The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

As soon as we get outside, he looks down at the sidewalk and then at my feet, turns and scoops me over his shoulder, igniting a
second bout of psycho and fight in me. I throw myself into a second hurricane tornado of violence and try like a psychopath to
get away from him.
“Sophie, for the first time in my life, I will actually spank you. Will you stop fucking fighting me!” Arrick snaps at me, gripping me
so harshly it makes me yelp in fright, and I fall quiet. The threat of being smacked sounds real, like he means it and I recoil inside
my own head. It’s not being said in kinkiness or jest this time, and I wonder if he would. Silenced by the thought of him hitting
me, knowing I should never fear that from him, but there’s a part of me who does. Memories of what it feels like to be kicked into
a corner, punched, and slapped repeatedly, until your fight and fire dies out and there’s nothing left but a sobbing broken little girl.
He puts up with so much and takes so much from me and never snaps, but maybe he could. Especially after tonight.
He finds a cab fast and practically tosses me in, taking a moment outside on the sidewalk to try and calm himself. So much
aggression and fight in that strong body, bristling and simmering behind that set of cool eyes, before he gets in. He slides in
beside me and moves closer, but I turn and use feet and hands to shove him away. Beyond pissed and needing space, still
sobbing brokenly and hating him with every ounce of fire left in me. He glares at me and grits his teeth but says nothing. Just
moves away again, and slams the door shut before barking his address at the driver. He lifts a hand to his head and rubs his
face in agitation, scrubbing it through his hair and looks away.
Feeling messed up, hysterical and stupidly irrational; I shove at him with my foot again. Wanting a reaction, yet not knowing what
kind I even need, playing with fire because he has me so messed up in the head. I can’t stand the crippling agony, fighting with
the all-consuming rage inside of me and I know I should let this simmer and release some pressure, but I can’t help it.
“Do you still love her?” I cry, “Is that why you lied to me?” It’s all falling out of my head uncensored, gibberish emotional mess,
sniffing back tears, wiping the flood from my face and failing to stop it. He clenches his fists in his lap and snaps around to glare
at me.
“Don’t be fucking stupid. I didn’t lie.... You need to stop this shit, I’m warning you. I don’t know how to handle this right now. Just
leave me be to cool down and let me alone.” He barks at me, glaring angrily, and there is not one hint of love in that expression.
He looks like a stranger, detached and cold, nothing in that face I even recognize as my Arry.
“Why did you say you made your choice and now you have to live with it? Didn’t sound like someone who is where he wants to
be.” I sob, taking bits and pieces from my head and trying to make sense of them, aching and messed up with all of this.

“You’re remembering it out of context. Look.... Right now, I know I am drunk and this... US.... we need to leave this alone until
tomorrow, before it gets a whole lot worse. With you this way, and me like this... Just leave it alone, I’m begging you, Sophs. I’ll
sleep in the spare room and we won’t fucking do this to each other again. No more booze, ever.” He pushes my foot away from
him harshly, cradling my shoes on his lap and turns away, his jaw tensing and every muscle twinging in his face as he grits his
teeth.
“Fuck you.” I bite angrily. Hating his decision to blank me out like I’m worthless, needing to do something, anything, to alleviate
the pressure inside of me that has me on the verge of all out explosion.
“No, Sophie. Fuck you! I am sick of trying to convince you that I want you, sick of dealing with this shit. Maybe I should take you
home and leave you there tonight instead; It’ll be better for both of us if we spent tonight apart.” He snarls at me, pushing my foot
away again as I attempt to childishly shove him once more, no clue why I am ‘poking the bear’.
“You know what, you’re completely right. I should go home, away from you; while you go run after her and make sure she’s okay.
Run after the girl you obviously still love, more than me.” I bite sarcastically. Tears dripping onto my naked collar bones and
making me shiver. I realize my coat is no longer on me or on him, we must have left it wherever it fell and only he is wearing his.
I hadn’t even noticed in the drama and I’m left in a strapless dress and nothing else.
“Hey? Can you take a left here buddy, change of venue?” Arrick taps the driver, completely ignoring me, gives him my address
when he nods, and we turn in the direction of my apartment. Making it clear he meant what he said about being separate tonight.
“Pretty much admitting that’s what you’re going to do.” I slap his shoulder, leaning forward to reach him, see him tense, but he
doesn’t react, grits his teeth and turns to me coolly.
“If that’s what that crazy fucked up head of yours tells you I’m going to do, then we should end this here............Pull over at the
building with the red door.” Arry leans forwards as my building comes into view quickly, we were only seconds away, and I let
loose.
“Don’t say that to me... Don’t call me that.” I barely wait for the car to stop before I yank open the door, blinded by tears,
complete heartbreak and jump out without any awareness of my own safety. Dragging ass across the road at speed, even with
bare feet on harsh tarmac and almost get hit by a car in the process. The honk of horn doesn’t even phase me, so blinded by
rage and sadness that I’m not paying attention.
“Sophie, for fucks sake.” Arrick is hot on my heels and pulls me back as a second car narrowly misses me, grabbing me by the
arm and then pulling me against his body. Turning me to him with another tug and yanking me the last gap to the sidewalk

outside my house. He motions two minutes to the driver across the road, making it clear he has no intention of sticking around.
“I hate you.” I lash out at him, but he dodges and shoves my shoes in my chest so that I automatically grip them. He hands me
his spare key to my apartment too because I never brought any with me tonight, and I sob some more. Insides turning to chaos
and I can no longer think straight, all I can see is that he’s leaving me alone ...again. After everything, all his promises, all he
said to me. How many times he swore he would never do this.
He’s doing it again.
“Here. Go to sleep. We’re drunk and I’m not doing this now.” He lets me go, makes to move away with a complete lack of
anything in his demeanor. The dead pan, emotionless dick head who hurt me so many times before. My lungs can barely inflate,
pain in my chest stabbing through me at unbearable levels and I want to hurt him even an ounce of how he hurts me.
I throw my shoes back at him, getting him in the jaw with one and following with another ‘Sophie crazy lash out’, hating him in
that moment. I see red and want to wound him like he wounds me. So many scars on this heart at his hands and I just can’t take
it anymore. Lashing out and aiming slaps at his face in uncontrolled hysterics. It’s like I’m possessed by some inner venomous
psycho and I can’t control myself.
My hand collides with flesh, stinging my skin, biting on my own lip as I put my full fury into an attack; gasping when he grabs me
by the wrists viciously, shoves me back hard and pins me to the brick wall of my stair, panting and angry in my face. Gripping me
so tight he hurts me in a way he never has, and I let out a little whimper of fear, gasping at the bite of his grip. The realization hits
me that I finally pushed him this far and start cowering away, regretting the impulsive need in me to always hurt, and now faced
with the consequences of doing it. The blood drains as my body runs cold and shocks me to instant silence and surrender, eyes
wide as I stare at him in complete terror.
It’s like a bulb goes off and his face drops suddenly. His grip on my wrists instantly loosen and his body and face lose that
terrifying ferociousness in a second of clarity.
“What are we doing? Look at us.” He lets go off my wrists and moves away from me gawping in horror at me, lifting his hands,
looking at them as though they are alien to him and then back at the red finger prints on my arms that are clearly visible in the
light. He looks instantly disgusted at himself, and I feel nauseous; that I could push him to hurt me, even if it was only in a grip.
I pushed him; I am always pushing him.
“This isn’t us...this isn’t me.” He seems shocked that he could, even if he only restrained me and I break my heart at the
expression on his face. “Maybe she’s right? Maybe we are toxic for each other?” He says numbly, mildly shocked, softly to

himself, more so than at me and no longer bristling with anger. He moves further back, and that part of me that tries to shield me
from pain finally, claws up and rears her bitchy head.
“So, go back to her then. You’re perfect little domestic housewife. You clearly had a much easier life with her.” I spit through tears
and racking breaths, rubbing my wrists to remove the burning feel of where he hurt me and hating that I’m doing this. Saying
what I don’t mean, wounding, biting out at him.
“You know what? I did... So much fucking easier than this.” He glares at me, no care as to whether his words hurt me anymore,
no hint of my Arry left inside. I have pushed him to the brink, and he’s looking at me like he could never love me anymore. It rips
me apart inside, so that I feel a part of me die.
“Then what’s stopping you? ... I clearly am not...Go! ... Fucking go!” I sob through panting breaths, as anxiety starts to cripple
my lungs, but I don’t want to show him my weakness. Venom in place of angst, scowls in place of sorrow. Self-defensive;
protecting myself from the pain he can and will inflict. “Why do you always choose her?” I blurt out almost in afterthought, head a
train wreck and no longer able to formulate any logic. He scowls so hard his eyebrows almost adhere to his lashes.
“Sophie! I always choose YOU, I’m sick of this bullshit over her. How can you even say that to me? All I do is show you that I
love you.” He growls at me, clenching fists in mid-air, snapping so suddenly that he makes me jump in fright, nervy and edgy and
afraid of his unpredictability.
“Why won’t you just cut all ties then?” I sob, pleading, wanting him to give me that one thing and needing it more than ever. It’s
what I need more than air, no matter how many times I try and fight it, try to reason with myself and convince myself that I’m
being immature. I will never let this go.
“I’ve been trying. You know I have; I don’t know how else to do it without being a complete asshole. You can’t fucking attack
people like that. You physically attacked her, Sophie.” He scrubs his face with his palms and paces in a circle before coming
back to face me, keeping his distance, still looking at me like he wants to throttle me and no longer knows me.
“She deserved it!” I yell in his face, refusing to back down when she’s the subject, still hating him for lying to me, for keeping
secrets. Head chaotic and gripping my hair in complete frustration. He makes me so crazy, like I can’t think straight, or breathe,
or stop this aching consuming pain inside of me.
“You need help. You’re not right in the head.” He leans into me, snarling it in my face in a manner that I would never associate
with him, venom in every word and I recoil as though he has slapped me in the face.

“Fuck you...fuck you.... I fucking hate you. How can you even say that to me?” I wail, a return to violent racking sobbing and he
doesn’t seem to care.
“Because you’re fucking crazy.” He shrugs, so coldly, so hatefully. I just see red and fly for him, aiming a slap at that smug face
that seems to spear me with a glaring scowl. He catches my hand mid hit and throws it aside, deflecting me with fast reflexes
and looks at me like I am nothing to him at all. I completely break.
“I don’t ever want to see you again. I don’t need you. I never fucking needed you. I won’t care if you go back to her. I want you to
go back to her...GO! FUCKING GO!!!” I turn into a blubbering mass of hysterical sobbing, pushed over the edge with one cruel
sentence from him. Killing every single ounce of my heart in one fell swoop and pushing him away with the force of a tsunami.
“I’m leaving anyway. Maybe this was something we should have never started.” He shrugs coldly, devoid of every emotion. A
stranger before me who turns his back on me and steps off the sidewalk onto the road without a backwards glance.
Arrick starts to walk away and I crumble, heart dissolving when faced with the reality that this is really over. Panic coursing
through me, even through the fog of crushing pain and tears. He’s leaving me, for real. Not a fight or a cool down. He’s leaving
me; for what I have done, what I said.
My Arry, my heart and soul, my haven; the love of my life. He’s had enough and he’s walking away from me, after all that he said
he would never do. My heart stops, my anger crashes and all that is left is that desolate pain of a little girl who always needed
him.
“I didn’t mean it. Arry? ... I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry...I do need you.” I sob and gasp, unable to control my breathing as panic hits
me hard in the chest. I follow him as he starts to move across the road, a whimpering pathetic version of myself, reaching out to
him. He keeps walking steadily, without looking back at me.
“Sometimes walking away is better for everyone. Go inside... I need breathing space, we both do. I need time to think.” He
sounds cold and detached, yet I still follow him, reaching out, scared that I know he means it, that this isn’t just a fight. Fingers
catching his jacket as he moves towards the cab. Suddenly back to childlike and afraid, vulnerable and in pain and reaching for
the one person who I need to save me. He always saved me; I need him to do it now.
“Don’t.... Don’t leave me alone.” I sob, clinging desperately to his clothes. He pushes my hand off with a backwards swipe and
gets in the awaiting vehicle, closing the door and turning away so he doesn’t even look at me. He taps the driver and keeps his
eyes and face turned forward, blocking me out, even when I place my palm so desperately on his window and let the tears fall
faster and harder. Struggling to breathe.

The car pulls away, leaving me standing in the street sobbing and alone, watching it fade into the distance with the most all-
consuming, breath winding pain, destroying what is left of my sanity. I throw my bag after the car and then sit down on the
sidewalk like a hopeless mess, trying to pull myself together before the panic attack makes me fully black out.