She huffs, slipping on her top before locating her panties. “Listen, I know during a lust-filled chat people say random things they don’t mean. We said two months. Let’s keep things friendly and—"
“I'm gonna cut you off right there. One, we said three months, not two. Two, I’m not gonna kick you out the second I come, so if you could remove all that again that would be great.” I point down to her clothes. “Three, I like you, a fucking lot. I like spending time with you. So if you think the next three months we’re just going to fuck and do nothing else, then this is not going to work for me.”
She stares for a moment, her eyes wide, her mouth parting.
“I just thought—”
“I know what you thought. And I know someone hurt you. I know that. But I’m not that person, and I’m just asking you to give me a chance to prove it to you.”
She doesn’t move, doesn’t respond, and it’s not until I reach out and squeeze her hand that I see a small tremble in her chin. I wish I could find out everything that happened to her so I could undo every single thing. Every thought about herself and how she thinks someone will treat her.
“I don’t understand why you’re being so nice to me. You got what you wanted,” she whispers.
“Wait—what?” A tight knot forms in my chest making it hard to breathe. Surely she doesn’t think that low of me.
She shakes her head, her voice small when she says, “I’m gonna go home. I just need to shower and get ready for the week, okay? I just need a bit of space.”
I take a strained breath before responding. I genuinely don’t think this is about me. I need to be patient with her as she works through this. “You can do whatever you want, Mia. But don’t put words in my mouth. I want you to stay here with me. We couldhang out, have dinner. But it’s fine if you want to leave too,” I say softly. “I want you to be comfortable when we’re together. I want you to always be comfortable.”
“Okay…I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hesitates for a second. Her features flinch with a memory of pain and dismissal I obviously don’t understand. Without another word, she slips on her skirt, grabs her boots, and heads downstairs.
I want to chase after her. Tell her that she’s all I’ve been able to think about. Her laugh, her ability to predict my every move even when I don’t know what I’m doing one minute to the next. She’s funny, smart,fucking beautiful. She should know this. She needs to know this.
As I hear the click of the door and lie back on the bed, I wonder how the best moment of my fucking year could end like that.
Chapter Twenty-One
Mia
“Oh my God,” I squeal. “I haven’t spoken to you in weeks, how the hell are you?”
Lana’s face fills my screen, and even though her face keeps freezing, it’s the happiest I’ve felt in the last few days.
“Hey, girl. I’m good, I’m good. How’s things at home?” She smiles, but it’s a little flat, her pink hair dull and growing out.
“Umm, yeah, okay here. I miss you. My Saturday coffees aren’t the same without you. I’ve resorted to eating twice as many pastries as normal.”
“A sensible coping mechanism.”
“It could be drugs.”
“You’re right. Or an expensive book-buying habit.”
We laugh, given that Lana loves reading and even though she uses her e-reader, she ends up buying the physical copy most of the time for her bookshelf. It’s a reward for finishing a book. Utterly unmanageable, but as previously noted, it could be drugs.
We both sigh audibly, our faces dropping before realizing the other had done the exact same thing. Giggling, we both yell at the same time.
“YOU FIRST!”
“You’re the one that’s away, you should go first. I can assure you it’s way more interesting than what’s going on here,” I lie, knowing that Lana will flip out when I tell her about me and Alfie after I’ve had a crush on him for three years.
“I won’t lie to you, Mia. It’s much harder than I had anticipated. There’s been a lasting impact of Hurricane Maria in 2017. Despite it being years later, the death toll was just so high, not everyone was accounted for. And then COVID happened. The country just didn’t have enough time to recover. The mental toll has been perpetuated by the physical toll. On top of that, you have your run-of-the-mill problems and traumas that everyone endures. It’s been a steep learning curve and a total eye-opener, but truthfully—” She pauses for a moment, lowering her voice. “I don’t think this is what I’m able to do long term.”
She bites her lip, looking away from the camera, her head dipping low. She’s always wanted to be a save-the-world kind of therapist, so I’m surprised but try to mask it so she doesn’t think I’m judging her.
“That’s fine, Lana. You’re allowed to change your mind about what you want to do in life.”
“I know, I just…my dad got me an interview, but it’s doing something I never thought I’d do.”
