Heaven's POV
The morning sun streamed through my bedroom window, casting a warm glow across the room. I groggily rolled over and glanced at the clock: 8:00 AM. With a sigh, I forced myself out of bed, knowing I had a long day ahead.
After a quick shower, I decided on an outfit: high-waisted cargo jeans and a black crop top. I liked how the outfit made me feel—confident and ready to take on the world. I pulled my hair into a messy bun and applied some light makeup, just enough to look presentable.
Downstairs, the smell of coffee greeted me. My mom was already in the kitchen, sipping from her favorite mug and scrolling through her phone.
"Morning, Mom," I said, pouring myself a cup of coffee.
"Morning, Heaven," she replied with a warm smile. "Busy day today?"
"Yeah, I'm meeting Dad for lunch," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.
She looked up, concern flickering in her eyes. "How's that going?"
"Honestly, I'm dreading it," I admitted, taking a seat across from her. "He's been... difficult lately."
She sighed, setting her phone down. "He always has been. But you know, if it gets too much, you can always come to me. I know that I'm always busy, but I want you to know that you come always come to me baby."
I nodded, appreciating her support. "Yeah, I know mom. I don't know what I'd do without you."
My mom smiled, her eyes softening. "I love you sweetheart, never forget that."
"I love you too." I smile, my heart feeling warm as she said that.
We chatted for a bit longer, mostly about life and how things had been going. It was nice to have these moments with my mom, where everything felt normal and uncomplicated.
As the clock edged closer to noon, I knew it was time to head out. "Wish me luck," I said, grabbing my bag.
"You don't need it, sweetie. You're strong. But good luck anyway," she replied with a wink.
---
The restaurant my dad had chosen was one of those fancy places with white tablecloths and waiters who looked like they belonged in a Michelin-starred establishment. I walked in, my stomach knotting with anxiety.
I spotted him at a table near the back, already looking impatient. Taking a deep breath, I approached and forced a smile.
"Hi, Dad," I greeted, sitting down.
"Heaven," he replied curtly, not bothering to stand. "You're late."
"I'm actually right on time," I corrected, trying to keep my tone even.
He huffed, clearly not in the mood for any backtalk. "So, how's everything with Alan?"
The mention of Alan made my heart sink. He hasn't seen me in a while, and he wants to talk about Alan? Not even asking how I am. "Dad, I... I don't really want to be with him anymore."
He looked at me sharply, his eyes narrowing. "And why is that?"
"He cheated on me a while back, I told you this." I said quietly, feeling the familiar sting of betrayal.
My dad's face reddened, and I knew what was coming. "You're not breaking up with him," he snapped. "You need to make it work. Relationships require effort, Heaven."
"Effort?" I repeated, incredulous. "He cheated on me, Dad. How am I supposed to just forget that?"
"Because you have to," he said through gritted teeth. "You're not going to embarrass this family by breaking up with him over something so trivial."
YOU ARE READING
One Kiss Left
Storie d'amore"Don't you think that skirt is short for you?" She says, changing the subject and taking another long hit from her blunt. Since when does she care about my clothing? Besides it's not like it's affecting anyone, so why does it matter? "Um, no. Why...
