27
MIA
Two months later
“Paige, I’m seriously dying to hear about the rest of your date, but I gotta let you go… I’m late for work; I’m just running out the door now.” I scramble to slip my shoes on and grab the keys off the counter, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder. I open my apartment door, back outside into the hallway, and lock my door, barely managing not to drop anything. I turn to rush down the hallway. “I’ll call you after—” I’m unable to form any more words because when I look up, my eyes land on the face of the man I still miss so much that it physically hurts.
John.
He’s standing at the end of the hallway, having just rounded the corner. My mouth drops open, and a shiver runs down my arms. I can feel tears already welling in my eyes. I don’t know what he’s doing here, or what he’s about to say to me, but I’m so overwhelmed at just the sight of him.
“Mia? Are you okay?” Paige asks in my ear.
“Um,” is all I can manage.
“Is it John?” she asks quietly.
She knew about this?
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay, I’m gonna go… hear him out, Mia. Don’tbemadatmecallmelaterbye!” She hangs up in a hurry, and I don’t have time to process her apparent deceit. John’s eyes are still glued to mine, but neither of us has moved an inch. I take my phone and slide it into my pocket, my mouth still partially open in shock.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper. He seems to come unstuck, and he starts slowly moving in my direction. I wipe the tears from my face with my sweater sleeve.
“Mia...”
Oh damn, my heart. I missed that voice.
“Can I come in? I’d like to talk to you, if you have time.”
I stand frozen in place, trying to form thoughts in my head.
“Um, well, I’m late for work…”
But screw work.
“I’ll shoot my boss an email. Come in.” I manage to pull my eyes away from him and turn around to unlock my door. Pushing it open, I go back inside the apartment and hold the door open for him. He walks in behind me, pushing his lips together and looking at the floor as he passes me.
Man, he smells good. He smells like warmth, salt, and everything else I desperately miss.
John takes the black bag that’s slung over his shoulder and sets it gently on the floor next to the couch, turning to face me. I shut the door and pull my phone out to email my boss. I send her a quick message and look back up, not sure what I’m supposed to do next. What is he doing here? In my apartment? What the hell’s going on?
“How are you?” he asks me. There’s a softness to his voice that makes my knees feel weak.
“I’m all right. What are you doing here, John?” I cautiously move closer to where he’s standing, stopping a few feet in front of him. I can’t pinpoint it, but he definitely seems different. Lighter, somehow?
“I needed to talk to you.”
“How did you know where I live? Paige, I’m assuming?”
He looks guilty. “Yeah… sorry, I didn’t mean to be sneaky about it. But I wanted to talk to you in person. I found Paige on Facebook and she helped me out.”
Good ‘ole Facebook.
“She also told me you aren’t seeing anyone else, or I wouldn’t have come.” His eyes shift down to the floor.
“Okay…”
“Mia… there’s so much I want to say to you.” He takes a deep breath, and his eyes lock with mine, looking directly into my soul. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come to you. I wish I could have come after you the second you walked out of my house; believe me, I wanted to. But I knew I wasn’t good enough for you, Mia. I knew without a doubt that you deserved someone who could give you more than I could then, as much as it tore me up inside to admit it.”
“Then why are you here?” My voice cracks, and I hate it.
“I’ve been doing a lot of work on myself over the past few months. I needed to make sure I was good enough for you before I came to see you. That I could be what you deserve. I’ve been seeing a therapist who specializes in helping veterans with PTSD.”
What?
“You have?” I ask in disbelief, my brows lifting. My eyes fill with more tears. I’m just so happy that he’s getting the help he needs.
“Yes. She’s been helping me a lot. I’ve still got a long ways to go, Mia, but I couldn’t wait any longer before seeing you.” The tears start falling again, and my throat gets tighter. I look down and wipe the tears, trying to make sense of my emotions.
“I love you, Mia.”
My eyes fly back up to his. He loves me? I’m so shocked at his presence and what he’s saying to me that I can’t seem to form any words.
It’s not lost on me how ironic this is. In an amusing turn of events, John is the one pouring his heart out, and I’m the one unable to speak. Go figure.
“I love you, Mia,” he repeats. I can see his eyes starting to get glossy and turn red. “And I don’t just love you because you make me feel less shitty. I love you because of who you are, and that has nothing to do with my shit. I love you. I love the way you make friends with everyone you meet, including Hazel, who, by the way, told me to tell you that it’s bad manners to leave without saying goodbye. I love the way you love your family and friends. I love that you love old classic movies, and that you’re a hopeless romantic. I love that you’re optimistic and live your life to the fullest. I love your bravery. I could go on and on, Mia. And yes, I love the way you make me feel, but not because you make me feel less miserable, but because you make every part of me feel more alive.”
A shiver runs down my spine.
He loves me. He’s never opened up to me like this. Ever.
He starts to inch his way closer to me, and my heart starts beating faster. His mouth slowly starts to turn up into a smile.
“Are you gonna say anything?” he teases me gently. All of a sudden, my brain reconnects with my body, and I can’t hold it inside for a second longer.
I close the distance between us and throw my arms around his neck, while simultaneously jumping and wrapping my legs around him. I don’t waste my time with words; I just press my lips to his, and his grip tightens around my waist. He opens his mouth and kisses me back, one hand under my butt and the other hand running up my back to rest on the back of my head. I feel like I can’t get close enough to him, so I squeeze him as hard as I possibly can, trying to make up for the time we missed out on. Eventually, I break away and press my forehead to his, bringing both of my hands to his cheeks.
I look him in the eye. “I love you too, Jonathon Byrd. Now take me to my bedroom.” His eyes sparkle, and his mouth curves into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his face as he carries me down the hall to my room.
* * *