Loving The Enemy

Chapter Two

Recap-

Miranda's POV

I peeked down at the address.

Years of betrayal, I was seeing my ex-best friend over 20 years. The reunion came and gone, I saw her there and him looking distinct. Discomfort was the only word I could think of.

I got her address from my co worker at police department. I stopped thinking back and looked up to see her beautiful 3 story house.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the white and golden embellished door.

There she was, my best friend smiling and laughing. Until she saw me.

"I came her-" I stated.

"Babe who is-" I thought she moved on after everything.

Everything I came for here was destroyed. I turned around but before I left I said "I hope it was worth it."

Those were the last words that were spoken to her.

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I walked to my house, no pain nothing filled my heart. After being my best friend and knowing about him, she still wet behind my back and fell in love.

I wasn't angry at her, no one could stop their emotions. But she still went away with him, leaving me in the dust.

I enter my darken house and turn on a few lamps around the house to brighten it up. I lay back down on my couch as the darkness fades in to my life.

Once again.

<20 years before>

Miranda's POV

I sat up from my white sheeted bed.

"Friday morning. Great." I groaned.

School had just started and I begged for it to stop, but this was my senior year. Well Emily's and mine.

Emily was my amazingly smart blond of a best friend.

Beep beep beep beep beep beep

"Ugh shut up I'm awake at fucking six in the fucking morning. You fucking happy?" I yelled at the clock, I got up an shut it off.

"Why yes I am." Said a voice in the corner of my dark room.

I froze in my tracks.

"Who the-"

I shushed by lips pressed against mine.

Meet my boyfriend Chase Sef.

The quarter back who was my world. Literally.

His kiss was like a waterfall of love rushing through my veins.

"As much as I love kissing you. It's time for me to get up, take a shower and get dressed." I said while moaning against his lips.

He groaned and pushed me on to the bed.

"Are your parents home?" He asked.

His voice changed, his eyes darkened, everything changed. Shit man he is about to fuck me.

"Are they?" He growled as he grabbed my chin.

I shook" 'no' eagerly. He kissed my lips once again.

This kiss was filled with passion and dominance. I playfully bit on his bottom lip which caused him to squeeze my ass.

God love this feeling. This wasn't the first time he snuck in to my house to fuck me before school. Please this must be the 100th time.

Come one. We horny 17-18 year-olds. How the hell are we supposed to entertain each other? This was the best option we [horny kids] could think of.

I mean we did have condoms so what the hell is there anything to worry about?

Emily's POV

"Emily sweetheart please come downstairs. There is a new family who just moved in next door, and they have a son your age. Come on and go meet them." My mother's angelic voice said through the wooden door.

"Yes mother." I replied.

Fuck I hate being so fucking formal with my fucking fucky mom. Everything has to be just right, like that time at my aunt Chery's wedding.

10 years ago.

I looked at my 8 year old reflection in the beautiful golden swan mirror. It's been a year since my father died. My mothers angelic voice was now scratchy as sand paper as she talked to us now. Of course, I would cry every night. Wishing and hoping my father would somehow come alive and comfort me. Tell me there is nothing wrong with not being perfect. My mother on the other hand was the complete apposite. She pried people's hands off my cheeks to keep them chubby. She wanted me to be the definition of a real life Barbie. I had gotten so sick of it, I had started to cut my self. One for each day, the pain was unbearable. Soon it was twice a day, thrice a day, maybe even six times a day so I could sleep soundly at night. My beautiful white flower dress was now covered in a dark stain in the middle. My mom had seen the notice and spanked me a few times, then finally doing something about the dress. Considering the tailoring shop was closed, every bridesmaids had to have a dark stain the middle. Just to match mine. Everything had to be perfect.

I sighed at the memory. I hated my mother for being an OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder). I hated her obsession with perfection.

I especially hated it when she used the word 'embellish'/'embellishment' with her OCD.

Thankfully the gene never got passed down to me.