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I couldn’t bear to look at her. As much as I wanted to hate her, I couldn’t. She was clearly sick.
Once they were gone, I jumped in my car, racing to get to Mia’s dorm. If she wouldn’t take any of my calls or answer any of my messages, my only choice was to try to talk to her in person.
If only Mia would just let me talk to her and explain, then everything would be cleared up. She’d see that it was all a misunderstanding, but when I got there, Mia didn’t answer the door.
“What do you want?” her roommate, Jill spat at me.
“Please just let me talk to Mia,” I pleaded trying to look around her to see if Mia was there.
“Mia isn’t here.” Jill tried to slam the door shut, but I put my hand on it.
“Please. Tell me where she is. If she’s here, tell her I’m here.” My voice began to unravel. “I love her. Please.”
Jill glowered at me with fury in her eyes. “I’m not going to tell you anything about Mia. What you did to her is unforgivable!”
“None of it is true!” I pleaded, but Jill slammed the door shutting me out.
How was I going to get Mia back if I couldn’t even see her, and she refused to take my calls?
Chapter 22
Mia
After reading the minutes from the Board meeting, I was inconsolable. Depression descended on me like thick gray clouds and wouldn’t let me go. Three days went by and I hardly got out of bed, only to use the bathroom and drink sips of water.
Jill sat on the edge of my bed, pleading for me to eat. None of the food she had snuck out of the cafeteria looked enticing enough. Sweet Jill even picked out all the marshmallows in a Lucky Charms box into a bowl hoping I’d nibble on the crunchy morsels. When that didn’t work, she piled Danish pastries on my desk.
But I just couldn’t eat. My appetite had dried up just like the love between Theo and me. There was just nothing left.
She told me that Theo had come by a f
ew times begging to see me, but I never wanted to see him again. Jill was a good friend like that, blocking him from getting to me and supporting my decision.
Most of my time in bed, I let myself tumble into the bliss of sleep. Asleep, I couldn’t feel the ache in my chest and the uselessness of my grief. Asleep, my mind didn’t wander to the video of Theo with Penny. It was burned into my memory.
After the third day of seclusion, Jill pressed me to go back home. She even bought me the ticket and drove me to airport. By then, I was too weak to refuse, too mired in my sadness to object to my best friend’s requests.
Back home in Carpinteria, my mood slowly improved. Simply being out of Berkeley helped. There was nothing in my hometown to remind me of Theo. The ache in my body still throbbed with sadness, but the acute pain had waned. My mother saw how sallow and pale I looked upon my arrival. It was easy to stay in bed and tell her that I was just sick with a cold.
Brandon had written me an email asking if everything was okay. My response was vague and noncommittal saying that I was still not well. I’d considered working remotely to help my team out, but my mother forbade it demanding I take a full rest: mind and body.
A full week went by before bringing out the envelope that contained information on my father’s whereabouts. After running out of Pictogram the day Penny sent me the video, I ran back to Theo’s to grab a few things, one of which was the private investigator’s findings of my father.
My mother sat in the kitchen sipping coffee when I emerged from my room, holding the envelope. “Good morning, sunshine!” she said greeting me with a warm hug. The sun was streaming in through the windows and lit up her auburn hair beautifully. She looked so happy. It saddened me that what I was going to tell her might change that.
“Good morning, Mom,” I said sitting down at the kitchen table to a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. “Thanks for breakfast.” It looked delicious, but my appetite hadn’t yet completely returned.
My mom smiled and patted my hand. “Of course! I missed having you home.”
I placed the envelope on the table. My mom looked at it and said, “What’s that? Something from school?”
“I have something to tell you.” My voice trembled when I spoke.
My mom, noticing the change in my voice, put down her mug of coffee. “What is it, Mia?”
“Mom, I want you to know that I am truly grateful for everything you have done for me, for raising me on your own. I never felt like I was ever missing out on anything because I had you.”
My mom’s eyes looked bleary as I talked. “Of course, honey. I love you.”
