Still Into You

by Andrews, Ryleigh

  “Did you wake up early?” he called out, turning on the bedside light. She closed her notebook and clutched it to her chest. She slowly turned her gaze towards him and shook her head. She tried to smile at him but her mouth trembled and her eyes glistened. “Suga, what’s going on?”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she answered quietly, her body as small as her voice.

  “Why not?” he asked, concerned at the fear he heard in her voice.

  “Nightmare,” she replied simply, but her eyes were wide. Looking closer, he noticed her pale face and her damp and overly bright eyes.

  “Come here, suga,” he ordered, holding out his hand. She placed her notebook on the table and hurried to him. He tenderly wrapped his arms around her, hoping she got some comfort from it. With his mouth against her ear, he asked, “Want to tell me about it?”

  “Actually, I kind of do.”

  His heart lifted. She actually wanted to tell him something. He almost didn’t know what to do with himself. He tenderly pushed her hair aside and kissed her neck before saying, “Okay.”

  With a determined breath, she spoke the most she ever had about what troubled her. “I really hate the night and have had trouble sleeping since I was eight.”

  He stayed silent, hoping for more, but she kept shifting her position, like she couldn’t get comfortable, and when she was still, she really wasn’t. Her leg shook like a seven-point-zero earthquake. She blew out a series of shaky breaths and he knew she was having trouble telling him. Maybe if he started asking questions . . .

  “That’s the event, isn’t it?” he asked, rubbing her forearm.

  “Yes,” she said, but it came out like a sob. She tried to say more, her mouth opening and closing, but nothing came out. Whatever it was, held her back, choked her. Her breathing was erratic. She grasped onto his arms for dear life before pulling away, clawing at her chest. She sat in the middle of the bed, trying and trying to get the words out. He watched her and about fell apart when her face crumbled and raking sobs flowed where they both wished for words. Gathering her in his arms, he rocked her like he would a frantic child. He held her head to his chest, knowing how the sound of his heartbeat calmed her. She clutched at him, her face buried against him, and finally spoke. “Why won’t it come out? Why can’t I say the words?”

  He didn’t have an answer. All he knew was that this was a whole lot worse than he’d ever imagined.

  Mia

  Mia stood out on the master bedroom balcony that overlooked Ethan’s enormous backyard, toying with the beautiful engagement ring on her finger. During this time with Ethan, she’d come to realize it had to be more than a break. It had to be over. She couldn’t string him along. She and all her mess weren’t good enough for that sweet, beautiful soul that was Ethan. It wasn’t fair to him. He deserved better than her.

  She was going to have to let go of the person she loved with all her heart in order to get to the other side of her past. She was going to have to let him go to have any chance of having him forever. God, just the thought of leaving him left her with a physical ache so bad, she thought she’d collapse from it.

  He was the only thing that had ever made her feel like everything would be all right, that what happened when she was younger didn’t matter. During the last couple of months, she realized that all she had done was carefully tuck it away. Being apart from Ethan while on tour had opened the door for it to come back, but the problem was she didn’t know how to put it away. It resisted her many attempts. It was tired of being kept in the dark and was now constantly with her.

  Mia wanted to be happy with Ethan but she was finding it hard to even fake it. He wanted her happy, better, that she knew, but she wasn’t, not even close. All she kept thinking about was the upcoming battle between her and her past. She had no plan, no idea of what to do. But it had to be done.

  She wondered if, after that battle, he would even like the person she was. Would she? Hell, would she even survive?

  Crying silently, she slipped the ring off her finger and held it in her palm, staring at it, the symbol of his love for her, his desire for her to be a part of his life forever. She shook her head and closed her hand, silently telling her broken heart that it was the right thing, hoping it would believe her and forgive her for causing it pain.

  She stiffened in fear when Ethan called out her name.

  It was time.

  “Out here,” she replied, wiping the evidence of her tears away. She held on to the ring so tightly, it poked into her hand. It hurt but nothing like how her heart felt when he stepped onto the balcony, a smile on his beautiful face.

  “It’s freezing out here. Come back inside,” he said, thankfully taking the hand without the ring. He led her to the sitting area and sat them down on the sofa facing the fireplace, the heat of the fire doing absolutely nothing to warm her heart.

  Nothing would. Not until she could be with Ethan again.

  Ethan

  He regarded Mia and his heart ached seeing the old tears still upon her cheek. Why had she been crying? First he thought she was sad about leaving tomorrow, but then he saw that she was worrying something in her left hand. For a moment, he wondered what it could be. But as he studied her hand, he noticed the absence of her engagement ring on her finger.

  He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. His mind screamed, NO, NO, NO!

  “What’s in your hand, suga?” he asked, alarmed, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

  She turned her palm up and his heart stopped when he saw the engagement ring, the ring that looked so perfect on her beautiful hand, the ring that symbolized their future. He had hoped this wouldn’t happen, that all this time together would show her how worth it they were. But there it was in her hand, sparkling like crazy from the light of the fire. He looked up at her and saw the tears falling from her dark, sad eyes.

  “Why are you giving me this, Mia?”

  “Because it’s not fair of me to ask you to wait for me. I don’t know how long this will take. As much as I want you to be there for me after all this, I can’t ask that of you. I can’t let you put your life on hold so I can fix mine. That’s just not fair to you.”

  “I’ll do what I want, Mia, and if that is waiting for you, it’s my choice.”

  With her hand still outstretched, she shook her head. “I can’t let you do that, Ethan. I can’t handle that on top of this. I’m not blind. I see what this whole thing is doing to you, how much it’s hurting you. It’s only going to get worse. So, I’m giving you back this ring so you can move on.”

  With a trick of her hand, she now gripped the ring between her thumb and her index finger, and held it out to him. Resigned, he took the ring from her and stared at it, his hope completely gone. “Where am I supposed to move on to? You are what I want, Mia.”

  “Neither of us is happy right now. I want you to be happy. See other people.”

  What? She seriously didn’t just say that. Other fucking people?

  He whipped around and grabbed her in his arms. “I don’t want that, Mia. I want you. From the day I met you, I knew you were the only one for me. I had found the person that I would spend the rest of my life with. You are that person, Mia. You can’t just let that go. You can’t say goodbye that easily. I know you love me.”

  Tears streamed down her face as he spoke, each word like a punch to her body, causing her to cry even harder, the pain too much.

  “Do you think this is easy?” she yelled back at him. He was glad for that emotion. She had some fight left in her. “This is killing me, Ethan. It’s ripping me apart. I love you. I always will.”

  “Then why, Mia? We are so good together.”

  She closed her eyes, her lips quivering, as she tried to get her tears under control. “There’s so much I haven’t told you. You might not think that after you know.”

  “Let me decide that!” he wanted to shout but didn’t, because she continued to talk and he would not stop that. He needed it so he could somehow understa
nd this.

  “It hurts, Ethan. I’m not happy. I cannot . . . I see you look at me and I know you see how distraught I am. I know you want a smile on my face. You want me happy. But I am so far from happy, I can’t even fake it anymore.”

  His mind instantly went back to the night when he read her journal and learned about her happy face and cursed himself for not seeing it again.

  “Why won’t you let me help?” he asked, grasping her hand, not wanting to let her go.

  “Because you make me feel safe, Ethan. That should be a good thing, but right now, I fear it. I need to work on me. There are too many demons attacking me right now. It’s time. I need to face this because I can’t put them back any more.”

  He couldn’t fight the haunted, faraway look on her face. He couldn’t fight those for her. Deep down, he knew that she had to do this by herself. Knowing that didn’t make it an easier pill to swallow. All he could do was continue to love her, be there for her whenever she needed him.

  Ethan raised her hand to his mouth and placed his lips upon her soft skin. Fuck, he was going to miss her so damn much. He closed his eyes, fighting back the tears. He had to be strong for her. Letting go of her hand, he placed his upon her cheek, forcing her to look at him, and leaned in to taste her lips one last time. He held them there even while she cried, her tears wetting both their faces. After a few moments, he released her mouth and placed his forehead against hers, waiting until her eyes met his before he spoke his final words.

  “Just so you know, I hate this, Mia. I do not want to say goodbye to you. You’re the love of my life. You’re it for me. This is not the end. But I don’t know what else to do. So I will let you go. I won’t stand in your way. But please whenever you need me, call. I’ll be there. Always.”

  Mia

  Chicago, March 2008

  Mia returned to Chicago after finishing up her tour, so happy that it was over. She never expected the outcome at the start of the tour—alone and without Ethan. After their broken engagement, she tried to keep to herself. Her first week back in Chicago, isolation was the name of the game. She returned no calls, no texts. And there were plenty—from Luke, Allie, her bandmates. But not a single one from Ethan. She had to remind herself that she broke off the engagement. She broke his heart. She left him because the pain was too much to handle anymore. Nor could she handle seeing the tormented look in his eyes.

  She didn’t know how to let him help her. Hell, she had no idea how to help herself, how to battle these demons that had been coming at her with such a vengeance lately. Her return to Michigan didn’t help her battle. These monsters were ruthless. So Mia turned to Todd. Like in St. Paul, he provided her with the drugs to smother the pain. To be safe, she followed it with lots of alcohol.

  It worked.

  By the end of the tour, word got out that she and Ethan had called it off. Let’s just say the press was about as ruthless as her demons. Her Chicago brownstone was inundated with paparazzi. Mia stayed at the back of her house, thankful for food delivery services and her ability to sneak out the back alley.

  Her second week back, the band decided to hit the studio. It was better than being a prisoner in her own home. She had a lot to say. The songs she wrote while on tour were heart-wrenching and she continued with that theme—the disintegration of her relationship. The doubt, the shattered feelings, the falling apart. Her music reflected that.

  She stayed up all hours, writing, composing, pouring her feelings into her music. The creative outlet the only way she seemed to be able to deal with those emotions, otherwise they’d overwhelm her, making her want to drown them out. Then the next day in the studio she’d give Marty what she had. After a week of doing that on repeat, Mia was starting to feel the effects of the lack of sleep. Her ass was dragging. She needed help of the liquid kind.

  That Friday on her way to the studio, she desperately needed a coffee to make it through the day. Good thing she knew every location for coffee within a ten-mile radius around her house. She turned her Pathfinder in the direction she wanted and in a few minutes, she pulled into a Starbucks parking lot.

  Returning to her car, hot coffee in hand, a loud, bass-thumping car caught her attention as it traveled down the road. When it passed, her eyes landed on a tall man wearing a Cubs hat across the street. The minute Mia saw him, she knew who it was. Tom Myers.

  Marc Kerr, her former co-worker and brother to Clark, had introduced her to Tom about eight years ago, the same night she met Todd, Marty, and Clark. She’d become fast friends with all four men. She hadn’t seen Tom in over two years, and didn’t want to let this opportunity slip by, despite the fact it was going to make her late and piss Marty off.

  With her eyes locked on him, Mia hurriedly crossed the busy street, lucky that there was a break in traffic. He was moving further and further away. Damn it! Why the hell did she decide to wear heels today? She wouldn’t be able to reach him.

  “Tom!” she called out. For a second, she worried that she was wrong, that it wasn’t him. How embarrassing would that be? But then he turned around. Her stomach started doing flips. It was him! Still as handsome as ever too. She stared at him, frozen in space, that awkward, shy girl she always was around him making her reappearance.

  Wonderful, she thought sarcastically.

  She had to force her mind to get her body moving again, to get her feet to move like they were supposed to. Talking would be an issue. She’d worry about that after she got her limbs working.

  “Mia?”

  She nodded her head, unable to locate her voice. Stupid brain. The cap shaded his eyes, but she knew what she’d see—eyes the color of a cloudless sky. His smile lifted in mischievous glee. Mia didn’t realize how much she had missed him until that moment. He closed the distance between them and surprised her by wrapping her in his embrace.

  “Oh my God! It is you! Miss Bigtime!”

  She chuckled and squeezed him tight, careful not to spill her hot coffee on him. He pushed her away and stared at her, a smile lighting up his handsome face. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m a junkie,” she said, holding up her coffee cup. “I was on my way to the studio when the need for coffee overpowered the need to be on time.”

  “Do you have some time? My shop is just down the road . . .”

  “Of course I do!” She’d just have to deal with Marty’s anger because she was not missing this chance to be with an old friend.

  Tom was a furniture designer-slash-carpenter. He did it all. Her bandmates and Marc all had multiple pieces of his amazing furniture in their homes—tables, leather chairs, sofas. She definitely wanted to see more of the furniture—and of Tom.

  With a sinful glint in his eyes, his smile grew. He grabbed her hand and gave her a slight tug before leading her to his shop. She waited while he opened a set of double doors, leading them down a short hallway to the main display room. It was open and airy. The walls were a stark white plaster lined with beautiful photos of his creations in their new homes. The floor was a high-polished concrete that reminded Mia of a gray-veined white marble. Some of his pieces were on raised platforms. Others, like the chairs and sofas, were set up like a café setting, his tables part of the display.

  Tom excused himself to check his messages in his office and she used that time to study the pictures on the wall. She looked at each picture as she made her way to his office at the back of the building, yearning to have some of the pieces in her house. She had always wanted him to make her some furniture, but she’d been in that crappy studio apartment at the time. Now she had the space and could afford it. And what better time than now to redecorate.

  Crossing the room, Mia stood in the doorway of his very masculine office. It was much darker than the display room. The far wall and the one to the right were the same brick as the outside. The other walls were painted a deep mahogany. The floors were old knotted pine stained a deep chocolate brown. The entire space looked lived in. His designs were scattered on the long, L-shape
d table on the left side of the room.

  She lifted her eyes from the space to Tom. He stood behind a monstrous, wood desk, jotting down something in a spiral notebook as he listened to his voice mail.

  He hung up the phone and smiled at her. “Sorry about that.”

  She returned his smile, surprised at how easy it came. “It’s okay. I do have a question for you, though.”

  “What?”

  “Well . . . what would you say to building me some furniture?”

  “What kind of furniture?” he asked and she couldn’t mistake the interest in his voice.

  So she rattled off her wish list. “A new dining room set. A new bed. Actually, the entire bedroom really—tables, chairs. Ooh, and a big, sweet ass desk!”

  “You serious?”

  Mia turned from the table she was looking at and started towards him. “Very. My house is sparse and I’ve always wanted to have something made by you. Now that I’m—what did you call me? Miss Bigtime? Anyway, now I can afford this. So, can you do this for me?” she asked, touching his forearm, before raising her head and looking into his eyes, the color of a bright cloudless sky.

  There was a time she had a crush on Tom—many moons ago. They shared one kiss at a party—a kiss that had turned her legs to putty. But nothing ever came from that and they’d carried on as friends.

  “I can. I’d want to come over and get measurements—especially for the dining room. And I’d like to see what your style is, which will help me with my designs. I think I can come over next Monday, but let me check my calendar first.”

  He took her hand and led her further into his office. As he flipped through the calendar on his desk, her stomach did the same. “It looks like I’ve got the afternoon free . . .”

  Monday. Four days until he was at her house. She swallowed when she noticed that he expected her to speak.

  “Sounds good.”

  “Where are you living now?”

  “Lincoln Park. Near the zoo.”

  “Nice,” he said, his hand still holding hers. “Why don’t you give me your contact info?”