About Last Night

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

Kit cut in with, “I’m Kit. And you are?”

Quinn curled his lip at Kit and muttered a grating, “The guy she’s f—” I closed my eyes, praying for him not to finish that sentence. To my surprise, he amended his track of words, glaring at me all the while. “We’re seeing each other.”

Kit sounded surprised. “Mia, is this true?”

“No,” I said, but my voice shook. “It’s not true.” I turned to Quinn, seeing red. “Seeing each other implies there’s a plan to be more.”

No one spoke for a while.

Kit touched my arm, and I could see Quinn’s eyes narrow. “Maybe I should go, let you work this out with your…” he turned to face Quinn, “…friend.”

That was when Quinn spoke, his words hitting me hard. “No. I’m leaving.” He walked past us, shoved his hands into his pockets, and then turned back and smiled, cruelly. “Every trick in bed she knows because of me, buddy. Taught her myself.” My mouth parted in shock and my breath left me in a whoosh. I felt as though I would faint. Quinn turned and walked away, calling out, “You’re welcome.” Cruel, painful words from the man I loved. Our beautiful time together twisted into something filthy and lewd. Our friendship destroyed.

The door closed behind him, leaving me to stare in shock at his retreating back. My chest ached and I absently rubbed at the burn.

The moment he left, a gaping hole formed in the place my heart used to be.

Something told me I would never be the same.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Quinn

I needed to hit something, feel the pain radiate through my knuckles. Feel something.

Seeing Mia holding hands with another man, smiling after a date together, didn’t bode well. I knew the time would come, when she decided she deserved more, but I didn’t expect it so soon.

Walking into my kitchen, I opened the cabinet, pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels, and took a long pull from the bottle. My eyes shut tightly and I rubbed at my chest. I’d never felt like this before. I didn’t get jealous over women. Women got jealous over me. What the fuck was wrong with me?

My own words haunted me. “Every trick in bed she knows because of me, buddy. Taught her myself. You’re welcome.”

I groaned, crushing the heel of my palms into my eyes. I was disgusted with myself, with the way I talked to her. I’d never had such a violent reaction to a woman before. It felt as though my insides were twisting into knots.

God, I was an asshole. Why the fuck did I say that? She would never forgive me. I wouldn’t forgive me.

I brought the bottle to my lips and, taking another swig, coughed at the heat streaking down my throat. I turned, put my back against the wall, and slid down to the cold, tiled floor. I stared into the wall for a long while.

I was pretty sure I had just ruined whatever chance I might’ve had with the only woman I ever loved.

My mind worked a mile a minute. I wasn’t sure how, but I was going to fix this. I had to. Mia was my everything, and I couldn’t live without her.

I would fix this.

I would.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Mia

Mom talked about how the nice man who owned the local grocery store had a heart attack the week before, leaving his children to run it for him. They were nice kids, she said, kids who cared about their parents.

It was a stab at Harry and me, I was sure. And when Harry’s eyes met mine, he rolled them hard. Still, it wasn’t enough to make me laugh. Nothing could’ve made me laugh. I was still sore from the previous night, at Quinn’s hurtful words.

Mom wasn’t happy we only came to visit her once a week. “See,” she uttered, picking at the salad by her lasagna, “those kids know they only have so long with their parents. They know they have a duty to them,” she said in way of a guilt trip.

My heart started to pound. Mom didn’t even know what she was getting herself into.

“To go on leave from their own jobs and take care of the family business...those kids must really love their parents.”

Harry cut in. “We love you, Mom.” He grinned. “I’d take over the family business for you.” He picked at his lasagna, happy with himself. “If we had one.”

Mom shrugged then sighed. “You don’t even visit anymore. I guess my kids are just too busy for me.”

That was it. I stood so fast that my chair made a harsh whining noise, almost falling back. “Thanks for dinner, Mom. I’ve got to get going.”

“Mia,” she called out, stunned at my sudden departure. This behavior was not like me. Not like me at all. But I was hurting, badly, and I didn’t have time for an insecure woman’s hang-ups.

I walked a short distance then turned, glaring at my mom. “Fuck it.”

She gasped. “Mia! What has gotten into you?”

I took a calming breath then started, “You know why those kids like their parents, Ma?” I uttered pointedly, “Because they’re likable.” She blinked at me. I went on, “If I had a parent like that, chances are I’d be more likely to hang around. But unfortunately for Harry and me, you are what we are stuck with.”

Harry’s mouth gaped.

I was on a role and nothing could stop me. I looked at her with sadness in my eyes. “Something tells me that Mr. Sullivan wouldn’t make his children feel like failures for their accomplishments.” I barked out a laugh. “Harry works in an office he hates. And he did it, because you told him working in a bar was unacceptable, Ma. You know what you told him the week after starting the job you wanted him to have?” I looked at my brother. “You told him the hours were too long and he’d never find a girlfriend that way.” I smiled at him, although it trembled. “He did something awesome, and it still wasn’t good enough.”

Mom watched me closely, her face pink.

“I went to college to get a fancy degree, and you know what I did when I came home with it?” I shook my head. “I gave it to you. I had the stupid diploma framed and gave it to you. You know why? Because you wanted it.” My voice cracked. “Well, I got it for you, Mom. And you know what I got in return?” My eyes filled with tears of frustration. “I got a lecture on how expensive college was and that I’d better make use of those skills to make my money’s worth.” A fat teardrop fell onto my cheek. “You never even told me you were proud of me. You didn’t come to my graduation. You never even said congratulations.”

My mother’s eyes filled with tears. Emotionally, I was done.

“With every achievement, you sabotage our happiness by bringing us down. You know what you’ve taught me?” I closed my eyes, ashamed of admitting this. “To aim low. Because we aren’t worth more.” Then I stood taller. “But you know what?” I looked to my brother, who had dipped his chin, hiding his face. “Harry is worth more.” I pointed to my chest. “I am worth more.” My lips quivered. “And sometimes, Ma,”—the bridge of my nose tingled—“you are a shitty mother.”

Without another word, I turned on my heel and left my mother’s house, feeling worse than what I had when I arrived.

My apartment door had someone banging on it. I should have answered it. Instead, I stayed in bed and hid under the covers.

Whoever it was gave up, and I was thankful for the silence.

It took time, but I finally fell asleep, tears staining my pillow.

Quinn called the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that.

My phone was blowing up with missed calls and text messages. All of which I ignored.

There was nothing I wanted to say to him, but his messages were breaking my heart.

Quinn: I’m the world’s biggest asshole. Please answer the phone, Mia.

Quinn: Baby, please. I’m so sorry. I know you don’t want to talk to me and I get it, but please give me a minute to apologize.

Quinn: I feel like shit. I hate what I said and I didn’t mean it. I don’t even know why I said it. I hate myself probably as much as you hate me right now. But

I’ll say it again. I’m so sorry, Mia. So sorry.

Quinn: Please, Mia. Talk to me.

Quinn: Okay, I get the message. I’ll stop, for now.

Then finally, the one message that cut me deeper than the others.

Quinn: I was jealous.

What was I meant to do with that? Was that Quinn admitting that he felt more for me? Or was that Quinn admitting he didn’t like people playing with his toys?

I didn’t know what to think, so I did what I did best. I pretended I was okay.

Harry came to my apartment the day after the Mom incident. I answered the door and slumped, ashamed of myself. “Hey.”

With his hands in his pockets, he attempted to smile. “Hey. Can I come in?”

I pushed the door open and stepped aside. “Soda?”

“Yeah.” I went to the fridge, got us both a diet soda, and sat on my beanbag. Harry sipped his drink, searched my face, and then asked what he was obviously dying to. “The other night with Mom…where did that come from?”

I shrugged. “Years of brewing, I suppose.” Then I added quietly, “When you bite your tongue, it builds up, you know? It’s like I didn’t have a choice, Har. It just spewed out.” His lip twitched. I asked, “How’s Mom?”

He blew out a breath. “Sad.” Shit. My chest ached with the tidbit. Harry added, “But I think she needed to hear it, and although I wouldn’t have done it in quite a loud and dramatic way, I think you did good.”

I was not expecting him to say that. My throat thickened. “You don’t think it was harsh?”