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“No! I will not!” she shouts, standing and stomping her foot. “Not until you explain what the hell is going on!”
I feel like I’m going to be sick. This situation has just gone from bad to worse.
Quinn squeezes my knee, and again, the simple gesture grounds me. However, with the way things are going, I’ll need his hands on me permanently.
“You will calm down, Polly, before anyone explains anything to you.”
“Fine!” She harrumphs, dropping onto the sofa. “I’m calm.”
Her comment is laughable because no one is calm. This whole room is bursting with tension at its pristine, wallpapered walls.
“I’ll make tea,” Cynthia suddenly says, making a mad dash for the door.
“Cynthia, I don’t want tea,” I snap, feeling my sanity slowly evaporating with each passing minute.
She flinches when I use her name, and as petty as this makes me, I did so deliberately.
“Very well,” she replies, her eyes darting around the room.
Finally, she sits in the chair across from me. The air is filled with an uncomfortable silence.
I wipe my face when Cynthia keeps staring at me. I know I look like shit, still beaten and bruised, but I don’t understand what she’s looking at.
Sadly, my question is answered as she gasps to herself, “You look just like him.”
No guessing to whom she’s referring. But funnily enough, my dad always said I looked like her. And that’s why I believed he hated me so and had absolutely no qualms pimping me out.
So it looks like both my parents hate me since I resemble the person they despise.
Whatever possessed me to come here has been exorcized, and I’ve seen the light. I don’t belong here, and I was stupid to think I ever did.
“This was a bad idea,” I say, jumping up from my seat.
“Mia, please wait.” The panic in her voice is clear. “This is just a shock. I’m sorry. Maybe it’s best you leave. I just need…time. I don’t know how to behave. Or what to say,” she confesses, but it’s pathetic how she expects that to be a plausible excuse.
She’s the adult here, and she’s also my mother. It’s her job to tell me that everything will be all right. But I guess that ship set sail long ago.
“It’s fine. I don’t expect anything from you. I never have,” I add, closing my eyes to stop the tears.
I instantly feel Quinn at my side, reaching for my hand and interlacing our fingers. He’s my family—the only family I need.
“Sorry to have bothered you,” I whisper, my throat about to close as I open my eyes.
I practically run for the front door, needing an escape.
“Mia.” She sniffles, and I barely restrain myself from punching her in the face.
What right does she have to sniffle?Ishould be the one sniffling, not her. But I’m done with the tears. And I’ll be damned if I shed one more tear over this disappointment of a person.
“What?” I reply, my hand braced on the doorknob.
“Where will you go?” she asks, her heels clicking on the tiled floor as she steps toward me.
“Oh, who cares where she goes! She’s not welcome here,” snaps Polly, who is undoubtedly overjoyed to see the back of me.
The fact Cynthia has not refuted Polly’s statement makes me believe that she’s right, that I really am not welcome in their home.
“Mia?” Cynthia presses.
