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Broken picture frames are scattered on the ground next to shards of glass. The side tables have been upturned, couches torn. The TV is hanging by a wire, and someone seems to have taken a baseball to the wall because it has a giant dent in it.
My favorite flower vase is in tatters on the ground
And in the middle of the chaos, is the man responsible for it all.
He turns around when I walk in and I turn my horrified eyes to him.
“Are you kidding me?” My voice is way too mild, way too tame for the storm ripping apart inside of me. “Are you insane?!”
He winces a little at the screech in my statement and holds his hands up. “Now calm down. Let me explain–”
“Explain? Explain! What the fuck are you going to explain to me, Luke?”
“Now Mia–”
“This is way beyond the limits of a simple prank! I mean I thought you were an ass before, but I never thought you were psychotic!” Or heartless. Tears push behind my eyes as I survey the damage. Oh my God, this is going to cost me thousands of dollars to fix. “Why would you do this to me?”
I hate that he can hear the tears in my voice and despise that it makes his expression go soft.
“Mia–”
“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care about your excuse. Just get out.”
“Mia–”
“Leave Luke! You got what you want, now leave me the fuck alone once and for all!”
“I’m not leaving until you let me talk,” he says, sounding frustrated. “Mia, I didn’t do this.”
“I can’t believe this.” My eyes dart to the vase again. My mother’s vase. “Especially the vase Luke. I mean everything else can be replaced, but you know how much that meant to me–”
“MIA!” The sharp bark silences me and has me turning to him again. His eyes glow with meaning as he enunciates, “I. Didn’t. Do. This.”
I shake my head, mind scrambling to make meaning of his words. “What?”
He sighs and runs his hand over his face. “I came over here, because I thought I saw something in your backyard. Or someone. I thought I would come to check it out, but whoever it was was long gone by the time I got here. And your house, well...” he gestures around, “was like this when I got here.”
I blink at him. “You’re not messing with me?”
“No,” he says, and I can sense I’ve disappointed him by asking. “I know you don’t think much of me, but I have my limits. And I would never commit a crime just to pull a prank.” He walks toward me and his thumb swipes at my cheek. When he pulls back, there is moisture on his thumb which means a tear escaped.
“I also would never break your mother’s vase,” he murmurs.
I glance up and see the sincerity glowing from his eyes. My mind is running wild with too many things to focus so I say nothing.
“The police are on their way,” he continues. “It doesn’t look like the person managed to make it upstairs, but you should probably check and see if there are any valuables missing."
“Wait.” It suddenly slams into me. “You’re saying someone broke into my house?”
His expression is grim, and he nods. “Yes.”
“But why?” I blink more in shock than anything else. “We live in a safe neighborhood.”
“Even safe neighborhoods experience break-ins,” he says.
“Yes, but we’ve never had a break-in," I say feeling hysteria threaten. “Ever. Not even when Ms. Clara's son moved in across the street. why would they break into my house?”
“Mia.” His hands are suddenly on my shoulders, his eyes intense on mine. “Relax. Breathe.”
