Then - Michael

A knock on the door captures my attention and I hurriedly dash to it, expecting the pizza I ordered twenty minutes ago. 

Instead, I am met with a distraught Ella with mascara running down her face from tears that just keep pouring from her beautiful, green eyes. She's wearing the same clothes she left in and is holding a large duffle bag over her shoulder. A sob escapes from her throat as soon as she looks up and sees me, shaking her entire body. I immediately step towards her and wrap my arms around her thin frame. 

"Hey, what happened?" I whisper into her hair as I rub my hand up and down her back in an attempt to calm her. 

"I-I didn't have your number or I would have c-called first." She stutters into my chest, her words muffled. 

"It's fine. What happened?" I ask again, anger filling me at the sight of her like this. I just want to make everything better and hurt whoever did this to her. 

"M-my dad kicked me o-out!" She wails. She digs her nails into my shirt, holding onto me with everything she's got. I hold onto her tighter, trying to offer her the comfort I know she's looking for.

"I don't have anywhere to go. I can't go to my mother's. She's the reason he kicked me out." She says through tears. "I don't know what to do, Mike."

"You stay here," I tell her before taking the bag from her. I throw it over my shoulder and then take her hand to lead her inside. "You can stay here with my mom and me. She won't care."

"I-I can't do that. I can't impose like that."

I chuckle. "You are staying here and that's final, Ella," I say, shaking my head when she opens her mouth to argue. I lead her into the living room and sit on the couch, pulling her into the spot next to me. 

She instantly leans into me, her eyes close as she sinks deeper into my chest. "Why did he kick you out?" I ask quietly, trying not to upset her more. 

"He thinks I'm my mom." She whispers. "He was really drunk. Like really drunk. More so than usual. And he kept calling me a whore - a cheating whore like my mother. She really fucked him up."

"What do you mean?"

She sighs. "He found her sleeping with another man when he came home from work early a couple weeks ago. He kicked her out instantly." She says. "And I look just like her."

I nod my head. "I see. I guess I can see how he would get confused." I say. "But that doesn't excuse the fact that he kicked you out."

"He also put his hands on me." She whispers so quietly, I almost don't hear her.

Almost.

I clench my jaw and turn my hands into fists, trying to hold back the urge to go shoot the man she calls her father.

"He's hasn't done that in a really long time. He's always been a loving dad, even though he's a drunk." She continues. "He has always done his best to keep his temper away from us kids.

"He's just so fucked up since mother left. And I'm the only one who stayed with him. I couldn't live with that woman after everything she's done. Like, who cheats on their spouse? If you aren't happy in your relationship, fucking leave. Don't cheat. That's selfish and cruel." She says. "I fucking hate her."

"You don't-"

"No." She interjects. "I do. I've always hated her. I hate how weak she was to just let him do the things he did all these years. I hate how she always made excuses for him whenever he let us down. I hate how she cheated on him instead of leaving him. I hate how she didn't fight for me to go with her when he kicked her out. I hate how when I called her two hours ago, she couldn't even bother listening to what I had to say. No, she was too busy with Edgar to fucking listen to her own daughter.

"I hate her guts."

"She's your mother, Ella." 

"She is no mother, Mike. She has never been and never will be." She says before pulling away from me. "Is your mother okay?"

I furrow my brows. "What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

"I ran into her when I left. Literally. We fell to the floor and I couldn't get her to get up again, so I kinda just left her there." 

I laugh. "Yeah, that's my mom," I say.

Silence surrounds us for a moment, wrapping around us like a soft, comfortable blanket. It isn't uncomfortable - even though it's thick. It allows us a moment to collect our thoughts, something that I think Ella needs as I watch her bite her lip while looking at the patterned linoleum at our feet. 

"We both have fucked up families." She finally says. "If you can even call them that."

"Yeah." I agree, before shooting her a comforting smile. "But at least we got each other. I'll be your family, Ella. And I promise you that will never change."