FATE AND BAD DECISIONS

Mia's POV

We stepped out into the cold and Tom steadied me when I wobbled on the curb.

“I’ll drive. Where is your key?” he asked, already fishing for my keys. “You’re in no shape to drive.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, but the sidewalk tilted.

He didn’t argue, just unlocked and opened the passenger door of my car and waited — I gave in, rattled off my address, and climbed in.

Five minutes later he killed the engine in front of my building. I tried the handle twice before he came around and pulled me out. My legs folded the second my feet hit the ground.

“Jesus—” he muttered, and suddenly I was off the floor, his arms under my knees and back, carrying me like I weighed nothing.

My face was against his neck, leather and whiskey and something warm that made my heart beat fast for all the wrong reasons.

“Code,” he said at the door.

“Four-seven-zero-nine,” I mumbled into his jacket.

He punched it in, shouldered the door open, and carried me inside.

The living room was dark except for the streetlight bleeding through the blinds.

I struggled to get my hands together as I clapped twice… The lights turned on.

Then he walked towards the nearest couch… Suddenly, he missed the tiny step down into the sunken area, and stumbled hard.

I slid down his front, my back hitting the cushions first, his body following, one knee between my thighs, hands braced on either side of my head to stop his fall.

Our faces were an inch apart…

I could feel his breath warm on my lips.

I should kiss him.  

I should want this.  

He’s big, solid, still stupidly handsome despite his age.

But the second I thought about closing that inch, Chris’s face flashed behind my eyes and my chest locked up. 

Kissing anyone else that isn't Chris felt like cheating. I was still his, even after everything. How pathetic is that?

Tom’s voice came out barely a whisper. “I can’t do this — Not when you’re this messed up. I’m not that kind of guy.”

I realized my fingers were still twisted tight in the front of his jacket…

I let go fast, hands dropping to the couch.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

He pushed himself up, then started for the door.

I sat up, dizzy. “Wait. It’s late. Just… stay. Shower’s down the hall, second door. Towels are clean. Sleep in the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m good here,” he said, nodding at the couch.

I opened my mouth to argue and I felt the room spinning once again — I was out before I hit the pillow.

Morning light stabbed my eyes…

I noticed a blanket tucked around me… I shifted and felt a wave of breeze against my skin.

That was when I realized…

My dress was gone. My leggings. My bra. Everything. I was completely naked under the blanket.

I clutched the blanket against my chest…

  

He saw me.  

He undressed me.  

He touched me while I was passed out.

Then I saw him as he walked out of my bedroom with his hair damp, fully dressed, and keys in his hand.

“You fucking pervert!” I yelled, clutching the blanket to my chest tighter. “You took my clothes off? You saw everything? What the hell is wrong with you?”

He stopped.

He didn't seem to react to my outburst…

“I didn’t see a thing. And I sure as hell didn’t touch you like that.”

“Bullshit! Then why am I naked?”

He pointed up at the corner of the ceiling. “Camera. Motion-activated. Check the footage from last night. You were sweating vodka and shaking like a leaf. I took your clothes off so you wouldn’t freeze or puke on yourself. Did it with my eyes shut, the same way I used to undress my wife — ex wife now — when she came home wrecked. You can watch the clip, you’ll see I never even looked.”

I stared at the little red light on the camera I forgot I even had.

He grabbed his helmet off the counter. “I’m out. Lock the door behind me.”

“Wait,” I reached for my purse and brought out some money. “Take this back so you could get your bike.”

He stared at the money, then at me. “Please, take it. Don't reject it.”

He smiled, stretching forth his hand to receive the money. “Thank you.”

He should be going right? But he didn't. He reached for his pocket and grabbed his pen.

I watched him scribble something unknown on one of the notes I gave him. Then he stretched it towards me. “This is enough for me,” he said while he gave me the note he scribbled something on while holding the remaining notes.”

I watched him as he walked out…

When he had gone I stared at the note — He had written his phone number.

I believe now that flirting runs in their family…

Being Chris's stepmother is crossing a boundary. I know it would cause a lot of problems. So, to justify my future actions, I decided to ride down to my sister, Maggie's place in the evening.

When it was exactly 6pm after doing absolutely nothing all day other than wallow in my misery and potential harmful actions, I drove down to Maggie's place.

I knocked on the door twice then the door opened. Shortly afterwards her little kid ran and hugged me while he shouted. “Mom! Aunty Mia is here!”

I returned the gesture as I took a few steps inside the house while still glued to the little boy that just hugged me.

“Mia! It is a surprise I'm seeing you!” Maggie yelled, cleaning her hands with a napkin.

“I just came around to say hi since I was passing.”

Maggie stared at me without no words. “You still suck at lying. Why don't you sit?” She gestured to the chair. “What can I get you? Milk or juice?”

“Apple juice would do.” I said, easing myself on the couch.

“Aunty Mia! When will you take me to the park like you promised me last six months.”

“Hey! Leave my sister alone and go do your homework.” I heard Maggie's voice as I smiled.

I watched her kid go upstairs…

This was the kind of family I wanted to build with Chris. I wanted us to travel the world, fuck on the cushions and anywhere horniness held us… then when we are ready, we'd settle down and have kids like this.

Maggie came back with two glasses of apple juice and dropped onto the couch beside me. Her kid had already disappeared upstairs.

“So talk,” she said, “You only show up unannounced when the world is on fire.”

I swallowed. “Chris is marrying Isabel.”

She blinked once. Then twice. “Your Chris and Your Isabel?”

I nodded.

Maggie set her glass down so hard juice sloshed over the rim. “I’m going to kill him… Slowly.”

“There’s more.” I rubbed my palms on my jeans. “Last night I met his dad at a bar. I thought he was just a random guy, never knew he was alive. Chris always told us his dad was dead.”

Maggie’s mouth opened, closed, opened again. “Hold up. Chris has a living father he lied about for two years?”

“Yeah. And I… I got this insane idea.” My voice dropped. “If I married his dad, I’d be Chris’s stepmom. I’d ruin everything for him the way he ruined me.”

There was silence that became uncomfortable for me…

Then Maggie started laughing. Not a funny laugh, more like she couldn’t believe what just came out of my mouth.

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” she said when she finally stopped. “Mia, this isn’t a soap opera. You don’t marry a stranger to get revenge on your ex. That’s unhinged. That’s lifetime-movie, end-up-on-the-news unhinged.”

“But—”

“No.” She grabbed my hands, squeezed hard. “You’re hurt, yes? You’re drunk on pain. But you are not throwing your whole life away to become some old biker’s wife just so you can watch Chris choke on the word Mom. Promise me you’re dropping this.”

I stared at her for a long second. The fantasy cracked, then shattered.

Even though the reason I came here is to see someone who'd justify my actions because I don't want to regret anything… I have to do what I think I should do.

“I promise,” I whispered.

She hugged me so tight I could barely breathe.

***

When I got home that night, I dug the crumpled twenty out of my purse, the one with Tom’s number scrawled on it in blue ink.

I wrapped it into a ball and said to myself. “If I can make more baskets than loss in three tries, then I'd burn the paper.”

I turned to the dustbin and threw the note thrice.

The first one entered…

I missed the other…

Then… I threw the last one and unfortunately for me, it entered.

I heaved a sigh as I carried the note to the kitchen sink, flicked the lighter, and watched the flame eat the bill and the digits along with it.

I watched the ashes curled black and I knew there was no backing out anymore.

I dropped into bed still smelling like smoke and leftover vodka.

I was finally drifting off, face mashed into the pillow, when my phone started vibrating like it had a personal vendetta.

I groaned, rolled over, and squinted at the screen.

It was an unknown number.

I almost swiped ignore, but something stopped me.

I hit accept and put it on speaker.

“Hello?”

A low chuckle first, then that rough voice I already knew too well.

“Hey, girl.”

Tom…

I shot upright so fast the room spun. “How the hell do you have my number?”

“Magic,” he said, amused.

“Cut the shit. Tell me.”

Silence for a beat. Then…

“Shake Shack, Dupont Circle. Tomorrow, 7pm sharp. I’ll tell you everything. Don't be late.”

My mouth opened and closed. “Are you seriously asking me on a date right now?”

“Call it repayment for taking you home and accusing me wrongly. Call it whatever you want. Just don’t stand me up, Mia. Thank you.”

Click…. And the line went dead.

I stared at the phone like it had grown teeth.

Two thoughts slammed into each other so hard my pulse roared in my ears.

One — This man just summoned me like he already owns a piece of my night.

Two — The way he said my name, it was so deliberate and almost possessive. It sounded exactly like Chris used to when he wanted something he knew I’d give him.

Father and son… Same blood… Same game?

Or worse… Did Chris tell him who I was? Did Chris send his own dad to finish breaking me?

I dragged both hands down my face until my skin hurt.

Then it got bad when Maggie’s warnings echoed in my head, “This is unhinged, Mia.”

But the curiosity of what I'd find was already keeping me disturbed.

Tomorrow at seven I was going to walk straight into whatever trap they’d set.

And if Chris was behind it…?

He'd know I'm both sweet and a psycho.

I will let him watch what happens when I stop playing nice.