shuhaige
Chapter 18 Mia
Mia
Yesterday’s drinking combined with my inability to sleep last night makes sleeping in all morning sound like a great option. I lie with my eyes closed in the overstuffed bed. It’s like lying in a cloud. I stretch my arms and legs, letting the smooth sheets caress my skin. No matter how far I stretch in any direction, I can’t reach the edge of the bed. Such an expanse of luxury shouldn’t make for a rough night’s sleep.
The words “rough night” doesn’t even begin to cover the rollercoaster of emotions I experienced last night. My eyes blink open as I remember the cause of the unrest. This morning Collins said we would talk. I can only assume we’re finally going to have a conversation about our twenty-year marriage proposal.
Part of me wants to think positive. Maybe the reason he wants to talk is because he’s decided he wants me in his life. My pulse races with excitement at the idea, and I pull off the sheets, and I head for the shower.
The water is nice and hot, and I take my time, scrubbing myself from head to toe. If he does want to be with me, will he kiss me again? Will it have all the heat and passion of our stolen kiss in the ocean? I shave my underarms, my legs, and my bikini area. If we shared such a kiss, would it lead to more? Another night alone with him on a boat. Being alone with him-anywhere. My pulse races.
Of course, it will never be as easy as that. He will have to settle things with Tatianna first. So maybe we won’t be able to be together right away, maybe he’ll ask me to give him time to break things off with Tatianna. They’ve been together long enough, and she deserves to be let down first. And it’s the right thing to do.
I step out of the shower and dry myself off with an overly fluffy towel.
As I finish running my flat iron through my hair, putting the finishing touches on my carefully crafted, ready to have a serious talk with the man of my dreams look, the other possibility rears its evil head, filling my stomach with a cold and twisty dread. It’s the more realistic option.
Damn reality. I hate it.
But I know it’s the more likely outcome of our talk. He’s said it already: his life is complicated now. “We can’t just pinky swear and then live happily ever after.” I feel my shoulders slump, and I stare at my sad reflection in the bathroom mirror.
He’ll tell me he’s sorry, but that it can’t work between us. Collins will be nice about it, because he has always been good to me. But he’ll ask that-because it’s awkward and all-I find a job and move out as soon as I can.
He’ll ask me if I’m okay.
Somehow, I’ll force a nod. I’ll manage to get away from him before I curl up in a ball and cry. Collins will come and find me, and I’ll convince him that everything is fine. Just like all of our little fights and misunderstandings over the years.
I take a deep breath and check myself one last time in the mirror and fix a stray hair-not exactly sure why I bother-before heading out to find Collins. As I take the stairs, I wonder if it really has to be that way. Because after all this time-after the insanity of me flying across the country to make good on this silly promise-he could have laughed it off. He could have just pretended the whole thing was some stupid joke. And frankly, I’m so embarrassed by it that I would probably have gone along with it.
But he didn’t laugh it off. He asked to talk about it. So now, here I am, half trembling, half giddy, and all messed up. I head down the hall to the kitchen, where I know he takes his breakfast. Either he’s about to crush me, or give me hope this isn’t over yet.
***
Option C. None of the above.
I enter the kitchen to find Tatianna home early from her shoot. She sits next to Collins at the breakfast table filing her nails while he works at his computer. I struggle to hide my disappointment.
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