Bab 20: I hope she will accept

As I sank into the passenger seat of Daniel's car, my irritation was palpable. The encounter with Carmen had left me feeling unsettled, and now, being with Daniel only amplified my annoyance. He seemed oblivious to my mood as he started the engine and pulled away from the curb.

"So, who was that woman? She looked kind of intense," Daniel asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

I didn't even bother to look at him. "Just get me back to my house," I replied curtly, closing my eyes and leaning back against the headrest. His questions were the last thing I wanted to deal with right now.

As the car moved through the city streets, my thoughts drifted back to Carmen. Her actions today had been so out of character, at least from what little I knew of her. The Carmen Steele I'd knew of was cold, calculating, and distant.

But the woman who had intervened outside the restaurant seemed almost... concerned. It was confusing, and I couldn't make sense of it.

We pulled up in front of my house, and I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt, eager to escape the confined space with Daniel. Just as I opened the door, he reached out and grabbed my arm. "Can I get a kiss?"

I looked at him, my irritation flaring again. "No," I said firmly, pulling my arm free and stepping out of the car.

I walked up the pathway to the front door, where my mother was waiting with a smirk on her face. Great, just what I needed. "You shouldn't treat your fiancé like that, Elena," she said, her tone dripping with faux concern. "He's a good match for you."

"I don't care," I snapped back, my patience wearing thin. "I didn't ask for your opinion."

Her smirk faded, replaced by a scowl. "You need to stop acting like a spoiled child. This is your future we're talking about."

"And maybe I don't want a future with him," I retorted, pushing past her and heading up to my room. The argument was the same every time, and I was tired of it.

Once in my room, I shut the door behind me and let out a frustrated sigh. I needed a distraction, something to take my mind off everything. I grabbed my phone and opened Instagram, scrolling through the endless stream of photos of models and influencers.

I glanced at my own profile, which only had one post. I should probably add another one soon, but I just didn't have the energy for it right now.

An idea struck me, and before I could second-guess it, I found myself typing "Carmen Steele" into the search bar. Sure enough, a verified account appeared at the top of the results. It had over a million followers, but interestingly, she wasn't following anyone. Typical Carmen, I thought. Always maintaining that air of untouchable aloofness.

The account was private, which wasn't surprising. Still, I found myself hesitating. Did I really want to follow her? What if she didn't accept? I replayed our conversation from earlier in my mind.

"Do you want to grab a coffee or something?" Her words echoed, and despite everything, I felt a flicker of something—hope, maybe.

Before I could overthink it, I tapped the follow button. "I hope she will accept," I murmured to myself, setting the phone down and trying to ignore the strange flutter of nerves in my stomach.

Just as I was starting to calm down, the door to my room burst open, and Clara, my younger sister, barged in, a scowl mirroring our mother's plastered across her face.

"Elena, how could you talk to Mom like that?" she exclaimed, her tone accusatory.

I rolled my eyes, already bracing myself for another round of family drama. "What's it to you, Clara?"

"It's everything to me because you're making us all look bad," she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh please, spare me the lecture," I scoffed, turning away from her. "I'm not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood to listen, are you?" Clara snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "You're always so selfish, thinking only about yourself and what you want."

"And you're always so eager to please Mom and Dad, aren't you?" I shot back, unable to bite my tongue any longer. "Do you ever stop to think about what you want?"

"I do what's best for the family," Clara retorted, her voice trembling with anger. "Unlike you, who only cares about tearing us apart."

I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief. "You know what? I'm done with this conversation. Just leave me alone."

Clara stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her, leaving me alone once again with my thoughts and the unsettling feeling that things were only going to get worse before they got better.

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