“No, Mia. No. You need to hear everything, you need to let me explain.”
“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANYTHING MORE!” she screams. Tears are streaming down her face, and her hand is clutching her stomach again.
My eyes are stinging from her pain. I rub them roughly with my hand.
“I have to go,” she says in an eerily small voice, her eyes sweeping to her car. “I have to get out of here.”
A fist of absolute agony twists in my chest.
She runs for her car, unlocking it on her approach. I scramble after her, grabbing her arm, trying to keep her with me.
“Don’t go,” I plead. “Not like this. Please, Mia. Just stay, talk to me. I can fix this. I will fix this.”
Her empty eyes lift to mine. “This isn’t fixable … I’m not fixable. I was broken a long time ago beyond repair.”
She yanks her arm from my hand, climbs in her car, and drives away, leaving me in a cloud of dust and agony.
I don’t realize I’m sitting on the gravel until I feel Dad’s hand on my shoulder.
“I’m so sorry, Jordan. I’m sorry that you’re paying for the mistakes Belle made a long time ago.”
I scrub my face with my hands, then get to my feet.
“No … I just … I can’t lose her. I have to make this right. I’m gonna go after her—”
“No.” He places a firm hand on my shoulder, holding me in place. “That’s not a good idea. If you go after her now, it could only make things worse. Give her time to cool down, process her hurt.”
“But what if she doesn’t come back?” The pain in my chest twists to pure f**king agony. I rub at the ache, feeling breathless.
“Her things are here, Jordan. She has to come back for them.”
“No.” I shake my head, knowing how she left everything she owned behind in Boston when she ran. “Material things don’t matter to her. She left everything behind in Boston, so a few clothes left behind won’t make her come back here.”
A look of concern twists his expression for a moment. Then he pats my shoulder. “She cares about you, a lot. She’ll come back. If she doesn’t, then we’ll find her.”
“How?”
He puts his arm around my shoulders, and starts to steer me back inside. “Have you forgotten that your old man used to be a cop? Finding people is what I’m good at.” He smiles, trying to be helpful, positive, encouraging.
I nod, not really feeling it because my fear isn’t not finding her. I’ll track the earth until the day I do.
No, my fear is what will be waiting for me when I do see her again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mia
There’s nothing.
No thoughts in my mind.
No pain in my body.
No ache in my heart.
Just one focus. One aim.
I slam on the brakes in the grocery store parking lot.
Sliding my sunglasses on, I grab my purse and head inside.
I get a cart. Then I hit the aisles.
There’s no conscious thought. Just need. Only need.
My cart is filling quickly. I’m eating already. A bag of chips already torn open and gone. A pack of candy half-eaten.
If people are staring, I don’t care to see.
The cashier attempts small talk. I don’t reply.
I bag my food, pay and leave.
Then I drive my car to the motel at the edge of town, the one I came to the other day.
Most people come to motels during the day to have affairs. I come to eat. To hide my shame.
Yet, in this moment it doesn’t feel so shameful anymore.
Just necessary.
A means to an end … an end I can’t currently see.
I check in at the desk. One night. I don’t need any more than that.
I just need to get this out of my system. Then I’m leaving town.
Once I have the key to my room, I go back to my car and get my bags of food.
I let myself in the room and dump the bags on the bed.
It’s not the room I was in the other day, but it looks exactly the same.
The same cheap, dirty, stale overused room. It feels right to be here.
That’s what I am. Cheap, stale and overused.
I foolishly let myself think otherwise. Let myself think I was worth something … that I meant something to someone … him.
Jordan.
It hurts to think his name.
I bang my hands against my forehead, forcing him out, but he won’t go.
So I go over to the age old television and turn it on. I want to drown out the pain in my head with meaningless, but the knowledge still creeps in and cripples me.
Music from the television flows into the room, filling every empty corner with Rihanna’s “Diamonds”.
Pain lances through me. I catch a sob with a fist to my mouth as I sink to the floor.
How could he…? How could she…?
Stop, Mia. Stop now.
You know how to take the pain away.
I crawl over to the bed and rip open the first thing I lay my hand on.
Shoving it in my mouth, I chew quickly, swallowing. There’s no taste. Just relief. The relief that always comes with this.
I drag a bag down from the bed, emptying its contents to the floor.
I tear open another packet – cookies. I shove them in my mouth, chewing, trying to eat as many as I can as quickly as possible.
But the food is sticking, like my body is ready to reject already.
I swallow hard, forcing it down, and grab the bottle of soda I bought, downing some, lubricating my dry throat.