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“Well, yeah. Neither of them is the type to hold grudges. And I think it would be really fucking weird for a long time, but they’d eventually get used to it. We’re still us.”
Leaving her arms, I return to the eggs, grabbing some cheese and ham out of the fridge before I resume scrambling. Glancing up at her, I feel a sense of peace for the moment as the guilt fades.
She’s here in my apartment in the middle of the afternoon and I’m cooking for her, and nothing feels weird or wrong, and it’s become obvious to me that while I tried to say I didn’t want a girlfriend, that seems to be what I got anyway.
Moments later, I scoop her omelet onto the plate and carry it to the table for her. She must have worked up an appetite because she eats every bite, and I watch her, a feeling of pride washing over me as she does.
She yawns while I’m cleaning the kitchen up and the next time I turn around, she’s gone. I find her curled up in my bed, already asleep by the time I enter the room. Standing in the doorway, I watch her sleep, replaying every moment of the last month that led to this.
For fifteen years, I’ve known Mia. And while I loved her in my own weird way the entire time, there was never anything more. For so long, nothing. Then suddenly, there was everything.
Just like that.
Standing there watching her, so peaceful and content, I tell myself that I can really do this for her. I can keep it together. I can be good—be happy. Shield her from the darkness, until it all fades away. People have overcome worse.
With that, I crawl into bed next to her. As I pull the covers up, she turns, nuzzling her body against my chest. She’s breathing heavily as I press a kiss to her forehead.
“Love you, Kitten,” I whisper, but she doesn’t respond, already too deep in her dreams.
RULE #30: MOMS KNOW EVERYTHING
Garrett
My mom is sleeping in a chair next to Paul’s bed when I deliver her dinner. It’s almost nine, and since Mia was still sleeping, I figured it would be safe to step out for a little bit, just to check on things at the hospital.
“Hey, Mom.” I gently nudge her shoulder after setting down the sub sandwich I picked up at the deli for her. She stirs awake and glances at Paul in a panic, but he’s still sleeping soundly.
“He’s fine. I just brought you something to eat.”
“Oh…thanks, sweetie. How’s Mia?”
“She’s good. Napping at my place. What did the doctor say?”
“Oh, he's recovering well. They want to keep an eye on him for another day, so it doesn’t look like he’ll be going home tomorrow.”
“Oh, damn. I’m sorry,” I reply. I sit in the empty chair near the foot of his bed. She pats my leg as I do.
“It’s okay. At least he’s okay. Have to look on the bright side.”
“Yeah…” I didn’t really intend to stick around long. I’m eager to get back to Mia, but I also can’t leave my mom here. “Mom, do you want to go home and get some sleep or a shower or something? I can stay with him.”
“No. I’m fine,” she replies with dark circles under her eyes. Then her gaze lands on my face, and I can tell she’s about to say something serious. I tense up with anticipation. “Mia was so upset. So scared.”
“I know.”
“And she called you. Before I even thought to call you, she did.”
“I’m glad I was nearby,” I reply, waiting for her to get to the point.
“I know Mia’s been seeing someone. Ever since we got back from the lake, she’s been gone almost every night. Giggling like a schoolgirl. Always on her phone.”
I wait in silence, watching her face as she speaks, quietly enough not to wake Paul. And I have to force myself to breathe.
What am I going to say if she asks? The shame and guilt for what I’ve done with Mia suddenly come crashing to the forefront of my mind. This is their little Mia, the girl my own mother adopted as her own. The golden child. The innocent, sweet daughter who I’ve recently defiled in numerous ways in the past two weeks.
I know I said they would get used to the idea of us together, but what if they don’t? Not that I could blame them. I’m the club-owning bachelor and party animal who’s thirteen years older than her, and that’s not even accounting for my other issues.
My mother reaches out and touches my hand, quieting the manic voices in my head.
