by RH Tucker
I’d do anything to get out of this situation, but it makes it that much more difficult because now Miguel is standing behind them, staring at me.
“You guys, stop it. I’m fine. Tim was—”
“That’s it,” Miguel interrupts me, “I’m taking that fool out.”
“No!” I shout, and they continue to stare at me. “He didn’t do anything. It’s just … it’s complicated, okay? Micah thought I was cheating on him when he saw us hugging.”
“You were hugging that prick?” Javier shouts.
“So this is about Micah.” Tomás eyes me suspiciously.
“Okay, okay. Enough,” Yesenia calls out to the boys and shoulders her way through them. “You,” she points at Javier. “You were supposed to go to the market for me, remember?” Javier stares at her a moment, before looking back at me. “Now.” She moves his chin. “Go.”
“Fine, fine.” He shakes his head, but backs away and leaves.
“And you,” she pushes Miguel in the chest with a stiff finger, “keys.”
“I’m not giving her my keys now.”
“Keys!” she shouts at him. He grumbles but reaches into his pocket, pulling out his keys, handing them to her. “Thank you.”
Muttering under his breath, Miguel turns and walks away, and Yesenia stands in front of Tomás, her back to me. He hasn’t broken eye contact with me yet. “Tomás, I need your help in the kitchen.”
“With what?” he asks, still staring.
“The masa is drying out.”
“My mom knows how—”
“No,” she cuts him off and puts a hand to his cheek. He finally breaks his gaze with me and looks down at her. “I need your help.” He rolls his eyes, but nods, and walks away. She turns around and gives me a smile. “Boys.”
“Yeah, especially when they’re your brothers.”
She dangles Miguel’s keys in front of me. When I reach for them, she quickly wraps her fingers around them, not letting go. “Everything okay, Vero?”
Cindy and Izzy have always been like the sisters I’ve never had, but we’re all the same age. When Yesenia came into our lives, she became like a big sister to me. She’s two years older than Tomás, another joke Miguel liked to make early on when they started dating, calling Yesenia a cougar.
I drop my head, looking down at my fingers, playing with my cuticles. “Yeah … everything’s fine.”
“Really?”
Lifting my gaze back up to hers, I muster up a smile and hope it seems authentic. “Yes. Thank you.”
“Okay,” she says with an endearing smile, handing me the keys. As I start to take them, she places them in my palm but wraps her fingers around my hand. “Just remember, I’m here. Okay? Your brothers love you, but I know they’re boys. If you need anything or just want to talk, just let me know.”
“All right,” I say, offering her another smile. This one feels more genuine. “Thank you.”
Walking out of the house, I can feel Miguel and Tomás’ eyes on me, but I try to ignore them. As I get into Miguel’s Honda Civic, I still feel like hiding away in my room, telling Micah I can’t come over, but if I stay my brothers will no doubt keep hounding me all night.
I’m hoping once I get to the apartment, the worries will have quieted and the rest of our day can have some semblance of what we’re used to. Unfortunately, nothing like that happens because as soon as I walk in, I see the couch. It doesn’t look any different than it has any other day I’ve been here, but it’s the last place I saw Lana.
“I got some tacos on the way home,” Micah says, breaking through my thoughts. “You hungry?”
“Um, okay.” I head to the kitchen, trying to ignore the couch and feeling stupid that I’m letting my thoughts run away with me again.
We eat on said couch, and I continuously inspect it, as if I’m going to find some trace of her here. He asks how I am and we both give each other a nervous smile at the awkward question since we just came from the beach.
“I think I’m just gonna go lay down.” I motion to the bedroom.
“Really?” He frowns for a moment before pulling out his phone. “It’s only six o’clock.”
I nod. “Yeah, I know. I think I’ll just watch something or read.”
“Oh, okay.” He stands up from the couch, picking up the wrappers. “I’ll throw this stuff away and clean up, and I’ll be right there.”
“I can help.” I move to grab my cup, but he gets to it before me.
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“All right,” I say, looking around, still feeling out of place.
Taking a deep breath, I get up from the couch and head to the room. I don’t know if he’s expecting something tonight, but I didn’t bring anything enticing, or even cute for that matter. A baggy pink shirt that hangs off my shoulder and the shorts I usually wear is my usual, and I grab them, heading to the bathroom to change.
Undressing, I stare at myself in the mirror. My fingers run over my stomach, and I push my index finger in a little. He’s never seen me completely naked. His hands have been everywhere. So have his lips. But just me, bare to him with nothing else on, he’s never seen. And that won’t be changing tonight.
I lean in closer to the mirror, bringing both hands up, and pressing them into my cheeks. Chubby. Pudgy. Whatever you want to call it, it’s fat. And even if I’ve lost some weight, my face still looks the same. My cute, little chubby cheeks, I remember Mamá telling me all those years ago. But I don’t want to be cute and chubby. Lana isn’t cute and she damn sure isn’t chubby. I want to be sexy for Micah. He’s called me that, but looking in the mirror, I don’t see it.
I have to tell him. It’s the only way to get over this. He needs to know why I’m shying away so much. I’m not sure what will happen once he knows, but at least he’ll understand why I’m acting like I am.
Pulling the shirt over my head, I take a deep breath, resolving to finally let him know. When I open the door, Micah’s standing there, bobbing slightly from side to side.
“Sorry, babe.” He whisks by me. “I really gotta pee.” He laughs before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. He starts to close the door but stops midway. “I think I’m gonna take a shower real quick, is that cool? You done in here?”
“Oh, yeah,” I answer with a nod and a smile.
“Cool.” He shuts the door.
Okay, that felt normal. Maybe this will be okay. He can take a shower, I can turn on the TV, and calm down a little. When he comes out, we can talk this out because this needs to get talked out. I need to fix this. I desperately want to get back to that spot I was a week ago, in his arms, feeling warm and loved. Feeling like I was enough for him, instead of these insane feelings like I’ll never be good enough.
I switch on the TV and browse for a show to watch, all the while mentally preparing myself for our conversation. But when he opens the door, everything I wanted to say gets tossed aside. All of my insecurities form a brick wall, blocking the words. Micah’s as much of the problem as anything. And I hate myself for even thinking that right now.
He’s in low hanging shorts; his light caramel skin still shimmers from the shower, as he dries his hair. A few beads of water slide down his chest, over his stomach, and before this week I’d want to tackle him where he stands. But now, a lump of inhibition sits inside. It’s not just Lana and every other girl that look so much better than me, it’s Micah, too.
He’s gorgeous. Why in the world would he be with me when Lana’s still throwing herself at him? He gave her a second chance before, how long will it be until he thinks he should give her a third chance? Or what of the other million women out there, taller and skinnier than me? I know Tim apologized today and said he was wrong, but that doesn’t change the fact that it happened. Whether he was just competing with guys or not, he did it. And he did it because I didn’t look as good as the other girl. How long will Micah be able to hold out?
“Did you find something to watch?” he asks, k
neeling on the bed, wrapping the towel around his neck.
“Oh, um, yeah.” I look away, hitting the remote control.
The description screen pops up, and Micah raises his eyebrow, staring at the screen. “Real Housewives?”
“Oh, wrong one.” I try to hide my embarrassment with a laugh and back out to the menu, finding a different show, then press play.
I feel him staring at me a moment longer, but don’t dare make eye contact. Any normalcy we had in that split-second, briefly passing each other in front of the bathroom, is gone. My guard is back up, and I don’t know if he’s looking at me, but I feel like he’s doing nothing but trying to decipher what’s going on in my head. Letting out a sigh, I sink deeper into the bed and stare straight ahead. He throws the towel off to the side, wraps his arm around me, but doesn’t say a word. And that’s how we spend the rest of the night.
Chapter 29
Micah
For the first time in a week, I wake up and smile. I love waking up to Veronica in the morning. The smile starts to fade because I know something’s wrong. I thought we’d talk about it last night, but she never said more than a few words at a time. I don’t want to push her though. I’m not sure what’s going on, and after yesterday, my fears of her cheating aren’t going away.
I wasn’t afraid of that at first. Sure, I suppressed those thoughts from time to time, but there was no real reason to think that. Because like Veronica herself said, she’s never given me a reason not to trust her.
Then I saw her with Tim.
It wasn’t that I saw them talking, it was how they were. His arms around her, and was she hugging him back? I can’t even remember.
I remember heading down the boardwalk to meet up with Taylor first and then I was going to text the girls. But when I saw Cindy in a store, I went in, thinking I’d find Veronica there, too. She wasn’t. Cindy said she went next door to grab some drinks and so I waited for her to buy her clothes, and we’d head next door together.
Instantly alarm bells went off. It was happening again.
But I fought it. No. She wouldn’t do that. I have no reason to suspect that. And then she started to defend him. She actually defended that asshole and then got mad at me for being jealous, before storming away.
After I dropped her off, I called Taylor, feeling utterly lost. Even though he loves to play the field, I know he’s had a serious relationship. I know what it meant to him. I called him, hoping to just get it off my chest and calm down, but it just made me freak out more.
I started off the conversation blurting out that I caught her and Tim together and instead of seeming mad, she looked like she actually liked it. Like she was enjoying talking to him. It didn’t matter what she said, my assumptions were already forming.
“She’s cheating on me, right? I mean, that’s the only option,” I blurted out to Taylor.
“Whoa, dude. Calm down. There’s no way she’d do that.”
“Yeah,” I responded. “But what if? What if she’s been playing me this whole time?”
“Are you hearing yourself, Micah? Veronica wouldn’t do that. What you saw was just them talking. Granted, I don’t know why she’d give that piece of shit the time of day, but that’s it. They were just talking.”
“Then why has she been acting strange this whole week?”
“Because of Lana.”
“That was just one time, Taylor. And I begged her to stay that morning, I begged. But she left. Was she trying to give me an opening or something? Thinking if I cheated, then she could justify whatever she’s doing or has done or is going to do? Maybe it’s all catching up to her now, and she’s just freaking out or feeling bad, because she knows what it’s like to be cheated on, and she knows it’s already happened to me. Maybe she—”
“Dude, dude! Calm down. You’re turning into a conspiracy theorist. She’s not cheating on you. If you want to know why she’s been acting weird, then you need to ask her. But seriously, Micah, get your head right because there’s no way in hell Veronica is cheating on you.”
We ended the call, but it didn’t help. When she came over, I wanted to ask her point blank if that was the case. And then I saw her. She’s incredible. I love her dark curls or those large, chestnut eyes. And even if the smile doesn’t seem real, it still gets me.
No answers were given through the night. We talked a little, ate our dinner, and then just laid in bed, watching TV. I wanted to bring it up, but I didn’t want to fight. She fell asleep, and as she did, it was the first time in forever where it felt like we were normal. She snuggled closer to me, wrapping her arm around me. I turned off the television and fell asleep, hoping this week has just been a horrible nightmare.
I run my hand along her arm, taking in a deep breath of her scent. I wish we could stay like this for the rest of the day, but I have work in a couple of hours.
She stifles a yawn, her back pressing against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her again. “Morning,” I whisper in her ear.
“Mmm,” she replies, making me laugh.
I slide my hand over her stomach, moving it lower toward her underwear. “You know, the last time we were in bed together, you said you were experiencing technical difficulties.” My hand glides under the edge of her panties. “I take it, you’re running at full capacity now.” I chuckle at my joke.
She doesn’t laugh. I feel her tense up, and her hand runs over mine, stopping it from moving. “Well, I am, but …”
Lifting myself on an elbow, I lean in closer to her. “But what?”
She looks back at me, over her shoulder. “Nothing, I just … I’m tired, Micah.”
She’s tired? We haven’t had sex in two weeks.
“Veronica, last time you slept over you were giggling about thinking you’re sex-obsessed. Now you’re tired?”
Turning on her side to face me, she frowns, narrowing her eyes. “Yes, Micah. I’m sorry, okay?”
“You don’t need to be sorry. I just wish I knew what was going on.”
She scoffs. “I just told you. Sorry if your boner can’t accept that.”
Well, this escalated quickly. “Seriously? I don’t care if we have sex right now, okay? But you’re obviously going through something, and I wish I knew what it was. I thought we’d talk about it last night, but we didn’t. So fine, whatever. And now I just want to feel something with you other than this chasm of uncomfortableness, and you’re biting my head off. What the hell is going on?”
“Fine!” She pushes me onto my back, straddling me. Running her hands over my stomach, she stops them at my shorts. “Is this what you want, Micah?”
“What the—” My jaw drops. “No, it’s not. But you know what?” I throw my hands behind my head, lacing the fingers, and stare up at the ceiling. “If this is something you need, fine. Have at it.”
“Ugh!” She groans, pushing me in the stomach, before rolling off and laying with her back to me.
She sniffles, wrapping her hands around herself. Damn it. Everything is off, and it’s only getting worse.
I roll over to her, wrapping my arms around her. I wish she’d give me some signal that she at least still wants to be with me. That she even wants to be here right now. But she lays there, wrapping her arms around herself tighter. Another sniffle escapes.
“Vero, please tell me what’s wrong. What’s happening here?” I whisper to her, softly kissing her shoulder. “Baby, what am I doing wrong?”
Her head shakes from side to side. “Nothing. You’re not doing anything wrong, Micah. It’s me.”
I clench my eyes shut. It’s true. She’s cheating on me. “Just tell me, Vero. Just say it.”
A quiet cry slips out, and she brushes away tears. I hold her tighter, afraid this is going to be the last time I ever get to do this.
“I … I can’t,” she whispers. Scooting away, she slides off the bed, getting to her feet. “I should go. You have to go to work soon.”
Hurrying to the edge of the bed, I throw my arms around h
er waist and bury my head in her.
“Are you—” The words cut off. I can’t say it. Damn it, I need to know and can’t stand to know at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, bending over and kissing the top of my head. Prying my hands from around her she backs up slowly, grabbing her bag, and walks out of the room.
“You look like shit,” Taylor says to me as I lean against the front desk.
It’s been a slow day at the gym, which helps because I’m sure I do. I’ve been here for nearly three hours, and haven’t answered phones, swept, or mopped, or even checked the schedule for any personal trainers that come in that have appointments with clients—a new responsibility they’ve given me. Thankfully, Taylor’s supervising today, so at least he’s cutting me some slack. But it’s not the first time he’s mentioned how horrible I look.
“Good,” I grumble, doodling on a piece of paper on the counter. “That means I look exactly how I feel.”
I haven’t bothered to check my phone because I know she hasn’t texted me. What I don’t know is if this morning was the last time I’ll ever have her that close. And as much as I wish I knew whether or not she is cheating, I still want to see her again. I want to hold her and kiss her. Shit. I thought it hurt when I caught Lana cheating on me. Once I know this is for real, I don’t know how I’ll be able to function.
“Still Awkward City, huh?”
“That’s putting it mildly.” I shake my head. “We didn’t talk all night, and this morning we got in an argument. I was going to ask her point-blank if she’s cheating on me, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get the words out.”
He lets out a long sigh, slapping my shoulder. “Sorry, that sucks. I will say, I still think you’re crazy.”
I continue to doodle, not bothering to reply.
Two girls walk by, leaving the gym. “Later, Taylor,” one calls out, giving him the ‘Call me tonight, because I desperately need you’ smirk.
“Later, Katie.”
“Shit,” I grumble, wagging my head before dropping it between my shoulders. “Why the hell can’t I just be like you, man?”