“It’s okay, hija. I wanted some fresh air anyway.”
I try to smile and close my eyes and lean back against the cold surface of the fridge.
It hurts. But what hurts the most is the fact that still, even now, I miss him.
I miss the devil. A man who hasn’t thought of me for three weeks, who slapped me and called me a whore, who said he had many other women and thought nothing of me.
Was he lying about that?
Now I don’t even know what to believe.
The door squeaks as it always does when my mother comes back inside. But she doesn’t close it behind her. She just stands there until I look up, and when I do, I see her smiling.
“What is it, Mother?”
“Hija,” she says softly. “There is someone here to see you.”
Slowly, she moves aside, and I see him.
It’s like a punch to the chest.
Anton is standing in my doorway.
“Hey, Peaches.”
There goes my heart.
Someone please pick up the pieces.
I swallow hard and try to breathe, but my breath doesn’t come. My mother moves out of sight as the man who is technically still my husband approaches me. I would run, but I’m already backed into a corner. Like a frightened animal, I begin to panic.
“Get—get away from me!” I squeal.
“I’m sorry, Mia.”
“Oh, I bet you are!” I shout.
“Can we do this outside?” he asks. “Your brother is sleeping.”
“How—how do you know my brother is sleeping?” I want to argue with him, but he’s right. My brother goes to bed earlier than my mother and I. He moves closer and offers his hand, but I step out of the way and move past him to the door.
Once outside, I can almost breathe again. He closes the door behind me, and I unleash on him. “Three weeks! Three weeks and not a word!”
“I had things I had to attend to.”
“Things you had to attend to!?” I blurt out. “More whores to fuck?”
“Mia, please.” He comes toward me, but I lash out, slapping his hand away as though I could actually hurt him. The memory of the blow he gave me flares in my memory, and it’s like I’m back on my knees, sobbing in the street again.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, genuine emotion in his voice. “Charlie…he saw my weakness and he came at me.”
“Your weakness?”
“You, Mia. He knew I cared about you, and he made a move. What I did…it was the only way I could convince him that I didn’t love you. The only way I could keep you safe.”
“Bullshit!” I lash out. “If that was true, why didn’t you just come apologize!? Why didn’t you let me back into the house?”
“His men were following me,” he explains. For the first time, I can hear his voice falter. He moves closer. I let him. “I knew if I brought you back into my life, he would see through me. He would make a move on you, and it would be over. I couldn’t risk you, Mia. You’re the most important thing in my life.”