March 26, 2007
When you feel down and low, love will ease your sorrow.
Twenty minutes passed before Rachelle heard a knock on her bedroom door. She didn’t answer because of the shame she felt after what she said in her mother’s face.
Ten seconds of silence and she thought Vivian had already left when her mother suddenly said, “Do you honestly think I’d believe you when you said you hated me?”
No answer.
“It may not seem like it, but I know what you’re thinking right now, Rach. You don’t want to hurt any of your loved ones and that’s why you’re trying to solve this problem on your own.”
A cell phone rings.
“Hi, Betty,” Rachelle said in a soft, composed voice.
“Hey,” her agent replied. “I don’t know if this is a good time but I thought you need to know asap.”
Rachelle heard a note of indecision in Bettina’s voice and experienced a sense of dread.
“What is it, Bettina?”
Her booker had always been a messenger of good news and uncertainty was never part of their conversation.
“The agency just told me to hold off any project for you.”
Rachelle’s fist tightened around her phone.
“Go on.”
“The recent incidents were brought to their attention and the clients didn’t want a scandalous endorser. They were now choosing between Jessica Kirsch and Ayako Mendoza. I’m sorry, Rach. I tried to convince them but there’s only so much I could do,” Bettina ended miserably.
Five seconds passed before Rachelle could gather enough strength to speak.
“Okay. Thanks.”
She hung up before Bettina could answer.
And the end of her world was now complete.
Tears began to flow from her eyes without her realizing it. She wanted to scream and wail and howl from the pain of being judged—being abandoned.
She must have done exactly that because ten seconds later, Vivian burst into her room and found her in the corner of her bed, sitting with her arms around her knees, her face bowed and hidden from the rest of the world.
Rachelle felt the mattress move as it caught Vivian’s weight.
“For once, honey. Be weak and let me be stronger for you,” Vivian’s motherly voice gently resounded amidst Rachelle’s soft cries.
Rachelle had tried to act tough and independent for so long that hearing her mother’s willingness to carry the burden for her was enough to make her break down all her defenses. She got out of her protective ball and jumped to hug her mother.
“I’m sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Rachelle repeated over and over.
Vivian allowed her daughter to cry on her lap as she ran her hand on Rachelle’s hair—just as she did when Rachelle was seven, sobbing over spilled ice cream.
Rachelle sighed.
Each stroke of her mother’s hand seemed to slowly lift the burden out of her back. And that was enough encouragement.
YOU ARE READING
Secret Diaries (Heartlake Cliche #1)
Teen FictionEveryone has secrets. Rachelle Harlow is Heartlake City's favorite playgirl. She's got that seductive, sweet smile that has melted the hearts of all her nine ex-boyfriends. She has the city on her hands and dozens of boys worship every page and vide...
