I couldn’t take my eyes off that photo.I had no clue what else was in there, and the idea of closing it up again and hiding it was really appealing.There’d been a lot of things that disappeared from my room after Grandma heard about our breakup, but I thought they’d been thrown away.Now I wasn’t sure.
I nodded.I sure as hell didn’t need to see more shit like this while Mia was sitting across from me.
“I thought you might have tossed all this, after we broke up.”
I kept my eyes on the box, as if I could somehow X-ray through the top items and see what else was there.“By the time I got back to the house, all the stuff with us was gone from my room.”I’d walked for miles around the neighborhood after our fight, and I’d been grateful not to have any reminders of Mia waiting for me.
“Really?”I finally looked up at her frowning face.“Did you tell them we broke up right away?”
“I, uh, I’d already told New York I was coming before I talked to you.”
She flinched, then lifted her chin.“What?”
“I was afraid I’d back out..”
She pushed to her feet, hands fisted.“Are you kidding me?”She growled.“Do you have any idea how many nights I couldn’t sleep, repeating that last fight, trying to think of a way we could have made it work?”
Her voice cut through me.She’d had regrets?
Another growl.“The hours I spent second-guessing everything, tempted to call you and say I’d do whatever?And all the fucking time you’d decided—before we talked, before I even had a chance to deal with what was going on—that we were done?”
She glared at me, and I had no words.
“I need some air.”She ran up the stairs and moments later I heard the front door slam.
I sat, thrown back to that fight.I’d hurt her then, and now I was doing it all over again.
Chapter16
Hockey Hasn’t Made Me Any Smarter
Mia
It was raining and I didn’t have a car, so all I could do to vent my anger was stomp down the sidewalks back home.It was that or go back to Justin’s and I just couldn’t, even if it meant losing the job.
Why this hit so hard, I wasn’t sure.Our breakup wasn’t just ancient history, it had been inevitable.He was determined to help his family, and I was just as determined to help mine, but I’d thought we were discussing options that last night.I thought he was listening to me.Instead, he’d already broken us.He let us have that last fight, with all the angry words, rather than being honest.
I’d blamed myself, so much.And now—none of it mattered.
I messaged Justin that I wouldn’t be back today.He sent back a thumbs-up.Nice.
I was wet and angry, so my only option was to go inside.It was quiet for once.There were no signs of Cora or Dorian or Bruce, and Mom was asleep in a chair in the living room.I considered slipping upstairs to do the same, but it was so rare to feel like the place was mine that I didn’t want to waste it.I wasn’t sure I’d have been able to sleep anyway.
I ran a couple of loads of laundry through and cleaned the bathrooms.The rain stopped and the sun came out.Mom woke up.I told her I’d gotten off early and set her up with some iced tea and her favorite TV show.
I should start something for dinner.I opened the fridge, finding the milk almost gone, an empty pitcher of lemonade put back, and a package of cheese drying out where someone had ripped into it, taken what they wanted, and put it back without wrapping it.I closed the door.We needed groceries, and no one would even think of placing an online order.They’d just expect food to show up.
This wasn’t anything new.But today it irritated me past the point of tolerance.Even when I was Dorian’s age, I’d made sure there was food and usually prepared the meals.But Mom would never force anything, afraid the kids would find her too much.And Bruce had told me more than once that I wasn’t their parent and couldn’t tell them what to do.
I always caved because I didn’t want Mom to be alone, and because, in spite of their faults, they were good to Arne.But today, my emotions rubbed raw by the altercation with Justin, I just couldn’t.I pulled bread out of the freezer and made tuna sandwiches for Arne and me.The bread would be thawed by the time we ate it, and fortunately, he wasn’t a picky kid.I changed into jeans, packed the sandwiches in a cooler, and threw it over my shoulder with a blanket.When Arne got off the bus, I told him we were having a picnic for dinner.
“Cool!Who is coming?”
“Just you and me.”
He cocked his head.“Could we maybe get ice cream?”
I grinned.“That might be possible, if the guy comes around with his cart.”