Mercedes
When I got off work, I headed straight home. My mother was at the kitchen table, surrounded by a cloud of smoke. “Mercedes.” She got up out of her seat. “We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t,” I said and walked through the kitchen toward my bedroom door.
“What is going on with you?”
“Mom, I don’t have time for this right now.”
“When are you going to have time? You’ve been avoiding us all week. What happened?”
“I can’t do this.” I walked into my room and locked the door behind me.
They had no business getting involved in this situation. They thought they knew how I was, and what was wrong with me. Once I told them what happened, they’d tell me exactly what I needed to do. If I didn’t do it, they’d come down on me. Neither of them would shut up about it. Years later, I’d still be hearing about the bad decision I made.
My mom had the decency to leave me alone while I was in my room, but she was waiting for me when I walked out. “Mercedes, tell me what is happening.” She butted her cigarette and stood up to look at me with her hands on her hips. “And if you think I’m letting you wallow in there without saying a word about it, you’re wrong.”
“Listen to your mother,” my father called out from his bedroom.
“I don’t owe you guys an explanation.”
“What did he do?” Dad asked.
I turned around and shut his door. When I did, my mother was standing right behind me. “Just tell me if he hurt you.”
“No, Mom, he didn’t.”
“Then what the heck happened?”
I sidestepped her. “I don’t need this. I won’t take it. You leave me alone, both of you.” I ran back to my car outside.
I had everything planned out. I was going to go to Jake’s house and do exactly what I had to do. Then I saw Jake. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, and he’d cut his face where he’d obviously been shaving an overgrown beard.
His eyes were a dull dagger, tired and weary, but they pierced through my shell the second I saw him. I couldn’t look at him. If I did, I’d have to see what I’d done to him. There’d
be heartbreak, turmoil, and self-loathing, all inflicted by a cold-hearted bitch that led on the wrong man, all because she couldn’t control herself.
He wasn’t going to hide his pain. That was a part of what he was doing. He wanted me to know that he cared, and how much it hurt for me to abandon him—as if I didn’t already know. As if it hadn’t been breaking my heart.
He just stared at me while I kept my head down. “Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” I shouldn’t have come. I felt myself wavering. I couldn’t do this. I felt so terrible for leaving him, and now I had to see the consequences.
“Mercedes…”
I rushed up and hugged him. It should’ve been a kiss, and not a soft, gentle one either. A powerful, passionate kiss. The kind that makes you feel like you’re flying. But I couldn’t do that. I had to stay strong and remember what he was.
I stepped back and took a quick look up at him. He wasn’t the same, not after what I did. Desire ripped through me. “I missed you.”
“You did?” he asked.
I nodded. “This whole time.”
“And you didn’t call? I tried, but you blocked my number.”
It was one blow after the other. I couldn’t hold up to this. “I’m sorry. I saw what you did, with the bills.”
“I’d do it a thousand times over. You must know that.”