•To build a home•
"And I build a home
For you, for me
Until it disappeared"

The covers hug me heavily, snuggling around my body. The curtain keeps the sunlight outside, the room being left in complete darkness.

My eyes blink a few times. My heartbeat is irregular, too fast, while my body shivers even under the blankets. I can travel miles away, but apparently, my nightmares haunt me like a second shadow.

However, what really woke me up was the incessant vibration of my cell phone on the black nightstand. My breathing is loud, my senses gradually returning as my brain tries to understand that I'm back to the real world – I'm not drowning, I can breathe.

Breathe, Elena.

My hands throw the covers to the side, taking them off my face. My naked legs move on the mattress with some difficulty as I try to make blood flow to my extremities.

I lean on my elbows, my neck getting up. I turn my head to the side, watching the bright light from my cell phone illuminating the room. The device vibrates, a number flashing on the screen repeatedly.

I sigh, my locks swaying with the air coming out of my lips. And I throw myself against the pillow again, my eyes shut as one of my arms covers my face.

My heart rate slowly stabilizes. The hum of my blood pulsating in my ears subsides, being replaced by the incessant noise of someone calling me. I grunt, my hand rubbing my eyes.

I can see light sun's rays through the curtain, and I assume it's early in the morning.

The phone stops vibrating, a peaceful but dangerous silence embracing the environment. After five seconds of no sound, I breathe lighter, stretching my arms up.

But, because I am me, soon the vibration returns – Fuck my life. 

I roll my eyes, and my hand reaches towards the phone, wrapping it between my fingers to bring it to me. The strong luminosity makes me close my eyes for a second, my huge pajama's sleeve slipping up to my elbow.

I look at the number on the screen, knowing exactly who it is. My nail taps the screen near the green button. I really don't want to have to face this conversation right now – or ever, actually. But I know that if I don't answer it, the person will call other people and all my secrets will surface.

My finger was going to click the green button when the screen turns off, my eye relaxing now that the brightness is gone. I bring the phone closer to my face, my two hands trying to turn it back on, pressing all buttons, but nothing happens.

I throw the device to the other side of the bed, and I sit down, groaning. The duvet slips down my chest. My middle fingers run gently under my eyes.

I sit straighter, pushing the pillow against the headboard and leaning my head on the wall. No matter how many hours I got to sleep last night, I still feel so tired, and my throat is dry, scratching inside.

My body leans to the side, reaching for the water bottle. I take long sips, feeling the freshness running down my throat. My muscles relax a little and I don't shiver anymore. The nightmare is burying itself once more in the depths of my mind.

I bite my lip, wondering where exactly I have left my charger. I shook my head, agreeing that the discharging cell phone was a signal. I take a few more sips, emptying the glass bottle. Then, I leave the bottle on the wooden nightstand again, their contact echoing through the room.

The hotel phone is just a few inches away from my fingers, and my face frowns, in doubt what to do next.

My leg shakes up and down, my whole body feeling anxiety. But I close my eyes, suck in a breath and stretch out my hand. Bringing the black phone to me, my knees approaching my chest as I snuggle into the bed.

My eyes are glued observing the numbers, my fingers skirting the buttons, while I try to decide what to do. It's just a conversation; we're miles apart, it can't hurt me. Right?

And, well, it's not like I really have a choice here, knowing the person very well, I also know the calls aren't going to stop.

My throat closes as I bring the phone to my ear, my other hand clicking one button at a time, feeling my body shrink further against the headboard. I squeeze the last number and close my eyes, waiting for the impact.

The sound of the connection being completed resounds through my eardrum, and my fingers curl up on the phone cord, trying to calm my fast-beating heart. I wait for someone to answer, and the more time passes, the harder it is to breathe. When I thought I'd go to voicemail, I hear someone picking up and my body freezes for a second.

Here we go, and I sigh.

''Hi?'' the voice questions, certainly confused by the unknown number.

I clear my throat, trying to regain my voice. I inhale and find the courage to open my mouth, speaking softly, ''Hello.''

The voice on the other side is silent for a second and I can hear my heart beating in my ears. My lies swirl through my mind, stories and excuses curling up in my tongue, prepared to be told.

''Elena.'' My eyes shut when I notice the tone of accusation and disappointment. ''Finally, you remembered that I still exist.''

My head falls back, colliding against the wall as I look up. Of course, it was going to start with emotional blackmail.

''Mother.''

''You used to be better, Elena,'' she says, my name coming out with authority through her lips. And I laugh frustratedly, just now realizing how only two people are able to manage to make my name sound like poison – my dear mom and Ian.

''We spoke a few weeks ago. Please don't exaggerate it.'' My head falls forward, my chin brushing on my chest.

She sighs on the other side of the line and I picture her squeezing the bridge of her nose. ''It's been almost three months.''

My mouth hangs open. I don't know what to answer as my mind tries to remember our last real conversation. It can't be that long, can it? The last six months have blended into a complete blur, and my heart tightens as I think about how the fuck I've allowed myself to lose so much.

''I...'' My voice disappears in the middle, there are no answers for her. No good answers, at least. And I'm not going to tell my mom the whole truth right now, by a phone call.

''If you're going to lie to me, don't even start, Elena.'' Her lawyer's tone floats through my ears and I roll my eyes, feeling like a teenager again. ''How's life?'' she asks more delicately now.

Always direct and short; Rebecca Bernardi, the federal prosecutor - my dear mom.

''You know, a lot of work. I'm performing more operations now and I am in the path to become chief resident as well.'' The words run through my mouth, and I'm happy to have answered her honestly.

Half-truths are still truths. Right?

''Good. I'm glad to know you're working hard,'' she says, proudly. And I already know exactly what her next sentence will be, babbling the words alongside her. ''Hard work is the only way to achieve greatness.''

My face frowns at the end. God forbid if I'm not as close to perfection as possible. I have to be great, as she always says.

''And how is the busy life of a federal prosecutor?'' I ask, trying to change the topic of our conversation.

''I have a stack of cases and a lot of incompetent new lawyers. I don't know how most of them passed their bar exam.'' I can hear papers being flipped as she speaks and I imagine she's sitting in her office, located in the country's dry capital.

A smile opens on my face as I hear her complaining, and as much as this woman may be unbearable sometimes, she is the only mother I have. I even miss her rough style some days, just wishing that she could be a tad more caring.

''But I didn't call to talk about my work.'' I groan, knowing what is coming next. ''It's been almost a year, Elena. What special thing are you going to do?''

''Mom...''

''If it's a matter of money, I can help. I really don't understand why you would cancel the trip to Greece without a further explanation,'' she interrupts me, and I bite my lip.

I feel the bitter taste of the lies swimming in my mouth and I know I'll have to start telling them now, which is not very easy to do against the trained instincts of a big lawyer, but I have years of experience. ''Money is not a problem. We're just focused on work now. Ian is trying to get a promotion and I'm in the middle of my residency.''

Saying his name out loud causes a pang of pain to spread through my chest, and I need to swallow a lump.

''You also said you were going to visit me around March with some good news, but out of nowhere, the plans changed. Is everything really all right?''  Her tone is slightly worried and I feel myself shrinking, wanting to be swallowed by the bed as my fingers tightly curl up the phone cord.

''Yes, mom. We couldn't be happier. It's just that the work has accumulated and time has gone by, we didn't even notice it. And I promise to visit you soon, maybe on your birthday in October?'' I'm glad my voice comes out casual, calm even.

She's silent for a few seconds, sure analyzing every word I have just said. And I can totally picture her right now - her brown hair brushing her shoulders; her plump lips painted in a nude shadow; her delicate features intensely staring at her office's window. We are very much alike and my mom aged well, she is a beautiful woman with a broken heart and impetuous eyes.

''I would love that. You really are perfect for each other, Elena.'' I bite hard my lip, the bitter taste in my mouth sipping down my throat. ''He's great for you. I honestly was worried during your teenage years when you started to drift away. But in college, he showed up and you're back to being my perfect daughter. Ian is a son to me; I was even about to call him after so long without hearing from you two.''

''Please don't bother him, mom,'' I say quickly, keeping my tone trivial, but inside I'm begging her to listen to me and not get in touch with him. The last thing I need is her discovering the failure I've become. ''He's really very stressed at the moment. But I'll let him know you sent him a kiss; he loves you too.''

Lies run down my lips like honey. And I have no doubts that one day I'll find myself drowning in my secrets. But between drowning in my own words or in the judgment of others, I choose the former any day – better to be a fake perfect girl than to have everyone openly seeing my flaws.

''You two need to find time off so much work and get pregnant soon. You're not getting any younger, Elena.''

My stomach turns, a discomfort spreading through my nerves, and I want to scream. However, I swallow, struggling to keep my voice stabilized. ''Mom,''.

''No, Elena. I was your age when I got pregnant and I found a way to balance both situations, work and motherhood. Trust me, you don't want to get pregnant after you are much older. You need to be young and vigorous to raise a good family.''

A perfect family, she means.

''And two children. That's the ideal. Your father and I should have had one more, but we were fools to let time pass.'' I notice a slight nostalgia in her tone and my eyes get damp at the mention of my dad.

She's never talked much about him and, fuck, it hurts. It still hurts.

No matter how much I hate her for handling everything the way she did, I can't deny that she taught me to be strong. One step after another; chin raised; being unstoppable.

I just wish I could show her in return how you can be strong, even also being completely vulnerable.

''I know, mom,'' I say, my voice breaking. ''But two more years won't hurt me. I just want to get closer to finishing the residency, that is all.''

The lie comes out coldly. I don't say about my IUD and how it lasts for four more years. Or about the genetic test. Much less about so many other secrets, so many other situations that happened in the middle.

Every day that goes by, I only have more certainty that I will never be again the perfect daughter my mother dreams of so much.

But I don't think any of us are, the universe doesn't allow it, and that's why it took my father from us. That's ehyvit destroyed Ian and me - or I did it, crashing our entire perfect relationship.

And I just wish for a hug from my mom right now.

''You know what you're doing, Elena. Or I hope so, at least.'' Her voice comes out tired, but I realize the slight comfort and support behind her speech. ''I'll have free time after finishing a big case I am working on. Maybe I can visit my favorite daughter for a few days?'' she says, more cheerful and casual now.

I'm your only daughter. But I don't disagree and I even smile a little. That's the best enthusiasm I can get from her anyway. However, her visiting me is not the best thing for a while, not until I decide how to explain the whole situation to her.

Or maybe I'll just explain parts of it. That would be better, right? But again, I doubt that the excellent lawyer would accept half explanations without questioning every little detail. I'm so in deep shit right now.

''Hmm, of course. It would be amazing.'' I try to sound natural, happy. ''I really need to go, mom. I have rounds to finish.''

''Don't disappear for months again, Elena. At least answer my messages,'' she says, accusingly. ''Preferably, with answers that are more than one syllable.'' I roll my eyes, completely going back to be sixteen again.

''I promise, mom. Bye.'' I love you.

''Bye. I..., have a good day, Elena.''

The call ends and I find myself being embraced by silence. Just now I realize how tight I was holding the phone, my fingers getting slightly numb. I take the device out of my ear, my hair quickly taking its position, brushing my face.

I guide the phone to the hook resting on my knees. My fingers untwist from the cord, white marks staying for a while on my skin.

There's relief that the conversation has come to an end. But also, the bitter taste of all my lies remains in my mouth.

I honestly don't know how I could do it so easily as a teenager. Not that I rebelled too much, but I had my little moments. My first boyfriend sure wouldn't meet my mother's standards – maybe that's why I chose him?

I also avoided telling her any academic failure or juvenile drama, knowing her judging gaze very well and how it can make even a grown man cry on his knees.

My mother learned from my grandmother how to be a strong woman. And to achieve it, appearances matter. The family tradition passed on to me, obviously. I've been aiming for perfection since I was a kid, but I also longed for my own identity in my teenage years.

In college, I met Chloe and allowed myself to loosen up a little bit. Then Ian showed up and, as my mother said herself, a part of me went back to being the daughter she wanted so badly.

But now, my identity built for so many years seems to be cracking down. And I don't know how to be the old me again. I really feel like fifteen-year-old Elena once more, just trying to find myself.

I throw the phone on the nightstand, and I grab the pillow next to me, sinking my face into it. A smothered scream comes out of me as I shake my legs against the mattress.

Argh!

I hold the pillow against my chest now, looking around the room. I really don't want to be swimming all day in my thoughts and past. I set the covers aside and decide to hunt down my cell phone charger.

I need to see where I agreed to eat a late lunch with Akira. And internally, I hope that they serve a lot of drinks there. I feel like being a little rebel today.

——•:•——
HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE CHAPTER. DON'T FORGET TO VOTE. THANKS FOR READING

-I know most of you were thinking it would be Ian calling (and he is also trying to get hold of Elena, we will see more of him in the far future), but today we saw actually more of her mom!!!!

•What are your thoughts about Elena's mom?

*this chapter is dedicated to the amazing KelsaDixon for inspiring me and being so supportive

[Sneak peek chapter 10: Well, well, it will be Friday for us and everyone knows how sometimes girls just wanna have fun. We will see Akira and our dear Elena getting loose and gossiping a lot. Can't wait.]