years to quarrel, and I won't let you ruin my special day."

Lita's jaw tightened, caught between the tempest of anger and the sting of her mother's accusation. The conflicting emotions whirled within her, a turbulent sea of resentment, hurt, and a flicker of longing for understanding. The weight of unspoken words pressed down on her, the car's interior becoming a battleground for emotions left unaddressed.

𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓•𝗣𝗔𝗨𝗟 𝗟𝗔𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗘Where stories live. Discover now