“I told you I was sick.” And then shut my phone off. “I’ve been in bed.”
“For a week?” Bently seethed.
“Yeah, must be the flu or something,” Andre lied. Guess I’m a liar too now.
“Or a bender,” Mikel said, compassion shining from his eyes.
Bently’s gaze softened just a bit. “Maybe he caught it from Mia.”
Her name grated like nails on a chalkboard. How could those three little letters spark him to life and destroy his soul all at once?
Andre pulled a mug from his cupboard and poured himself a big steaming cup of black coffee, not bothering to wait until it was cool before he took a sip.
“What do you mean I caught it from her?” He couldn’t say her name.
Bently shook his head. “You haven’t read any of our messages, have you?”
“Nope.” He sipped his coffee and took a seat.
Bently and Mikel shared a concerned look.
“What?”
“If you’d answered my calls after you left a message you’d be out of work this week, you’d have known,” Mikel explained.
“Got them, but I told you I needed a week off. You’re not going to play ‘bad business partner’ on me for skipping out for a few days after you left for five fucking years, are you?”
“Mia was admitted to the hospital a week ago.” Mikel narrowed his eyes.
What? Worry sank his stomach like a stone. “Is she okay? What happened?”
Bently sighed and crossed his arms. “She passed out in that storm we had in the middle of the road. Don’t know how long she was there before she was found. Luckily, the good citizens called me.” Bently raked a hand over his face. “She was in bad shape, man. She passed out again in my arms and I rushed her to the hospital.”
He should have been there. Was she all alone? Was her fiancé there?
Crack.
The handle of the coffee mug broke off the cup, and it tumbled and smashed on the counter. He stared at the destroyed porcelain in his hands. That was the day of our fight. She’d told him that she blacked out. Why didn’t he make sure Mia made it into her house?
Because she shattered what was left of my heart.
“Is she okay?” Andre repeated.
Bently nodded. “She got out yesterday. Wouldn’t tell me anything, but begged me not to tell you she was in the hospital. You wanna tell me why?”
Andre set the pieces from the handle on the counter and hung his head. “She lied to me. She lied to all of us. She’s been engaged this whole time.”
Bently’s expression didn’t change. Only Mikel seemed shocked.
“Tell me what happened, exactly.” Bently took a seat and leaned in on his elbows.
Andre recapped the worst day of his life within a matter of minutes. Both Mikel and Bently shook their heads.
“Just doesn’t seem like her,” Mikel said.
“Are you still taking her side? I was right about her, from the beginning, and you all wanted me to play nice. I should have gone with my gut because look where my fucking heart got me,” he snapped.
“Your heart? You love her?” Mikel asked, his brows creased.
Andre sighed. “Fool me twice. She’s worse than Tiffany.”
“You didn’t give her a chance to explain? There’s no way she could have duped all of us. There’s something fishy about this,” Bently said, scratching his beard.
“Nothing hidden here, detective. The guy she’s marrying was right in front of me. The same one she’d sworn was like a brother to her. I believed her. She’s good at deceiving people. She’s a fucking witch who cast us all under her spell.”
“Her friend Mateo?” Bently asked.
“You met him?”
Bently nodded. “In the hospital. The whole family stayed for a few days before Mia sent them on their way.”
The bastard didn’t even stay with her until she was better?
Bently chuckled.
“I fail to see what’s so fucking funny here.” Andre glared at his friend.
Bently waved his hand. “Mateo Lopez. Tall guy with dark hair, Spanish accent?”
“Yes,” Andre grated.
“He’s gay. Or, at the very least, bisexual.” Bently smirked.
“What?”
“He hit on me. Then when he saw I was a no-fly zone, he got in real cozy with Doc Burton. Saw them at The Shipwreck a few times. They left together both nights,” Bently explained.
“Maybe Mateo and Mia have an open relationship?” Mikel suggested.
“Only way you can find out is to talk to Mia.” Bently picked up the broken mug and sipped Andre’s coffee.
“If I learned one thing through all the shit that went down between Remy and me, it’s that you gotta put everything out on the table. I almost lost her because I didn’t do that. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. If you love her, then hear her out. There has to be an explanation. Do you really want to live the rest of your life wondering?” Mikel asked.
Andre’s stomach churned with anxiety. It hurts too much. “People don’t change.”
Mikel winced.
Shit. “I didn’t mean it like that. You realize every one of the women I’ve seriously dated in my life has cheated on me?”
“Mia isn’t Tiffany. We all hated your ex. The only reason we were civil was because you really cared for her. We knew she was a bad egg from the beginning. But, Mia . . . she’s gotten pretty close with Remy,” Mikel said.
“And Jasmine,” Bently added.
“You know the girls have better instincts about women than we do. They love her. And your sister is devastated because Mia has been avoiding her this past week.” Mikel sighed.
His friends were right. There were more questions than answers. Nothing was adding up. I need to know. But would she give him the truth? And how could he trust her even if she did?
Mikel walked over to the couch, sighing. “What’s this?” He reached down and grasped an envelope peeking out from under the coffee table.
Andre shrugged. “Beats me.”
“It’s got your name on it.” Mikel held out the paper.
“That’s Mia’s writing.” Andre reached for it. How? Tiffany must have taken it before he shut the door in Mia’s face and then stormed to his room.
Bently stood. “Maybe the answers you seek are in there. I’m gonna leave you to it, but I’ll be checking back in on you.”
His friends said their goodbyes before they left him.
Andre took a deep breath to steady himself as he pulled the folded papers out.
Starting with the first line of the first page, he read.
Each page was harder to digest.
He learned more about Mia in these few pages than he had in the months he’d spent sleeping with her. This was the real Mia. It was no wonder she kept to herself. All the trauma. All the times he’d triggered her by mentioning her parents, or the bad juju that followed her around.
Guilt and hurt swirled inside him as he staggered back to his seat. Humbled, his eyes fell onto the last page.
33
Andre
I’ve lived in fear all my life. It’s taken residence in my body, like a shadow following me around. Every decision, every risk I take is weighed based on fear. I realize now that I had pushed you to let go of your resentment and accused you of letting your past hold you back when I have been doing the same. Living life as an undocumented person, losing everyone I ever loved or depended on nearly broke me. I never wanted to risk getting close to anyone else in my life. And then you came along.
I am terrified to be sent back to Mexico to be tortured and murdered like my mother. They fulfilled their threats sent to us each year with her. They sent me pictures. I imagine her last breaths were filled with gasoline and smoke, and the scent of the burning tire around her beaten body. The sad part is, that was the least of the fucked-up things they did to her. I know because they also sent me a letter, and yes, I read it. I forced myself to see wha
t my truth when I was a child did to my parents. I blamed myself for so long. But not anymore. I did not do those things—the cartel did. I can see that now. I will begin the process towards forgiving myself.
I hold DACA status. With the new administration, that status is at risk. I had thought the best thing for me, with limited legal pathways to safety, was through marriage to a citizen. I never lied to you when I told you Mateo and I were like brother and sister. He is my brother, blood or not. I have never, nor will I ever be romantically involved with him. The marriage contract would have been just that—a contract. Mamá Lucia had always hoped we would end up together, but it was never more than a mother’s wish. Mateo is not interested in women, and she’s still holding on to the dream that he will be someday.
I understand how much I have wronged you. I accept that we can never be. But you should know that I do, and always will, love you, Andre Stone. Beyond that, I trust you with my truth. I’ve never given that to anyone. The things I’ve written in these pages could have me deported. But I won’t live in fear anymore. I’ll face whatever I need to.
My mother told me once that my life was like a piece of sea glass. I’d always taken that to mean it was treacherous, sharp, and unforgiving. But now I see she meant the beauty of it. The unknowing and risk is all a part of our journey—colors and hues sparkling in the panes, reflecting so much beauty if we’re willing to see it. Everything we go through refines us, shapes us into who we are.
You helped me realize that. You helped me grow.
Now, I hope you can forgive me, but if not, I’ll respect your wishes and leave you alone.
I just needed to let you know the faults made in this relationship were mine.
Don’t let my mistakes stop you from finding your happiness.
Yours,
Mia
A weight settled on Andre’s shoulders as he read the last of Mia’s words. He’d known she had secrets, wondered why she didn’t want to report those situations to the police or go to the hospital. If he had seen his parents murdered like that . . . fuck.
He’d been blinded by his past hurts, shutting Mia out before she could explain to protect himself. What have I done? Because of him, Mia was put in physical danger and had ended up in the hospital. And she had literally risked everything to tell him all of this.
He didn’t care that she was undocumented. Why had the system failed her and most likely hundreds of thousands of others? She’d obeyed the laws, her mother had, and look where that had got them.
Andre ran upstairs and got dressed. I need to make this right. He brushed his teeth and popped a couple of pain relievers before rushing to get his boots and coat on.
Sprinting across the yard, he sucked in a breath at the sight of the yellow For Sale sign in the front. The thudding in his chest pounded faster as he ran up to her door and banged on it. Her car wasn’t there, but maybe . . . He peered in the window. The air was sucked from his lungs. No sign of her. He ran a hand over his hair. My phone. He sprinted back to the house. He needed to fix this before Mia disappeared for good.
34
Mia
Wiping the sheen of sweat off her brow, Mia walked out of the Hope Facility. The crisp air felt good in her lungs as she headed to her car. After a week in the hospital, she’d been nearly crawling out of her skin. She’d needed to stretch her body. It gave her something to do instead of staying in the lonely hotel room she’d rented to avoid having to see Andre next door. But the gaping hole left in her chest from losing him had pushed her to reach out for a lifeline. The moment he’d mentioned this place, her soul had been tugged in this direction. Children with pasts she could relate to, with a need for an outlet. Yoga had helped her, so why not them?
Aaron had been delighted and gathered the kids together not thirty minutes after she’d introduced herself. Too bad it’s only temporary. She couldn’t stay here—but Shattered Cove had become her home. Her business was here. She’d made friends. Mia winced and reached for her phone. A slew of unanswered and unread text messages sat in her inbox. I doubt they’ll still want to be my friend. Not after they learn the truth.
She wouldn’t put them in the middle of her and Andre. He’d obviously wanted nothing else to do with her. She understood his reasons, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Anger boiled at the visual of his ex in his house. Why would he take her back like that? Maybe he still harbored feelings for her and Mia had been blind this whole time.
She sighed and slipped into her car. Not ready to go back to her lonely hotel room.
Remy and Jasmine deserved the truth, even if their friendship was doomed.
She clicked open her messages.
Mikel: Renovations are complete. Let me know when you want to do the final walk-through.
He’d been the only one she’d remained in contact with, and just because he stayed professional—his content was strictly about her studio.
Mia: I can meet you this afternoon. Does 2 p.m. work?
Her phone buzzed a moment later.
Mikel: See you then.
Mia clicked open Remy’s messages next. Remy had come to the hospital, but Mia had avoided talking too much, using her sore throat as an excuse—an exaggeration, but still true. Remy had shown up for three days in a row with homemade soup, frowning at what the hospital provided. Mia hadn’t been hungry, but she’d made an effort for her friend. Eventually Mia had to shut her out too and ask her not to come back.
Remy, being the good friend she was, had swallowed the hurt that flashed in her eyes and did as Mia asked.
Remy: Let me know if I can bring you anything. Please, Mia. I really care about you. You’re my friend no matter what is going on between you and my brother—and friends help each other.
Remy: Mia, Bently said you’ve been out of the hospital for days now. Where are you? I swung by the house, but it’s all packed up. Please don’t leave like this. Let me in.
Yes, her house was for sale. She couldn’t bear another minute being so close to the man she loved who probably hated her now. Thankfully, money made the world go around. The real estate agent who’d helped her close on her house was more than happy to help her sell. She’d hired another company to pack, move, and store her things. She only kept a few suitcases with her essentials at the hotel.
Remy: Mia? I don’t know what else to say. Dre isn’t responding . . . and you’re freezing me out. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.
Mia blinked back tears. Was there no end to the grief that leaked from her eyes? She pulled open the messages from Jasmine.
Jasmine: Remy is going crazy over here. Look, I know enough about secrets to see you have them. But you and Dre are so good for each other. Please come back. We don’t have to talk about it. We can pretend like nothing happened, but I miss you, Mia. I don’t say that to many people.
A pang of guilt shot through her chest. What have I done?
She typed a group text to her two friends: Hey, guys. I’m sorry I’ve been a ghost. I’m ready to talk if you still want to. I’m meeting Mikel at the studio at 2, so maybe we can meet up there afterwards?
The studio would be a neutral place. No chance of meeting Andre there because surely, he would be avoiding her too.
She had three missed calls from him and one voicemail. Pain stabbed her heart. She couldn’t handle listening to that right now. Maybe later with a bottle of tequila. What could he possibly have left to say to her? Nothing good, that was for sure. Mia put her phone down. She’d catch up on the rest of her messages another time.
She drove towards her new business, her happiness for the finished product clouded by a fog of regret.
At 1:45, she opened the door with her key. The smell of fresh paint still lingered. Not waiting for Mikel, she drank in the silence as she walked from room to room. Memories of Andre haunted each one. He was a part of this place, as much as she wished she could forget him.
Her chest squeezed and she hugged her arms around herself. She was alone. Again.
On her own.
Making her way into the main studio, she surveyed the large room. Mia gasped, clamping her hand over her mouth. The wall she’d wanted torn down had a giant window made from what looked like sea glass. The sun shone through it, sending a rainbow of colors swirling all over the gleaming wood floor. She stepped into the light, reaching out as the hues dappled her hand. Tears slid down her cheeks. It’s perfect. This was the embodiment of her mother front and center—her dream come true. Mamá, you’re here. Aren’t you? The colors danced across her skin, warming as her mother’s spirit surrounded Mia with love.
“I thought you’d like it, to remember your mom.”
Mia startled and spun around.
Andre walked forward, his hands in his pockets. She wiped the tears from her eyes and caught her breath. Searching his face, she saw no trace of the disgust or anger she expected from him. Andre’s expression was tired, and unreadable otherwise.
“You did this?” she managed.
He nodded and stopped a foot in front of her. “I know a guy. When you decided to go with a window, and then I overheard you and Lyra talking about how she used to collect sea glass . . . I wanted to surprise you.”
“Thank you.”
A moment of silence followed as Mia studied him for any sign as to how to proceed. His expression morphed to pity and she backed up a step, dropping his gaze. That’s what this was. He just feels bad for the poor little girl who lost her parents.
“Mia?”
She winced, her name so tender from his lips, like he still loved her. “Are you here to do the walk-through? I thought Mikel—”
“No.” He stepped closer.
“I’m sorry, Andre. I . . .”
“I’m sorry too.”
Her eyes snapped to his. “What do you have to apologize for? I deserved your reaction.”
He shook his head and reached out his hands to cup her face. She closed her eyes, fighting off a wave of fresh tears. Energy hummed between them, sparking to life with the touch of his hands. He was so gentle with her, as if she was the one made of glass.
Vote Then Read: Volume I Page 19
