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Mia scooted closer to me, her hand resting against my back and her face close to mine. “I’m sorry…I know how much it must hurt.”
“It was a long time ago and she seems fine with it, but…it kills me inside. I want to kill the man who did this to her. He’s already dead because my father took care of that, but that’s not enough justice.”
“It’s not.”
“She was the one comforting me…when I should have been the one comforting her. I told her I was proud of her for being so strong, for not letting that experience sabotage the rest of her life. She refused to let that evil defeat her. Most people don’t have that kind of strength.”
Mia smiled. “I’m sure that meant a lot to her.”
“I think it did. I’m proud to call her my mother, even more than I was before. But it still kills me inside.”
She rubbed my back. “I know.”
“I wish I had been a man then like I am now. I could have protected her. I could have made sure nothing ever happened to her. If something were to happen today, I would mutilate the guy stupid enough to try.”
“I’m sure she knows that, Carter.”
“It’ll take a while for me to get over this…”
“That’s understandable.”
I stared at the carpet beneath our feet, feeling this beautiful woman comfort me with her touch. “She said she was proud of me for helping you. Said it’s exactly what she would have wanted me to do.”
“She should be proud of you,” she whispered.
I didn’t tell Mia everything else that was said, keeping that to myself. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Mia, and I wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about me. She was affectionate with me, but that didn’t mean her feelings went deeper than that. She certainly didn’t expect anything from me, always said I would end up with someone else.
“I’m glad you aren’t angry with me. I was afraid of what was going to happen when you walked into the room.”
“I was angry at first, but after our conversation, I understood. Talking to my mom seemed to make everything better, bring us closer together.” I turned toward Mia, seeing the pretty brown hair frame her face. “She really likes you.”
“We have a lot in common. I really like her too.”
Mia was the first woman I had slept with to have ever met my mother. I wasn’t sure if that meant anything or meant nothing at all. My hand moved to her thigh, and I gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“It’s not even five yet…”
“I know.” I rose to my feet. “I just want to be alone right now.” I couldn’t digest everything my mother said without feeling like I’d been punched in the stomach. I walked to the door, eager to get to my stash of scotch in my bedroom.
“Are you sure?”
I turned around at the sound of her hurt voice. I saw the concern in her eyes, the overwhelming sadness she felt toward me. “I understand if you want to be alone… I just thought I could be alone with you.”
I thought back to what my mother said, that Mia’s feelings for me were similar to mine for her. It was more than just simple affection and sexual attraction. There was a deeper connection between us, unexplored feelings that neither one of us touched. “You want to be alone with me?”
She stepped forward, the emotion burning in her eyes. “More than anything else in the world.”
The hours passed as we lay together in my bed. There was no sex and no talking. She was in her panties and bra, and I was stripped down to my boxers. Despite the sight of her nakedness, I wasn’t in the mood to drag the strap off her shoulder and reveal that perfect tit.
I wasn’t in the mood for anything.
Mia didn’t speak, knowing I preferred the company of silence. But she ran her fingers through my hair, rubbed my sore muscles, and comforted me with her feminine touch. Her perfume surrounded me, and my hand brushed against her thigh a few times. Sometimes I would drink my scotch. Sometimes I would light up a cigar.
She didn’t protest either one.
I knew I shouldn’t be depressed over something that happened decades ago. I hadn’t even been conceived yet. It didn’t seem like the past still had any hold over my mother. It was so long ago that she’d made her peace with it.
But could I make my peace with it?
If I’d known the truth before I met Mia, I knew I would have behaved differently.
Now I hated myself for the way I acted. I got Mia out of the situation eventually, but that was only because I was screwing her. My first instinct should have been to save her, not trick her into trying to escape so I could have her, so I could hurt her.
