My Rejected Heart, Soccerluv4 * [book recommendations based on other books txt] 📗

My fingers brushed lightly over the frame, feeling the delicate pattern of the outside and skimming over the cool glass. Her face filled with wonder, a small twitch at the corner of her lip in an attempt to smile, as she held on tightly to a baby girl and rested another hand on her son. Her smile hinted her teeth, and her coffee colored wisps flew around her face, framing it delicately.
A large tear hit the glass, blurring the image beneath. That was when I realized I’d been crying. I wiped it away with my sleeve, sniffling and setting the picture back on top of the shelf. Looking back around the room, a cracked window allowed a small angle of sun to stream in. The room still looked musky, particles of dust floating around. I walked over to the bed and touched it softly, feeling the material against my trembling fingers. Moving back away, I turned around, surveying every inch of the room. The ceiling was high up and filled with the natural wood that she loved. I could see the light satin curtains on the wall hanging limply, unlike their usual flow. Frowning slightly, I walked over to the window and slid it open. The wind immediately rushed in and began gently stirring them back and forth. I smiled, as the room lit up, showcasing the soft crème colored walls that she was always so fond of.
“She loved this room more than anything,”
My head swiveled to the door, spotting my father standing there with a small smile. I watched him warily as he looked around the room, sucking in a shaky breath every so often as he examined it.
“What are you doing here?” My voice finally resurfaced, whilst I crossed my arms and raised my chin defiantly.
He just looked at me, studying my face. He took a step in my direction, but suddenly stopped and backed away. Angling himself away from me, he shuffled towards the shelf I’d been at just a few moments ago, and stopped in front of mom’s picture.
“She was always so beautiful, you know? She never hesitated to make anyone smile. I remember when we’d first met. I was out with a bunch of my friends at a party. Of course she was there too. She looked stunning when I’d first laid my eyes on her. The way she walked into a place like she owned it. She was so confident, but so modest, and so beautiful. Although, she was a true spitfire when she found out we were mates,” he said, shaking his head while chuckling quietly.
I still looked at him, not responding at all. Was this supposed to be a father daughter moment? I couldn’t really respond, I didn’t know how to. He was actually being genuine but he still terrified me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his body now facing me. I was too zoned out with my own thoughts to realize he was looking at me.
Meeting his eyes, I could see they were glazed over with unshed tears. My heart was beating erratically in my chest as I noticed the wrinkles on his forehead, the deep dark semicircles hugging his eyes, the way his hair faded to grey on the tips. In that moment, I noticed how much he was hurting, how-despite my pain-that hurting me was his only way of handling mom’s death. I could see the regret behind his voice. My throat itched and I had the sudden urge to scratch it back to health. Why couldn’t I just accept the apology?
Looking away, I focused on the blank wall behind him. I could practically feel the audible sigh he released. My heart sank at that sound. I knew he was trying to repair our broken relationship, but my heart just couldn’t ignore the cries of pain and the nightly bruises I had endured.
“I love you Arianna. I mean it,”
His last words came at me full force. Not once in the past four years would I have thought to hear those words from him again. So desperately I had wanted to hear those words from him, to have some hope that maybe there was still a loving father inside the same man that hurt me. So long had I wished for this moment to come. But it was nothing like I’d expected. After all these years, I gave up on that little voice in my heart that would plead he would change. And here we were, as he said the same words that I so long yearned for, and I couldn’t even feel it.
There are times in life where you question why you have your family. Even during the most difficult of times, you still remember that you love them, and they deserve your kindness not your cruelty. But at that moment, I couldn’t feel the love back for him like I used to. All I felt was this confusion. I couldn’t feel anything towards him. I couldn’t feel the happiness a girl should feel towards her father. All I could do was nod back and turn aside.
Staring hard at the ground, I heard a small sigh and his footfalls before the door clicked shut. That’s when I let the dam of tears flow, one by one, jumping over the edge of my eye, sliding down my cheek, and ending at my chin. Each one fell quietly, almost as if they had no fight in them. Each one was not a tear of frustration or anger. No, these tears were a sign of surrender. They were a sign of defeat.
Walking backwards, my legs hit the edge of the bed, where I slowly sat down. My eyes fixated on the portrait of my family, my once beautiful family.
The door squeaked open, causing my head to turn in the direction of the sound. Heaving a sigh of relief, I found myself looking at my little brother’s big blue eyes.
“Come here, Sammy,” I opened my arms up, where he greedily ran and jumped into.
Giving a soft laugh, I combed my fingers through his hair, while he rested his head in the crook of my neck.
“Was this mommy’s room?” He asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
Smiling slightly, I kissed the top of his head and rocked him gently.
“Yes, Sammy. This was our mommy’s room.” I looked back up at the room and smiled. It was true the future was uncertain. I didn’t know if she was alive or not, nor did I know if our family was going to be alright. But I did know that my heart wasn’t abandoned. I still had my brothers, I still had Drew, and that’s all that mattered.
I could, and would get through this.
“I wish she was here Ari,” He mumbled quietly.
“Me too Sammy, me too.”

I plastered my face against the window, watching all the guards go by on patrol. Since Zane had been kidnapped, all the security was amped up, with little room for any more freedom. Along with the security, I hardly ever saw Drew anymore. He was always so busy trying to keep the pack safe, not that it mattered. After hearing his ultimatum about sacrificing my mom if needed, I couldn’t bear the thought of even talking to him. I felt jolts of pain from my palms, and relaxed my tense fists.

Heaving a sigh, I pulled myself away from the windows and decided to get something to eat. All this stress wasn’t good for my body, and starving myself wasn’t going to help. I walked out of my room and towards the stairs, hearing other pack members chatting downstairs. Slowly, I descended.

For some reason unknown to me, I felt nervous. I didn’t want to face them, to see their accusing stares. After all, it was all my fault that this was happening. My mother was the one who died, and my friend was the one who got kidnapped because of me. I was the sole reason this pack was in trouble. Gulping, I continued down the stairs quietly. Reaching the bottom, I ducked my head down and went into the kitchen. I could feel the stares of all the pack members on me. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea coming down here.

“What are you doing down here?” I heard a shrill voice exclaim. Immediately, my mind registered it as the all too famous Dana.

“Why are you even putting us through all this shit? Do you even understand what you’re doing? Some Luna you are, putting us all in danger and locking yourself up in your room while we danger our lives trying to protect you,” She sneered, glaring at me with such hate that I could feel her eyes slicing at me.

My stomach heaved in pain. I felt so nauseous that it was unbearable. The guilt of everything was eating me alive. How could I put everyone through this?

Blinking back tears, I ducked my head down in defeat.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, before bolting back up the stairs and away from everyone’s judging stares.

Locking my door, I collapsed onto the bed. I needed to do something before anyone else could get hurt.

No, I can’t do this anymore, I thought. It was time for me to start figuring things out so that I could save this pack from being ruined by some killer.

A sudden idea popped into my head. Running to my mother’s room, I dropped to my knees in front of the bedside drawer and opened it. Fiddling around, my fingers grasped a frayed book, bound with leather and a large brass knuckle. I pulled it out, and held it in both of my hands. Carefully, I traced the letters of my mother’s name that was stitched into the leather, each glowing as I did so. The buckle clicked, and I pulled it apart, opening the book.

I had found this years ago when I’d been snooping around in my parents’ room. At first, I was absolutely clueless on how to open it, until my mom told me that tracing over the letters is how the lock unbuckled. However, that was as far as we got in the book, because after it opened, my mom told me she would show me when I was old enough to.

I guess it was finally time to see what was inside this book, and hopefully, it would help me get closer to my mom.

I flipped open to the first page. Inside, scribbled in sharp, swift curves were notes my mother had written. They all dated back to a few years after I was born. I noticed that the writing was hastily written and deep, almost as if my mom had written quickly and angrily, the marks of her letters pressing deep into the paper. But what was it that she was so angry about?

I clutched the book in my palms and rested it onto my lap. My eyes skimmed over all the words quickly, trying to absorb as much of my mother’s thoughts.

As I neared the end of the book, a passage caught my eye.

December