Just One Week (Just One Song)

by Stacey Lynn

  Mia knows. Instantly. A stupid woman she is not.

  Shit.

  Her eyes are wide and her face pales as she glances between Ashley and me and then the shot glasses. At least we’re re-dressed.

  Tension fills my house so thickly I think I might drown in it.

  “I called Nicole when I landed. She said you left the hospital and thought you came back here to shower.”

  Her eyes are blank. There is no anger or any emotion whatsoever shown on her face. And her voice? It’s dry. Hollow.

  I close my eyes, press my lips together, and nod once. No one moves. This isn’t happening. Except it is. Mia’s here. She came to see me and this is what she catches me doing? I want to set my head on fire over the indoor grill.

  “Yeah …” I clear my throat and try again. “Yeah. What are you doing here?”

  “To see you.” Her voice is dry. She’s hurting and it’s my fault. “Am I interrupting?”

  “Huh? Oh …” Ashley is still here, standing in between me and Mia, and I completely forgot.

  “No worries, I’m on my way out.” She hops off the counter with a bright smile on her face and doesn’t look at either of us.

  “I’ll walk …” I start to say but she cuts me off with a slight raise of her hand.

  “Don’t worry about it. Bye, Chase.”

  And then she’s gone, skittering away like a scared little mouse and I’m left with Mia, alone. She looks like how I’ve felt for the last two months.

  Hurt. Lost. Pissed. Confused. I see it all.

  My head drops and I put my hands on my hips, shaking my head. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

  I can’t even look at her. Maybe this is a game. Maybe it never was a game. My head is so screwed up, seeing Mia in my house. The house I wanted her – want her – to live in with me. How could I think a night, a few hours, with a nurse could take away all the feelings I have for Mia?

  “Do you want a ride to the hospital?”

  What? There are a dozen things she could skewer me for and this is what she asks? I wonder briefly if this is like the calm before the storm. She’s going to suck me into the eye of the perfect storm and then all hell will be unleashed on me. Not that I don’t deserve it.

  My eyes are drawn to hers. She doesn’t look angry anymore; resigned, maybe. I chew on the inside of my bottom lip, trying to figure her out. Figure us out. Hell, is there even an us? Was there ever an ‘us’?

  “Chase. Hospital? Baby?” Mia holds up the keys to something and shakes them back and forth. I take a look at her. She looks good. Really good. She’s wearing short white shorts and a long sleeve top in a bright blue that hangs off one shoulder. Her hair falls halfway down her back in loose curls.

  She’s beautiful – just like always.

  “You look really good.” I’m an idiot. The look she gives me tells me she thinks the same.

  “Have you been drinking?” She ignores my comment and it’s not lost on me. I feel the storm brewing. “Do you need a ride?”

  Hell. No. If there’s a fight starting, I want to be in my truck. In my own space.

  “I’ll drive my truck.” And then I watch her; really watch her. Mia takes a strand of her hair and slowly … gently … pushes it behind her ear. Her fingernails are bright pink. I look down. They match her toes.

  How could I have almost done what I was about to do … which was nothing. Honest. I was going to stop it.

  I love her. Shit. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not anymore.

  “I’ll follow you then. I don’t know how to get there.”

  I don’t care if I have to carry her, but she is getting in my truck. “I’ve had one shot, Mia. I’m fine. Let’s go.”

  When I get close to her, I catch it. It’s just the smallest hint of her but it’s exactly what I was hoping for earlier. I can’t help but stop when I get next to her.

  “What you saw earlier … it’s not what you think. I just …” I just have no idea how to finish that thought so I don’t. I grab my keys, hanging from a hook to the garage, surprised that Mia is following. “Did you have bags you needed to bring in?”

  It hits me. She flew on a plane, by herself, and her first stop is at my house. Did she take a cab? No … she has a car with her. A rental? Probably.

  “I’ll take them to Nic’s later. Will you bring me back here to get them?” I want to ask her to yell and scream at me. She’s talking to me in a voice that says she doesn’t give a shit about what she saw, but I know she’s lying because I can see the pain in her eyes. Screw waiting for the storm, I want to hash it out. Now. And then I want to get the bags out of the back of her car, unpack them in my room, and never let her go.

  She looks like she might have a problem with that idea right now. I sigh.

  “I’ll do whatever you want, Mia.” I mean much more than the words I speak. Her blue eyes hit mine with such intensity I stop breathing. Or thinking. I see her pain from what I just caused, but I also see more. She’s hurting because she loves me and I see it written all over her beautiful face. It’s so apparent that I can’t stop myself from reaching out and cupping her cheek with my hand. “I’m so sorry you just saw that … whatever it was, babe. I wanted to forget how much I’ve missed you and thinking you didn’t want me.”

  Her eyes stay on me and her mouth opens just a little bit. God, I love that mouth and her perfect pink lips. They look soft and I know she’s not wearing a lip gloss that tastes like cherries. Her eyes close, breaking the spell she has on me, and her head turns just enough that tells me she doesn’t want me touching her right now.

  I don’t blame her. It’s instinct though. Whenever Mia is around, I have to have a hand on her at all times. She calms me. I hope I didn’t completely fuck this up … whatever this is right now.

  “There’s a baby coming, and everyone wants you there.”

  Right. Baby. They don’t want me there for that. They want me there to kick my fucking ass.

  I don’t have a right to be mad at him. I know this. I’ve led him on and pushed him away so many times that it’s not surprising he finally got tired of waiting.

  I’m not mad. I’m hurt.

  It’s taken me weeks to realize that the only thing in life I want is Chase. I love him.

  For the first time in my life, I’ve been able to admit to not only myself, but to my mom, and the rest of my family. Their words when they heard me admit it? Go find him and tell him.

  It’s not easy growing up thinking your life was one way only to find out that it was all one big façade the parents put on and allowed to give you the childhood they think you deserve. It’s wrecked me over the last few weeks. I can’t stop thinking about all the anger I’ve had directed at my dad when he was really always the same exact man. He may have hid it better when I was younger, but he was the same drunk I saw when my mom got sick. She protected us from his disease, her disease didn’t change him. It’s been a hard pill to swallow.

  When I was thirteen and thought my mom was going to die, she sat me down to fill my head with all the motherly wisdom she could before I didn’t have her to listen to anymore. “Find a man worthy of you and settle for nothing less. Love him. And then love him harder. It is possible for the love of a woman to change a man.”

  I promised her I would. It’s the first time I remember blatantly lying directly to my mother’s face. I walked out of that room swearing to myself I would never love a man the way she loved him because look at what he had become. It wasn’t anything I wanted any part of.

  Except now I’ve had to realize that wasn’t wisdom she shared with me. It was the dying wish of a woman who wished her husband would change for her. I’ve based all of my relationships on that one conversation with my mother and it wasn’t based on a shred of reality.

  And now I don’t know how to handle it except to finally go after something that may just help me be a little bit more me. I’ve lost a part of myself since I’ve been to New York. The fashion industry is i
nsanely busy and competitive. It moves at a faster pace than I ever could have imagined and somewhere along the way I’ve lost myself.

  Being with Chase reminds me of who I really am.

  And I want him. Except now I’m facing the very real possibility that he’s moving on. I’m facing the task, for the first time in my life, of putting my heart on a line and risking it being shredded. It’s terrifying and I can’t stop my knees from shaking as we barrel down the highway in Chase’s larger than life black truck toward the hospital.

  My heart shredding can wait.

  “How’s Chloe doing?” I ask to finally break the silent tension. He feels like shit for getting caught with that girl. I can tell. I see his regret written plainly across his face and in the way he’s been gripping the steering wheel as if it will sprout wings and fly away if he lets go or loosens his grip for a split second. His knuckles are white and the veins in his forearms are sticking out like he just took a dose of steroids.

  He turns his head to me once, then twice and frowns. If he’s expecting me to yell at him, he’s wasting his time. I’m not ready to talk about any of this … yet. We will. I just want a few more minutes to avoid it.

  “She was tired when I stopped in earlier but doing okay.” I nod and there’s silence. More silence except the radio playing and the beat of the tires against pavement. “How did you get here? Is it safe for you to travel?”

  I glance at him and his eyes are on my chest. I would normally give him shit for looking but I can tell he’s only looking because he’s concerned about me. “Nic called me as soon as she heard and I hopped on the first flight out. I wanted to see Chloe and the baby, and Nic.” And you. But the words get caught in my burning throat.

  My hands are pressed against my thighs and my feet keep tapping. When I was a girl and on long car trips, I made up a game of lifting my foot every time the car rolled over a crack in the road. I have no idea why. It helped passed the time, I guess. It must be muscle memory because I see a crack in the road just as my toe starts to lift.

  “Can we talk about this?” His hands tighten on the steering wheel and his knuckles turn white as he pulls off on the exit ramp. There’s a blue sign with a white H stamped on it and an arrow pointing to the right. There’s a massive building just a block down the road. I think I might jump out of the truck and inhale a large breath as soon as Chase hits park just to breathe fresh air instead of his cologne that has permeated the air since we sat down.

  “I’d rather not.”

  “I get it … I do, but Mia …” he looks at me and his eyes flash to the hospital when we stop at a light. It’s red. Green, green, green. Anything to get me out of this. “She’s a nurse on the floor.”

  My eyes close and my chest heaves. My head falls back to the headrest and I sit there, quietly. I’m not mad at him, but jealousy can be an evil bitch. The truth is, that girl, whoever she is, had her hands all over Chase’s body less than an hour ago and it’s the same body I want to be touching. The only body I’ve ever wanted to touch but fear and stupidity has kept me away.

  He parks and I throw my door open before he’s out of the truck. I hop down and take the deepest breath I have ever taken in my life. The air is filled with the stench of smog and gasoline. All the deliciousness of Chase’s cologne evaporates instantly.

  “Mia?” I turn to face him as he rounds the truck.

  I’m a big girl. I can listen to what he has to say. I’ll just listen and we’ll talk later. My mouth doesn’t receive the message.

  “So let me get this straight. I get a call from Nic this morning about Chloe. I rush to the airport and hop on the first flight possible, texting you while I’m at the gate, and the entire time you’re hitting on a nurse and taking her home with you to what, Chase? Screw her? After seeing her for about five minutes? Is that what you want to talk about?”

  His hands link together behind his neck and he looks up at the sky. It’s gray – there’s nothing to see there.

  “I’m so sorry. I just, I got your text and I started thinking you were playing some sort of game with me.”

  “Games? Are you serious right now?”

  “I’m an ass. I don’t have a better excuse. You haven’t called or texted me, and you’ve barely responded to mine. It just threw me. And I started thinking you were screwing with me or playing some mind game and then I thought back to how you didn’t tell me the truth about being sick. So I thought you lied about a lot of things.” His hands fall down to his side and then fly high up into the air. “I’m sorry, Mia. I’m an asshole and I admit it, but I wasn’t going to do anything with her, not after I brought her home. I just wanted a distraction so I could stop thinking about you for five fucking minutes!” He’s panting by the time he’s done.

  I’ve put him through the ringer time and time again over the last few years and I can’t deny anything he’s said. It has been a game. Maybe not an intentional one, but I’ve pushed and pushed him away and then allowed him to come back or drawn him back, the entire time suspecting he cared more about me than he said.

  “I’m sorry.” My voice sounds as meek as a mouse and I cringe inwardly. I should tell him more. I should tell him why I’m here – because I love him. But I can’t yet. The memory of him so close to that nurse who was still pulling her shirt down when I walked around the corner is too freshly ingrained in my head.

  “You’re sorry?” he asks and takes a step closer to me. I back up so my back is against the side of his truck. “That’s all you have to say? You’re not going to yell at me? Because I deserve it, Mia. I do. I should have stayed in Minnesota with you. I shouldn’t have left and let you push me away. I didn’t want to, I just didn’t know how to help you.”

  He’s so close to me I can smell him. I can smell the stale cigarette smoke on his shirt and his sweat and his spicy scent. It’s alluring and sends my wits scattering all over the ground like a bowl of dropped marbles.

  Looking to his eyes, I can see love wrapped in confusion. Maybe I should yell at him, but he doesn’t really deserve it. I’m the one that told him to go - that I didn’t want him. “I don’t blame you. I didn’t mean to play games, I just didn’t know how much …”

  Before I can tell him that I love him, regardless of everything he thinks he did wrong, his lips are mine. He presses them to mine, and just as I’m about to let him in, I get a faint taste of … cherries?

  Pushing him back with my hands on his chest I look at him, his gray eyes swirling with an array of emotions. “Did you kiss her? You taste like cherries.”

  He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and makes a look of disgust, muttering a curse. I hold out my hand to his.

  “It’s fine. I get it.” Sort of. I’m still jealous and I hate that he had a girl in his house. “Let’s just go see Chloe and we’ll figure this out later, okay?”

  He looks at me warily, like he can’t believe I’m not more upset, but holds my hand in his, interlocking our fingers.

  When we reach the maternity floor, the nurse behind the desk widens her eyes in surprise.

  “Shit.” Chase says next to me and squeezes my hand.

  “Back so soon?” The nurse asks, her eyes flickering between me and Chase and then down to our intertwined hands. I pull mine out of his and keep walking just as Chase slows down. I don’t know who she is, but I’m not stopping to figure it out.

  “Hey Amber,” I hear Chase say quietly as I take off down the hall.

  I’m almost to the door when Chase calls my name.

  Turning to him, I see him holding a toothbrush and toothpaste in his hands, rushing down the hall towards me. He looks nervous, but then smiles widely. “Sorry about that. I just need to brush my teeth.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. He looks so excited at the hope of me not being pissed at him that it washes away the awkwardness I felt just minutes ago.

  I smile at him, grabbing onto his hand again, and pull him into the room. “And your lips.”

  River Garre
tt Clausen is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, wrapped up in the smallest package possible. He was born twenty minutes before Chase and I arrived back at the hospital, but we’re able to sneak into Garrett’s room as soon as we get there. All six pairs of eyes glare at Chase as soon as we walk in the door and then their mouths drop in shock when they see me behind him, still holding his hand.

  It’s like someone waves a hand through the air and time stops because everyone freezes, their eyes fixed on my hand in Chase’s.

  “Hey,” I say lamely while waving my free hand in the air.

  Nic unfreezes first and rushes me so forcefully that my hand is pulled from Chase’s. “You made it!” She leans down and whispers into my ear. “Are you okay? I had no idea he took a girl home when I told you to get him. You have to tell me everything later, right?” I nod and she pulls back, her blue eyes sparkling with happiness and a touch of concern. “God it’s good to see you. You look incredible. How are you feeling?”

  “Good. Better,” I pause and glance at Chase quickly before back to Nic. I haven’t had a chance to tell him anything yet and I know they’re both curious. “I’m still recovering, but I’ll get there.”

  One side of her lips twitch. “Well, your boobs look fantastic.”

  “You’re such a bitch,” I say, laughing. It’s inappropriate, again, but that’s just how we are. I’ve been slowly recovering and the pain in my chest is slowly decreasing. It hurts to lift my arms above my shoulders, but overall I’m doing okay. I’m not as afraid as I used to be. I’ll have scars forever, but I’m healing – in more ways than one.

  I’m pulled into the arms of Sammy and then yanked from her to Jake and then Zack. As I let go and walk to Chloe’s bed, I see Sammy move into Jake’s arms as he lays a kiss against her temple. It’s heartwarming.

  Chase wraps his arm around me as soon as I give Chloe a hug.

  “Congratulations, mama,” I say softly so as not to wake the tiny little bundle in her arms. His face is all squished up making him look like a wrinkly eighty-year-old man. His nose is swollen and his bottom lip is making a sucking motion like he’s eating in his sleep. He’s so small. My eyes get teary-eyed looking at him. This is the one thing that I will never experience and a small stab of jealousy hits me in the heart.