by J. L. Berg
“It’s beautiful,” she said, taking in the panoramic view of the city.
I just stared at her. “Yes, it is.”
I had always dreamed of proposing to Mia at a place like this—someplace worthy of her beauty and elegance. It would have been an engagement story she could have told her friends about. She could have run home, excited and full of bubbly glee, showing off the ring I’d spent months saving up for.
But sometimes, things didn’t happen the way one had planned. At the time, none of that had mattered. It hadn’t mattered that our engagement was a secret or that when I had knelt down, it had been in the wet grass on the banks of the river we’d dubbed our own secret spot. It hadn’t mattered that the ring I gave her cost less the class ring I once wore. We had been happy and ready for anything.
Or at least, I’d thought we had.
Chapter Eleven
~Mia~
I heard him slip off to his morning meeting a few minutes after I’d woken up. The sun was just starting to break over the horizon, and I knew I was alone. I was still lying in bed, curled up with a pillow, staring at the wall next to me. I was trying to avoid the crumpled-up map sitting on the desk across the room.
The map that had kept me up most of the night.
The map that clearly showed the three blocks separating me from my parents.
I couldn’t go.
I wouldn’t.
But what if I do?
It had been eight years since I last saw them, since I’d heard their voices or seen their faces. The only reason I knew their address was because I was nosy, and I’d kept tabs on them after they moved. It hadn’t been more than a couple of weeks after I left Richmond that my father announced the news he’d been offered a job in New York. They had quickly and quietly moved and never looked back. My father had tried to contact me once or twice, but I’d made it clear that I was done.
I’d been done being manhandled and bullied. They’d run my life long enough, and when I’d needed them most, they’d chosen themselves instead.
As I stared across the room at that tattered map, I tried to picture them in my mind.
Would my mother be just as perfect looking—never a hair out of place or a toe out of line? She’d carried herself like the Queen of Sheba and expected nothing less. Would my father still be conveniently absent, letting my mother make all the decisions so that he didn’t have to? He had always allowed her to run his life, never standing his ground for anything—including me. He’d chosen her over me, pushing me away when she told him to, even though I knew he didn’t want to leave.
I’d sometimes wondered how their lives would pan out without me in it. Would they even notice my absence? Would it matter that their only daughter wasn’t around anymore? Or would things go on as normal?
I gave one last glance at the creased and crinkled up map that had become my obsession over the last twenty-four hours, and I let out a curse.
Thirty minutes later, I was showered and dressed. I walked down the street, doing something incredibly stupid. I turned around and walked back to the hotel half a dozen times. I had no doubt that I looked insane to the pedestrians around me.
When I finally made the decision to go through with it, I found the address easily. Like most of Manhattan, the apartment building was well-kept with an uppity doorman who looked down at me as he held the door. I slipped inside with a group of unassuming tenants.
My hands started shaking, and my palms were sweaty by the time I made it up to their floor.
I was so stupid. What was I thinking?
But still, I kept going.
The wide-eyed eighteen-year-old girl who had had her heart crushed by the two people she trusted most in the world needed to know.
I needed to know.
I needed closure, whatever it might be.
So, I continued my journey down the ornate hall, counting the apartment numbers as I went.
My parents definitely hadn’t lost their love for flare. Everything was decadent. From the plush elevator to the exquisite hallways and right down to the gilded door knockers—everything screamed money.
At last, I found my parents’ place. I took a deep breath, pushed the buzzer, and waited.
~Garrett~
She’d been quiet all day.
Last night, as we’d waited for our table at Serendipity, planning everything out, she’d been excited. She’d peeked over my shoulder as I’d bought tickets for the Statue of Liberty, and she’d begged me to take her to the Hard Rock Café even though there were dozens of other restaurants that would have been much better.
But that was where the excitement had ended.
I’d gotten back to the hotel a bit later than I’d planned, but it had still been early enough that we had time to pick up lunch and head out for our boat ride to the statue. After I’d changed and packed up my work clothes, I’d knocked on the door separating our rooms, and I’d gotten a faint reply. I’d opened the door and found her curled up on the bed, staring at a map of the city like it was the saddest thing ever.
“Hey, you okay?” I’d asked, coming forward to comfort her. I’d stopped myself because I hadn’t known where the boundaries of our friendship were.
She’d looked up in a daze, and I’d thought that was when she finally realized I was in the room. She’d appeared startled and quickly shook herself out of whatever funk she was in. It’d felt like a slap in the face to watch her change moods so quickly, but I hadn’t known what else to do, so I’d just gone with it. She’d jumped up and grabbed her things, and then we had headed out for the day.
We’d picked up a quick lunch at the pub downstairs, and she’d barely eaten. We’d ridden the subway, and she hadn’t said a thing.
Even as the boat had pulled away from the harbor and we’d gotten our first glimpse of Lady Liberty, she had been eerily quiet. I’d tried to ask her what was going on, but she had just shrugged it off and cheered back up, posing for pictures and skipping ahead to read signs.
Dinner hadn’t been any better. She’d pushed around her food and stared at the wall. I hadn’t known what to do. Minus the woman sitting in front of me, the only experiences I’d had with women were brief drunken interludes. But even she was different than what I remembered.
Mia from years past would have come out and told me what was troubling her. She would have bled her soul to me the second it was hurting. I didn’t know what to do when she was closed off and silent.
Finally, as we were walking back from the restaurant, I snapped. “Damn it, Mia! Please tell me what’s wrong.”
Her eyes became watery, and she pushed away the tears with her sleeve. “I visited my parents today.”
That was the last thing I’d expected. As we entered the hotel and made our way to the elevator, I tried to come up with a reply.
“They live here?”
She nodded. “Yes, they moved here after I left…Richmond.”
I had a feeling she had been about to say, after I left you, but I didn’t press.
“Okay, so you visited your parents. Please explain to me further, so I can understand,” I pleaded.
The elevator dinged, and we stepped out onto our floor. She fished out her key card, and I waited. She unlocked her room and stepped inside, and then I followed her inside. Our conversation wasn’t over. I closed the door behind me, and she turned, becoming aware of the very small space between us.
“I haven’t seen them in eight years,” she said.
“Eight years, Mia? Why?”
I searched her face for answers, but she wasn’t giving any.
“I wasn’t perfect anymore,” she answered.
Fuck friendship boundaries.
I took a step forward and pulled her into my arms. She came willingly, and I tried not to think about how perfectly she still molded into my body.
“Tell me about today,” I said gently.
“She didn’t recognize me,” she said into my chest.
“What do you mean?�
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“My own mother. She didn’t recognize me. If she did, she pretended not to. The maid brought me in, and my mother looked up and said, ‘May I help you?’ She just stared blankly at me like I’d come off the streets, looking for a job.”
“Did you say anything to her?” I asked as I stroked her hair.
“No, I turned and ran, so she wouldn’t see my tears.”
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.”
I held her until all her tears dried up, and the sobs ceased, but even then I didn’t let go. I couldn’t. Now that I had her, I didn’t want to lose the feel of her between my arms again. Her head turned upward, and our eyes met. Hers were still red, but they were the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. They were blue and translucent, like ocean water.
“Garrett, I—”
“Shh,” I said.
I bent down and hovered, feeling her heart beating against mine, as I waited for her to push away. She didn’t, and for the first time in eight years, I found heaven again as my mouth brushed up against hers. Our lips met hesitantly at first, and we kissed each other softly, like a reunion of souls. But soon, our impatience grew, and I needed more. My fingers dived into her hair and angled her mouth, so I could kiss her long and deep. She tasted exactly the same yet completely different. It was like having a favorite wine and trying it again several years later after it had aged a bit. She was still my Mia but bolder, fiercer, and sexier.
She moaned into my mouth, and I lost it.
Slipping my hands down to her thighs, I caught her knees and pulled her up around my torso as I walked us to the bed.
I was done being friends with Mia Emerson.
With her hands wrapped around my shoulders, we tumbled onto the mattress. She watched me as I slipped my hands under her dress and pulled it over her head. My dreams hadn’t done her justice. She was stunning. Her breasts spilled over the edge of her lacy pink bra, and they were begging to be touched and licked. Reaching behind her, I undid her bra and freed it from her body. She squirmed and writhed underneath me as I attacked, rubbing each nipple between my fingers into a taut peak.
Bending down, I licked and sucked that perfect pink nipple until she was screaming.
“Oh God, Garrett!”
Hearing her say my name nearly made me come in my jeans.
In one swift movement, I reached over me and pulled off my T-shirt. I groaned as her hands found my chest.
Loving the way her hands felt on me, my hands found her waist and I lifted up off the bed and flipped us, loving my new view—Mia on top of me in a lacy pink thong.
I watched as she bent over and started kissing her way up my body. Her nipples brushed against my skin, and I felt myself growing harder with every single touch. She paid special attention to my tattoos, stopping to kiss the band around my left arm, the knot woven over my shoulder, and then moved to my inner arm.
“Stop,” I said suddenly.
Her eyes focused on the script, and she read the words. “Until then. What does it mean?” she whispered, her eyes now focused on me.
“Just drop it, Mia.”
Her eyes shifted to my arm again and stayed. “What does it mean, Garrett?”
I exhaled and pinched the bridge of my nose to keep the emotions at bay. I didn’t want to do this. Not now. Not ever. But there were some things you couldn’t outrun.
I took a deep breath. “That day we found out…when you were crying in my arms, asking what we were going to do. I wasn’t scared, not at all. You were carrying my child. The woman I loved was carrying my child. I didn’t care how old we were or what people would think. I kissed you and said everything would be okay because I knew it would be.”
She moved off of me, and I sat up. Both of us needed a bit of space. This was a conversation that we’d put off far too long.
“I always thought we would have a girl. I pictured her with your hair and my eyes. She’d be seven by now, Mia.”
She nodded, and a stray tear fell from her cheek. I grabbed my shirt and got up, knowing this was over. All of it was over. We were living a lie if we’d thought this could be fixed.
She’d aborted our child without giving me a choice. She’d left me with nothing more than a note and a shattered, broken heart. I couldn’t get over that.
I wouldn’t.
“I got the tattoo to remind myself that despite your decision, I’d see my child someday.”
She didn’t say anything else, and I started to take my exit.
“Garrett,” she said softly as I was about to close the door behind me.
I turned around and saw her looking up at me from the bed. She’d pulled the sheet up to cover herself.
“You were right,” she said.
“About what?”
“The baby…was a girl.”
Chapter Twleve
~Mia~
I should have waited.
We had a plan. We were going to tell them together, but I hadn’t listened.
“What did you just say, young lady?” my mother asked, her voice taking on that authoritative tone I hated.
“I’m pregnant, and Garrett and I are getting married this summer.”
I watched as the words settled, and her glare deepened. She still maintained her impeccable posture, sitting on the couch like she was expecting the royal court to arrive at any moment. My father paced behind her like a caged lion—or cowardly lion. He didn’t bother to say anything. He never did.
“And just how do you expect to support yourself?” she asked.
“We’ve talked it through, and we’re both still going to school. I’ll take the second half of next year off to spend with the baby, and Garrett will attend part-time to pay for our apartment.”
Her icy demeanor didn’t change in the slightest. She showed no emotions, no hysterics. “And school? How are you going to pay for school?”
My mouth gaped open, but I closed it without a single word springing forth.
“Oh, you thought we were going to pay for it? Well, that was before you decided to get yourself pregnant. If you choose this life, Amelia, you’re on your own,” she said.
“Mom, you can’t do that! What about my trust fund?” My voice was rising, and my panic was soaring as well.
“Oh, I can, and I will. I will not support this embarrassing behavior, and neither would your grandfather, if he were alive. If you want a future that we pay for, you will end this, all of it, right now.”
My eyes widened in horror as I stared into her stone-cold face, hoping she didn’t mean what I thought she meant.
“You can’t truly mean that?”
“I do. Do you really think that you and that boy can raise a child on your own? Do you really think you can afford to live and pay for college? Who do you think will have to drop out, Amelia? I might not like the boy, but he’s loyal. Do you think he’ll let you give up your dreams?”
We’d planned it all out. We hadn’t gone into this lightly. We’d looked up housing costs and made budgets and goals. Garrett had even started looking for places he could contact for work after we moved, but everything hinged on our parents’ support. We had briefly talked about staying local, attending a community college for a few years, but he didn’t want to hinder my dreams of going to my first-choice school. He wanted me to have everything.
“I can see from your face that you know he wouldn’t. Are you willing to destroy his life along with yours for this future you have planned?”
The life I’d envisioned and planned started fading…vanishing. Garrett would give up everything for our child and me, including himself. There was no happy ending for us, not anymore.
“No, Mom, I’m not.”
The scattered papers in front of me hadn’t moved in thirty minutes. I’d been frozen in my thoughts, lost in my memories and haunted by my regrets for most of the day. I didn’t think I’d done a single productive thing since I clocked in four hours earlier.
Leah breezed in from one of the labor rooms, looking far t
oo good for someone in a pair of scrubs. She leaned over the counter with a wide grin. “Hey, heard you went on a trip. How was it?” she asked.
“Oh, it was, um…good.”
“Good? That’s all I get? I thought we were friends. Friends get more than good, Mia.”
Where did I begin? Did I say it was an amazing two days? Yes, two days, not four. That was why I was at work on a Sunday afternoon when I should still be in New York.
I’d woken up the morning after the incident and found Garrett banging on the door. He’d told me to get dressed and that we needed to head to the airport. Something had come up, and we had to catch an earlier flight home. He’d briefly apologized in the cab for cutting our trip short, but that had been the only conversation we shared the entire way home. He hadn’t needed to lie. I’d known there wasn’t anything that had suddenly come up at home that needed his attention. He hadn’t wanted to be around me anymore, and I couldn’t blame him.
“We had a great time. He took me to a toy store,” I said with a shy smile.
“A toy store? Yeah, that sounds like Goober.”
“Goober?” I asked, intrigued by the nickname.
I’d noticed Leah had nicknames for almost everyone. She called her husband Hotshot and would sometimes refer to herself as Mrs. Hotshot with a goofy grin.
“Yeah, it’s a nickname I gave him a long time ago when he was short, adorable, and annoying. Actually, most of those are still true—except for being short. He’s like a tree now.”
A flash of him bending down to kiss me in the hotel room came rushing back suddenly. There was always quite a height difference between the two of us, and I’d loved the way he would curl himself into me to steal a kiss.
I kissed you and said everything would be okay because I knew it would be.
When he’d kissed me again after so much time, I’d felt a part of my heart repairing itself. But I had been living a fantasy. There were some things that couldn’t be forgotten.