It really did disconnect that time.
“Can find her on Facebook and tell her I’m sorry,” I whispered to no one, then put the phone back on the hook slowly.
I wasn’t going to make it to our all-day date, hangover or not.
And she was going to hate me for it.
––––––––
Mia
“He’ll be here, Mia. It’s Ollie.”
Dinora was normally the first one to tell me when a man was a piece of shit, yet here she was defending Ollie for blowing me off. I was already having a really shitty weekend after Anthony decided to let us know he got out of jail, and based on how he looked, he’d been out for longer than he’d ever tell me.
I’d have bet he got out right after our last phone call and didn’t once think about stopping by to see his son. Even when he did come, he waited until ten o’ clock on a Friday night, then cussed me out for not letting him see Rio. He was sleeping, and Anthony was drunk, there was no way in hell I was going to let him in our house.
Still, I’d been calling Ollie all that night and all Saturday morning without an answer. At first, I was just sad he was busy and I couldn’t vent to him, then I was annoyed he didn’t respond back at all, then I was angry when I woke up without a peep.
But now?
Now I was starting to worry something had happened to him. “I know. He’s never not answered me. No matter what’s going on, he responds within like ten minutes, always.” Unless he’s with another woman. I tried not to have those thoughts. Ollie wasn’t like Anthony, he wasn’t like any of the asshole guys that disappeared every so often and cheated on me.
He was Ollie.
Unfortunately though, he never came, never called, never texted. Rio — my tiny empath — sensed something was wrong and glued himself to me the entire weekend, and every time he asked where Ollie was, I found myself making up excuses. I wasn’t new to making excuses for men to Rio, but it was new to be making them for Ollie, and the fact I had to at all stung. It stung worse than with anyone else, because with the very few others I allowed to meet Rio, lying to cover their asses was expected. With Ollie ... it just wasn’t.
When I woke up on Monday, I had to force myself to get out of bed and go to work. I had a horrible feeling in my gut, fear and stress making every night without him restless and broken. He said he loved me, there’s no way he’d just disappear.
My day at work went as expected for someone who hardly slept. I dropped things, ran into people, screwed up a few orders. I was a mess, and when I left Ed’s office after being scolded and told to get my shit together, I saw him.
He was sitting in his usual booth with his head in his hands, making all the anger I was carrying leave my body. Something had happened, that much was clear, but more than anything I was relieved my Ollie was alive. I rushed over, happy my lunch didn’t technically start until after my lecture and I slid into the same side to put an arm around him. I assumed he relapsed with gambling, or something horrible happened to his house, or worse, someone he loved — but the last thing I expected to see was his beautiful face all bruised and cut up.
That anger I thought left came back in full force, and I didn’t even know who to point it at. “Who the fuck did this to you?”
“I did,” he said quietly. “Might not have been my fist, but it was my fault. I’m sorry, Mia. I wanted to call, but I didn’t have your number memorized yet.”
“It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but he didn’t need anything else on his shoulders. “Talk to me, what happened?”
His hands shook slightly as he tore little pieces off a paper napkin. “Went for a beer. Got in a bar fight ... spent the weekend in jail.” He laughed bitterly, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. “Tried so fucking hard to let it go.”
The word “jail” had me stiffening and looking away. How many times did I wait around for Anthony without knowing he got locked up? How many excuses did I make up for Rio’s sake while he was sitting in jail? Was I really going to go down that road again? I looked back at Ollie and deflated, because yes ... yes, I was.
Ollie was different, he was worth the patience here, and going to jail wasn’t some common thing for him. Everything about his situation was different. “Let what go, baby?” My voice was small and unsure, but I still felt like Ollie was only giving me pieces of a puzzle.
“Remember I told you about why I’m here in Domingo? About the people who were living in my house before me?” he asked, then finally met my eyes. “I punched him in the face. I thought I was over it and one look at him set me off. I’m no good, Mia. I can’t protect you, I can’t even stay out of fucking jail. I was supposed to be better for you. I’m sorry.”
I’d never seen him look worse. Not just the bruises on his face, but the dullness in his eyes. The sadness and disappointment there. I reached out to touch his face gently, needing him to hear me. “You are good, Ollie. You’re the best man I’ve ever met in my life. I love you.”
“I won’t do this to you,” he argued. “I haven’t changed. It’s always been the fucking same with me, I get everything I want then blow it all up just for kicks. You deserve better than that, Mia. So does Rio, and Dinora and her boys.”
“What are you saying, Oliver?” I knew exactly what he was saying, but he was going to have to get the words out this time. I wasn’t about to let my man go easily. “Say it.”
“I’m saying I don’t deserve you. Look at me, Mia.” He gestured down to his dirty clothes and the bruises all over him. “I can’t even say this is just a one-time thing,” he admitted. “So you should ... you should just let me up. I only came here to tell you in person instead of disappearing.”
I knew exactly where to point my anger again, and it was firmly at my idiot of a boyfriend. “So you came here after disappearing all weekend to dump me while I’m at work, yeah? Is that what I’m hearing?” I stood up abruptly and took a deep, shaky breath. “Get outside and wait for me, now. You’re not fucking dumping me in the middle of my work shift in front of my customers, do you hear me? Go!”
His eyes widened so much it would’ve been funny if I wasn’t about to kill him. “Fuck. Yeah, okay! Okay.”
Ollie scrambled out of the booth and dashed for the door, glancing over his shoulder at me like he was exactly as afraid as he should’ve been.
It took a lot not to punch the nosey couple watching us in the face, but I knew that wouldn’t help anyone here. What would help was me getting through to Ollie, and letting him know this self-destructive path wasn’t one he was allowed to go on.
Not anymore.
He was mine.