01: Put The Past Behind.

Olivia's POV 

I sat in my living room, rocking back and forth on my father's old chair. I could still smell his scent on the old leather, bringing tears to my eyes. 

In my arms, I cradled the porcelain jar that held my dad’s ashes. 

It still felt like a dream. I pinched myself multiple times to wake myself up from this nightmare, but I only ended up with bruises on my arms each time my fingernails sank into my skin, drawing blood. 

This was no dream. Dad was dead.

     

It was almost unbelievable, but it was true. 

      

I glanced over at the table, and on it was the letter the Luna of my pack had delivered to me during Dad's funeral. I picked it up and read through it for the tenth time. 

Regardless of how many times I read it, I still couldn't believe she was coming here after everything that she did, after all this time. 

That was impossible. 

Yet, my suitcase was packed beside me because Luna Mia had also been quite clear on her stance. Since Dad was gone, I had to leave. I was leaving my pack, the only home I had known all my life, to stay with… 

     

Knock! Knock! Knock!

I was jerked from my brooding. I carefully placed the jar on the table and walked to the door.

     

The impatient knocking came again, and the air was suddenly filled with the scent of expensive, intrusive perfume, which almost blurred Dad's scent, that was still lingering in the room. 

     

I walked to the door, flung it open, and saw her. 

My mother.

She was nothing like I remembered from her lips, which were a bright red, and the flashy large hoop earrings that were dangling on both ears. 

     

She cleared her throat, interrupting my assessment, "God! You look like  a mess, Olivia.” Her eyes swept over me in one fair swoop of disgust. 

     

"You should brush your hair. It looks like a bird's nest."

     

Her voice was high and full of mockery. This was exactly like I remembered. Only that, Dad used to be at the receiving end of that mockery.

Now, it was me.

"What are you doing here, Nicole?” 

     

She gasped and looked at me angrily, and I took joy in seeing the displeasure on her face as her lips turned down angrily at the sides.

"Where are your manners, young lady? Need I remind you that I am still your mother.”

I scoffed. A person like her could call herself a mother?

Without waiting for my reply, Nicole pushed past me and entered the house. I closed the door and watched her in anger as she looked around.

     

"Still looks the same. Your father never changed those filthy sofas after all."

     

She turned to me again.

     

"You got my letter, didn't you?"

I folded my arms and stared angrily at her.

     

"Yeah, I did. Tell me this is some joke." 

My mother laughed sarcastically and suddenly glared at me angrily,  “Look, Liv..."

     

"Don't call me Liv.” That was something that only my loved ones could call me. 

She was not on that list. Although there was no list anymore as there had been only one person—Dad. And he was not even here anymore.

Another wave of heartache hit me while Nicole rolled her eyes and ignored my comment.

     

"Look, I don't have much time. Get your stuff and get into the car, and if I feel like it, I can explain things to you."

     

She gave the house one last disgusted look over and walked out. I sighed angrily and sat in my dad's chair. What was all this? Why did she have to come? 

When I had gotten the letter from the pack’s Luna, a part of me had desperately hoped that it was some prank and that she wouldn’t make it. After all, I had spent thirteen years waiting for her to walk through these same doors. 

Yet, she had ended up coming. 

I heard a low rumbling sound, and I looked out of the window; I saw a black BMW. I raised my eyebrow in surprise. That was my mother's ride? Where on earth did she...

     

The car outside honked its horn, and I knew my time here was up. 

     

Still holding the jar with my dad's ashes, I dragged my suitcase out of the door. 

My mum finally stopped honking as I walked up to the car with my suitcase.

     

"I don't even know why you even bother carrying those ashes. Your hands are all dirty. Could you not get them on my seats? They're Italian leather."

     

I scoffed angrily. How dare she?

     

"You're unbelievable! How could you say that about Dad?!"

     

She rolled her eyes and gave me a pointed stare. "Do you even know how much Italian leather costs?"

     

I was dumbfounded, but she couldn't care less.

     

"For the record," I said in a grim tone. "I am only tagging along because Dad would have wanted me to. I'd rather be dead with him than go anywhere with you." 

“That would have been better, Liv,” she mumbled and turned away.

If I had expected that anything would be different after thirteen years and a new ride, I was awfully wrong, and Nicole was in a hurry to let me know.

   

“Step on it. I have things to do."

     

The driver started the car, and then we sped away, leaving my old life, house, and everything I have ever known behind.