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Mia Miller: That I’m twenty-three and not ready to be a mom.
I blew out a long breath.
Mia was getting way fucking ahead of herself, and the idea that she was already thinking about not only ‘us’ staying together for the long term, but her integrating into my life was… I was freaking out a little. My heart was hammering in anticipation of all the things I wanted to do with her, and adding the kids to that… Holy hell, the idea lit in my brain like a tire fire, and I couldn’t let it go. But it scared the ever living shit out of me, too.
Me: Does that mean you want to keep me? Those are heavy thoughts when we’ve only been together for a matter of a week.
Mia Miller: I know that. I know it and yet it doesn’t change anything. It’s why I’m scared.
Me: You don’t need to be scared.
Mia Miller: I’m scared because I see this going somewhere, and my heart is latching onto you for dear life, but my brain is yelling at me to slow the heck down because it’s too much, too soon. I understand that. But again, it doesn’t change the way I feel.
Me: You mean how you love me? And how I love you?
Writing those words was like ripping a sliver out of my literal heart. It hurt like hell, but it was relieving to get it out there.
Mia Miller: Yes.
Me: And so, what? It’s all or nothing?
Mia Miller: That’s how it feels in my chest. I want to give you everything that I am, but I’m terrified that you don’t want it.
Did I want it? Did I want what she was offering?
She was right, it felt like way too much, way too soon. People didn’t make decisions of permanency after only one week. But at the same time, did the timing really matter if I was already sure that I loved her?
My idiot heart pitter pattered over that.
Love.
I’d been positive that I would never experience the heady feeling in my life. Even with Paula, it had been fun, exciting, and we’d been a good pair, but love had nothing to do with it. Not really. Sure, I’d thought it was love at first when we got married, but I soon realized that infatuation was a whole different beast than the ‘L’ word.
The feeling made me breathless, reckless.
Me: Do you want to meet them?
I must have been going fucking insane.
It was a good four minutes before she answered. I knew that because I’d stared at my phone screen and watched each minute tick by until she wrote back.
Mia Miller: Yes, but not yet. I need to get to know you more, first.
Me: Tell me when.
There was another pause in which I threw in the towel for the night and gave up on writing, heading to my bedroom, instead.
Mia Miller: Do you believe in God?
Me: That’s a tricky question.
Mia Miller: Not really. You do or you don’t.
Shit, I felt like it was a trick question.
Me: I’m not sure. My parents weren’t really religious, so I don’t have much experience with it. Do you?
Mia Miller: I do.
