Read Mia Found (Starting Fires Book 3) Online
Authors: Makenzie Smith
“
No. You’re right, Mia. I need to be better for you.”
“
Oh hush.” I swatted his arm. “You’re perfect. Now let’s go or we’re going to be late.”
Paul smiled and walked out of the door. As I was shutting it, I took one more lingering look. This was where I’d given myself to him for the first time. I
would
miss it. Terribly. All of the lazy mornings cuddling in bed. With a sigh, I closed the door.
We’d still get those days. Paul wouldn’t lie to me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
PAUL’S MOTHER WAS ALREADY gone when we walked into his apartment and Ferdinand leapt through the living room to reach us.
“
I’ll take him for a walk,” I offered, giving his head a rub. “I’ve missed him while I’ve been away.”
“
Okay,” Paul said and I sensed something off. His shoulders were tense and he kept his back to me. Not able to get to the bottom of it with Ferdinand pushing into my legs, I grabbed his leash and headed out the door.
We made our usual circle around the complex, stopping to smell the same bushes and trees. Ferdinand spotted a squirrel and tried to chase it, but I dug my feet into the ground, keeping him on track.
“
Leave the poor thing alone, boy.”
With some struggle, I corralled him and we made it back to the apartment. Paul was sitting on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees. He wanted to tell me something and it was serious. A knot grew in my stomach and I went to the kitchen and filled Ferdinand’s bowl. While I was occupied, I tried to decide if I’d said or done anything in the last few hours to change Paul’s mood. Nothing came to mind.
“
Mia,” Paul said, and the tone sent a shiver down my spine. I didn’t answer him. “Mia,” he repeated. “Come here. I need to talk to you.”
Warily, I walked towards the couch to sit beside him.
“
Over there,” he said, pointing to the loveseat.
“
Okay.
What’s going on? You’re weirding me out.”
“
It’s just that…I was…” Paul ran a hand down his face before meeting my eyes. “In Florida. You said–you said you didn’t want me to talk about work. So I didn’t. But now…we’re here. And maybe I should have mentioned it then, but we just–we never get any time together and I didn’t want to make it about that. I wanted to focus on you.”
“
Paul? What is it?” My palms sweated and I fidgeted in my seat.
He swallowed and clasped his hands together. “I–I took the job in Florida.” Paul paused, gauging my reaction.
My mouth hung open and the only words that came were, “You what?”
“
They offered it to me on my last day. I–I wasn’t expecting it, but I start in three weeks.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. “What? You just…you just took the job? You didn’t talk to me about it? Or ask me how I felt? Three weeks? Are you kidding me? Three weeks?”
His hands come out and he started to stand, but sat back down. “It all happened so fast. They threw the contract at me and said I had to sign if I wanted it. Mia, it was a
great
offer. This doesn’t have to change anything for us. We can still make it work.”
A tear trickled down my cheek and I wiped it away. “You didn’t even ask me. How can you say it won’t change anything for us? You’ll be hundreds of miles away.”
“
I can come home on the weekends.” His eyes cut from his hands to my eyes in a nervous twitch. “Or you could…you could move with me.”
My breath left me.
Move with him?
Leave my family? Leave the only home I’ve ever known? Just like that?
In three weeks?
It was so unfair to spring this on me—to not consider my feelings at all. My tears came harder when I realized he’d slept with me knowing he would be leaving. After all his waiting, all the fear of hurting me when one of us might have to move and this is what it came down to. A sob tore from my chest that I quickly tried to hide. Screw him.
Paul joined me on the loveseat, putting his arms around me, but I flinched away. “You’re a…a selfish jerk!” I stood and grabbed my bags at the door. “I need to be away from you,” I said. “You hurt me.
This
hurts me, Paul. I’ve tried to be understanding of everything but you’re running away and leaving me behind.”
“
What?” Paul stood and walked to block the door. “I’m not leaving you behind. I said you can come with me! I want you to! I can support you while you try to find a job. We can make it work.”
Unable to focus or think straight, I took a step towards the door and his hands came up.
“
Wait,” he said. “I know you need time and I know this was sudden, but…don’t leave, Mia. Please.”
“
You’re the one leaving,” I bit out and stormed past him.
At home, my mind was reeling. I couldn’t wrap my head around any one thought. The painting I made ended up being nothing but a big black blob, and I threw it into the trash. Paul called me through the night and when I never answered, he showed up at my door.
It was late and when I didn’t respond, I knew he’d be too polite to continue banging, so I hovered—listening to his feet shuffle on the doormat.
“
Mia,” I heard through the wood. “Mia, please talk to me.”
I remained silent.
“
I…” His fist fell softly on the door. “If you’re there, if you can hear me…I know you need time. I know this is a lot to take in, but I meant everything I said. I want you with me. And I wanted…I wanted to do this differently.”
Paul said something else, but it was muffled like he’d said it softer. I heard his feet move to the stairs and I realized I had a finger on the wood, rubbing it with longing. I sighed and went to bed.
The next day, I packed another suitcase and called Gladys. She understood that I wanted a few extra days and ended the call with a vague comment about following my heart. I drove to my parents’ home, knowing they wouldn’t be there. They were out of town on a romantic getaway, and I had their house to myself. I didn’t even bother turning on the lights, shutting myself away in my old bedroom.
Over the next two days, Paul only texted once.
Whenever you’re ready, I’m here. We can do this however you want. My heart is yours.
I didn’t respond because I didn’t know what I wanted to say. I was so angry. My fury was hot and coursing through me. Underneath that was my pain. I felt cast aside. Unconsidered.
Moving was always going to be an option, a likely option for both of us, but I thought it would be something we’d discuss. I pictured us hammering out the details together, discussing our options openly, not being thrown into it in a whirlwind, forced to make changes and decisions in a rush.
That night I cried myself to sleep because despite how angry I was, I hated thinking about Paul leaving. So many variables were in the mix. Was I even ready to move to another state? On top of that, move in with my boyfriend? We’d only been dating a few months.
My parents would kill me.
And live with him, unemployed, while he supported me?
No. I couldn’t do it.
I wasn’t ready.
I woke the following morning achy and still exhausted. My sleep had been restless. Instead of facing my dilemma head on, I busied myself, unwilling to face the inevitable truth. I roamed around my parents’ house, watching movies and doing their laundry. Anytime my thoughts roamed to Paul, I found a new task to occupy me. My time alone was unproductive to my emotional turmoil.
By that night, Marlowe and Lucas began calling. When I didn’t answer, Marlowe left a voicemail. Reluctantly, I listened to it.
“
Listen, Mia. Paul filled me in on everything. And I know how bad this sucks. I know how bad
he
sucks. But we’re worried about you. No one knows where you went. You should know Lucas is out looking for you. Just…call someone okay?”
If Lucas was out looking for me, the first place he’d come would be my parent’s home. I didn’t want to face him. I didn’t want to face anyone. Glancing at the clock, I realized he’d be there within twenty minutes.
Lucas would be a bully and make me feel stupid and childish. Not to prove him wrong, I curled up on my childhood bed and pulled the covers over my head.
Maybe I was looking at this all wrong. Maybe it
could
work. Besides, Paul was an attractive, successful man. If I told him I couldn’t, he’d be snatched up by some hot, beach babe.
I nearly choked.
The idea of Paul touching another woman made me sick. The thought of him looking at anyone else with his honest eyes and lopsided smile made tears spring to my eyes.
By the time the front door opened, I was full on crying. A few moments later, Lucas pushed open my bedroom door and flicked on the light.
“
Mia?”
“
What?” I responded, my tears evident.
“
Thank God. You know I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Answer your damn phone.”
“
No!” I screamed, sounding like an angsty teenager.
My anger didn’t faze him. “Do you know how stupid you’re being?”
“
Stupid?” I sat up in the bed with a jerk of my hands. “Shut up, Lucas! You don’t know anything about what I feel. You’ve been listening to Paul and letting him fill your head with his...his…”
“
Shit,” he finished for me.
“
Yes! So SHUT UP!”
He rolled his eyes and looked to the ceiling. “God, you’re being so dramatic.”
“
Go away.”
“
Fine, but I’m calling Paul and telling him where you are.”
I threw myself back on the bed and cried harder. “He’s leaving,” I whined. “He took a job in Florida and he’s leaving in three weeks. He didn’t even tell me.”
Lucas was silent, but then moved towards the bed and sat at my feet.
“
But doesn’t he want you to come with him?”
“
So what! It’s three weeks away. Am I just expected to drop everything? Forget about the life I have here to go with him?”
He sighed. “I don’t have that answer. That’s something you have to decide for yourself.”
“
So wise.” My voice was nasally and dripping sarcasm.
“
Look, I don’t give a shit what you do. I’m only here because Marlowe was worried about you.”
“
And
you
weren’t?”
“
Not really. I figured if you wanted to be alone we should let you. But she’s…persistent. And I have to live with her, so…here I am.”
“
Well you found me. Tell her I’m fine and go on your way.”
“
Do you want to talk to him? He’s outside.”
I shot up. “What? Why?”
“
Because. He was at our house when I left. I offered to let him come along. Do you want to talk to him or not? I can tell him no and we can leave.”
Without even thinking about it, my feet hit the floor and I walked to the front door. Wanting to see him first, I peeked through the blinds.
He was standing on the edge of the porch, peering out into the yard. His shoulders were slumped, but his clothes and hair were still perfectly in place. It disappointed me. I wanted him to look crazed, wild, out of his mind.
My hand went to the knob, ready to let him have it, but I hesitated.
Paul crouched down and brought his hands to his face. They rubbed and rubbed, until finding their way to his hair. He messed and prodded until it was standing up on all ends. His attempt to smooth it down left strands still sticking up in places. When he stood, he brought his forehead to the post and closed his eyes. His lips were moving, but I couldn’t make out the words.
Paul was in pain. Distressed.