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It’s raining outside. People walk around with their umbrellas high. It looks like a parade of color, almost like the Vegas sky at night with the clash of luminous color and neon lights.
Across the street I spot someone rushing with a bright pink umbrella that looks more like a parasol the ladies would carry in Georgian times in the South.
It’s Chloe. Even in the rain, she looks amazing. Stylish in her beige mac coat and black Hunter boots.
The door jingles when she pushes it open and she rushes inside.
Her eyes land on me and I stand to greet her as she makes her way over.
She puts the umbrella away and hugs me hard. I don’t care that her hair is a little damp or for the speckle of rainwater that catches my cheek. The warmth of friendship envelopes me with love and I find refuge in her, the way I should if I were normal and didn’t seek it in this man I barely know.
That was it.
I realize that was it somewhere in the middle of the night.
The why question.
When Nick touches me I forget everything and become this person I never knew existed.
When he touches me I’m not this version of myself who feels like a failure. Who’s had life rough for the last few months but it feels like years.
When he touches me I forget how helpless I am to what has been happening all around me.
He makes me forget.
“Mia, you okay?” Chloe asks taking hold of my shoulders.
I shrug. I don’t want to admit that realistically I’m not okay because it feels like it will take away some element of last night that I don’t want to forget.
“Is it okay if I say I don’t know?” I raise my shoulders again and stare at her.
“Come on sit. Talk to me, tell me everything.”
We sit, I draw in a deep, deep steady breath and as I exhale the words flow.
I start talking and she listens.
By the time I finish I think an hour or so has passed and we’ve been there so long the barista comes over to ask us if she can get us anything else.
I order two hot chocolates. One for Chloe and another for me.
The worry returns to Chloe’s face when the barista goes away, but there’s a hint of fascination. It’s from the sex stories I shared. Not what I saw in the club. My own.
Me with sex stories. It reminds me of when I told her I lost my virginity.
Of course I was at Harvard at the time and I’d just met Chad. I was nineteen.
Miss Chloe however had lost hers at sixteen and it was to a guy who was ten years older than her. She would never reveal his name to anyone, except me, because he was her Dad’s business partner. Of course she wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone, also because it would have landed his ass behind bars.
She had this secret affair with him for close to two years and they ended it before she left for college. My petty story of losing my virginity was nothing in comparison to that.
My stories of last night though make up for everything big time.
“Okay… let’s do this.” She brings her hands together. “Before I bitch at you for not telling me what happened with Hector and your dad, let’s talk about Nick.”
I hang my head down. “There’s so much.”
“Yes there is and you know how I feel about the whole situation.”
