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Dear Neighbor

Page 18

by River Laurent


  “Oh, that was before I knew he was going out with you, obviously,” Alexander blurted out, suddenly realizing what he has said.

  I took pains to look casual, I even managed to smile sweetly at everyone on the table. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing you said. I’m just not feeling very well. I think I’ll go upstairs and lie down for a bit. Enjoy your dinner.”

  I could see Millicent wanted to ask me what was wrong, but I walked out of the room before her question could be asked.

  I heard Max mumbling something about checking on me, so I knew he was following. As soon as I was away from the dining room, I dashed to the stairs and ran all the way up. By the time Max reached the bedroom, I was already packing.

  “Hang on. Let me explain,” he whispered urgently.

  “Don’t say a word, Max. If you don’t want me to cause a scene and embarrass us both, you’ll go back downstairs to dinner and forget you ever knew me.”

  “What are you doing? Are you leaving?” He stood beside the dresser as I grabbed blindly at my things, shoving them into the suitcase. “Please, Mimi. Listen to me. You have to give me a chance.”

  “I don’t have to give you shit,” I whispered.

  “Just listen to me.”

  “Are you the developer?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he confessed.

  I shook my head. “How could you? How could you!”

  He reached out a hand to grab my hand and I recoiled as if he was a striking snake. “I swear, I’m going to scream this house down if you don’t leave me alone, Max. You need to get out of this room. Now.”

  “How will you get out of here?” he asked.

  “I’ll get an Uber. No big deal.”

  “Uber? All the way back to the city?”

  “What the hell do you care?” I turned away, pushing my clothes and toiletries down so I could close the zipper. “Don’t start pretending to care about me now, Max. It’s pretty low.”

  “I do care. You know I care.” I heard the urgency in his voice, the desperation even. And part of me wanted to give in and give him a chance to explain himself, but what could he say to make things better. He was the developer and he had taken Alexander’s advice and seduced me. The only problem was, I was not going anywhere. He was going to have to build his precious apartments around me. I thought he was one of the good guys. I let myself fall in love with him.

  I wished I were dead.

  I wished he were dead.

  I looked up from my bag to find him pale-faced, worry lines creased his forehead. For once, he didn’t look sophisticated. All it took was a slip of somebody else’s tongue to turn him from a god into a despicable human being.

  “I don’t know anything about you,” I spat. “And you kept it that way. Never talking about work, about where your money comes from, or what you do with it. Oh, unless you were trying to impress me with your limo and your concert tickets and your fucking friends in the fucking Hamptons. Now I understand why.”

  “Mimi, please…”

  “Oh, you don’t want them to hear me?” I sneered. “Don’t worry about it. Nobody needs to know that the great Max Black would stoop low enough to seduce a woman just to get her apartment. Ugh. Sickening”

  “Oh, my God. That’s what you think? Mimi, that’s crazy.” He took a step toward me.

  “Don’t come any closer,” I warned. “I mean it. Don’t even think about touching me, either. It’s over. Whatever this is, whatever we had, it’s done. And for the record, you’ll never get that apartment from me, so bad luck. I hope I never lay eyes on you again. I thought Josh was bad, but he’s got nothing on you.” I raised one arm, pointing to the door. “Now get out before I start screaming. I mean it. Everybody’s going to know what you did if you don’t leave right now.”

  He raised both his hands and backed away, looking stricken. “All right. What do you want me to tell everybody?” he asked.

  “Don’t you get it? I don’t give a fuck what you say to them. They’re not my friends. Tell them I’m sick. Tell them I found out I hate you. Whatever. You decide. You’re good at making things up.”

  I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and opened the Uber app to request a car. When I looked up again, he was gone.

  I collapsed onto the bed, shaking from head to toe, but I couldn’t cry. Not yet. Not until I was far away. I couldn’t run the risk of him seeing me fall apart.

  In a daze, I looked up at the steel-gray sky with its fast-moving clouds. We would get early snow out of those clouds. It smelled like snow, the air holding that certain special scent it only got before a storm.

  The first available cab would be in an hour’s time. I was already waiting outside for it. It was a hell of a tab, but it was a small price for getting out of there as quickly as possible.

  Max had tried to wait with me. Maybe he wanted to talk or explain and make new excuses, but I turned on him with such venom, he raised both his hands in a gesture of appeasement and went back inside.

  When the car pulled up to the house, I went down the steps, pulling my suitcase behind me, my laptop and purse over one shoulder. I felt bruised, beaten, ready to give up. There had been only one place I could imagine going just then. Ever since Grandma died and Mom and I drifted apart, but I had always felt sad about it. Right now. I needed her.

  “Wow, nice place?” the driver said.

  “Yeah,” I said quietly and stared out of the window. He probably thought I was a snob. He didn’t know my heart was broken. Half-way through the journey, I started sobbing my heart out. The poor driver must have thought I was insane.

  55

  Mimi

  Mom was waiting at the door for me. She held it open as I maneuvered myself and my bags inside. I hadn’t told her why I was coming, only that I was on my way and needed her very badly. She took one look at my swollen, tear-stained face and opened her arms for me to step into her embrace.

  “What happened, baby? Who hurt you?”

  “Oh, Mom. I can’t believe it. I’m such an idiot.”

  “I’m sure it’s not your fault,” she murmured, stroking my hair as I shook with fresh sobs.

  “I’ve been so stupid.”

  “Come on. I’ll fix us some tea and we’ll talk it out. I’m sure it’ll be all right. Everything looks better after a pot of tea.”

  One of my grandmother’s favorite sayings passed down to my Mom and then to me. The thought of her, of that apartment I loved so much, only made me feel worse. My chest hurt, literal physical pain. I wondered if I was having a heart attack. Maybe that was what happened when a person’s heart broke. They had a heart attack and died and didn’t have to hurt anymore.

  I finished crying in the time it took the water to boil and splashed my face as the tea steeped. Mom waited until I was seated in one of the little wooden chairs around her small kitchen table before asking any questions.

  “What happened, sweetie?”

  I poured the whole thing out. Josh, Max, the way he’d saved me when I was cornered. The way we pretended to be a couple. She smiled when I told her about hurting my ankle, and the way he’d been so sweet to me. I even hinted at things moving to the next level with Max without getting graphic. We were friends and all, me and my mom, but we weren’t that close.

  And then I told her about what Alexander said at dinner. She knew about the buyer who tried to get me to move out, of course, and she covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh, no. Oh, that’s horrible!” She looked genuinely heartbroken, just like any mother would when their child was in pain.

  “So, that’s what happened. I came here instead of going all the way home. I couldn’t imagine being there alone right now.”

  “Of course, honey. I’m so glad you came. I’m so sorry this happened.” She patted my hand, wiping away her own tears with the other.

  “Is it me? Am I a magnet for these jerks who think they can use women and get away with it?”

  She shook her head. “Of course, you’re not. You’re just having
a run of bad luck.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” I whispered. The tea did help a little, at least. Chamomile. Just the scent relaxed me, and the memory of nights spent drinking tea together tugged at my bruised heart.

  “I thought I was in love with him, Mom. I’m so ashamed of myself.”

  She clucked her tongue in sympathy. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. You can’t blame yourself for developing feelings for him. He sounds like the total package when you don't include the apartment issue."

  “That was what I thought, too. I thought he had it all. And he wanted me, which obviously made him even more attractive.”

  We both snorted into our teacups, which ended in a sob for me.

  “Let me pass on a little bit of wisdom I’ve picked up,” she said, her voice as soft and gentle as ever.

  “Please, do. I’m in dire need.”

  “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Love isn’t something that’s supposed to make us feel ashamed.”

  “But I let myself fall for him, Mom. It’s embarrassing.”

  “I know it is right now, but you still have nothing to be ashamed of. Just because it didn’t work out doesn’t mean your feelings weren’t real. I mean, look at your father and me.” She grinned ruefully, shaking her head. “Ahh, I know it’s hard for you to believe this, but there was a time when we were crazy about each other. When we didn’t fight constantly. We were really, truly in love. And just because it ended the way it did, doesn’t erase those feelings. That would be a terrible shame, wouldn’t it?”

  “It would.”

  “You might wish you never felt that way,” she said, nodding. “I used to. I used to wish I never met him. But then I wouldn’t have you. And I wouldn’t have the memory of when times were good. I can’t pretend I would erase the memory if I had the chance. Just like I’m sure you wouldn’t erase the memory of Max if you had a chance to do it.”

  I wanted to disagree with her, but it was no use. She was always right, as I’d come to understand the older I got. Wouldn’t thirteen-year-old me be disappointed? “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

  “You know you can stay as long as you need, right?”

  “Can I just stay forever?”

  She shook her head. “Afraid not. You can’t hide from life forever.”

  “Ugh. You sound so much like a mom right now.”

  “It’s an occupational hazard.”

  “Mom, something has always bothered me.”

  “What”

  “Why do you think Grandma left the apartment to me and not you?”

  She shrugged. “You sure you want to know?”

  I frowned. What new surprises would I have to deal with today? “Of course.”

  “Your grandma had a gift. She never spoke about it, but when we were kids she used to sometimes use it.”

  “What gift?” I whispered.

  “She knew things. She would say, Oh, Uncle Ermine must be sick and then we would get news that Uncle Ermine was indeed sick. Sometimes she’d say, oh, I think Fleur might come to visit today and sure enough Fleur would come. Mind you these were the days before the internet. Three days before her father passed away she knew and she began picking wild flowers for his funeral. She was only five years old then.”

  “Wow. Really?” I breathed.

  Mom nodded. “The reason she wanted you to have the apartment was that she said the most important thing that would ever happen to you would happen when you were living there. She almost wrote it into her will that you couldn’t sell it during your lifetime.”

  I stared at mom in astonishment.

  Mom patted my hand gently. “She didn’t want me to tell you because she didn’t want you to change your behavior in any way, but she was very old at that time and I don’t know if her gift was still strong. She could have been wrong.”

  I looked at my mother bitterly. “I guess she was wrong. The apartment has brought me my greatest hurt and betrayal. I don’t know if I can ever trust another man again, Mom.”

  “Oh, darling. If you want to sell that apartment and move on you can. I know, if she could see you now, she wouldn’t expect you to live there. She just wanted what was best for you.”

  There was nothing like being home with Mom when my heart hurt. Running home to be with Mommy should be a requirement for all people trying to act like grownups. Sometimes, being a grown up hurt too much. When I went up to my old room I almost wished my Barbie Dream House were still there so I could really regress.

  She even made me instant mac and cheese for lunch on Sunday because she knew me that well and was pretty much the best mother on the planet. We watched old movies like we used to when I was a kid and things at home were good. I couldn’t help remembering when I teased Max about watching them. It would be a while before every little thing didn’t remind me of him.

  I told myself to stop watching the clock since all that did was remind me that every passing minute put me one minute closer to needing to go home. The thought of running into Max nauseated me. I didn't know what he'd want from me, and I sure didn't know how I'd keep living there with the knowledge that he was on the other side of the floor. I couldn't exactly get away with egging his door or leaving burning dog poop in the hall. He'd sort of know it was me. And I'd have to smell the burning poop, too, so that was another mark in the negative column.

  He didn’t even try to call. That was the worst part. He knew my number. He’d texted me in the past. He didn’t try to text after I left. Was he really that willing to let go of me? Even Josh had tried to reach out, for God’s sake.

  The light outside dimmed, and I looked out the window to see clouds rolling in. It was only fitting, considering my mood. I could go for a good storm just then.

  “I’m going to get dinner started,” Mom announced.

  “What’s for dinner?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Spaghetti and meatballs?”

  She nodded with a smile. “I know my girl.”

  “I’m going to ask again. Can I just stay here forever?”

  “And again I have to say no,” she replied. “This is special occasion-level stuff. Any other night and we’d have sandwiches and soup.”

  “Blargh.” I stuck my tongue out at her. She was still chuckling as she walked into the kitchen from the neat, cheerful little living room. I’d lived there with her after the divorce, which made it tough to spend time in the city. I loved going to my grandmother’s home when my parent were fighting, but Mom’s house would always mean love to me. Hence my running there when somebody hurt me.

  The difference between it and the Fields Estate was staggering, but I’d rather be in a little two-bedroom on Long Island. Especially when nobody there had lied to me.

  I thought I might have heard the cushions sigh in relief as my butt left the couch for the first time all day to return to my apartment.

  56

  Mimi

  I was sitting on my couch pouring my shattered heart out to Megan when the doorbell rang.

  “You expecting anybody?” Megan asked as I got off the couch.

  “No,” I said. I lived in an apartment building. There was no such thing as random people at the door. I put my eye to the spy hole in the door and flew backward in shock.

  “Who is it? It is him?” Megan asked.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “You have knives in the kitchen, right?”

  “That’s very helpful, Megan.”

  The bell went again and I jumped.

  “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

  I debated on opening the door, honestly. Should I? Or should I leave him swinging in the wind? And why was he there?

  “Yeah, I’ll call you back,” I said and flung the door open before I could talk myself out of it. And there he was, standing there looking absolutely gorgeous.

  “What do you want?” I barked as I folded my arms, and glared at him. Really, I was only trying to protect myself. I closed myself off phys
ically to remind myself to close off emotionally. I couldn’t let him in, even though my heart wanted to reach out to him. He looked so damn handsome. How was that even remotely fair? Meanwhile, I was wearing the same leggings and sweatshirt I’d slept in and my hair hadn’t been brushed all day, just thrown up in a bun.

  I saw red. I mean I didn’t even think I just reacted. It was like a wall of fury just slammed into my brain. My hand shot out and I slapped him so hard my hand hurt. For a second he went absolutely still then he moved.

  So fast, I didn’t have time to move.

  He picked me up, threw me unceremoniously over his shoulder, and carried me to my bedroom kicking, screaming, and punching his back with my clenched fists. I might as well not have bothered for all the attention he paid me. He kicked open my bedroom door and it slammed hard against the wall. He threw me on the bed and looked down at me.

  I looked up at him breathing hard, hating him. “Get out of my apartment, you shitty bastard,” I yelled.

  Suddenly he fell on me pinning me down. I opened my mouth to scream and he silenced me with the palm of his hand. I tried to bite his palm but could find no purchase.

  He stared into my eyes.

  I struggled hard until there was no energy left in any of my limbs and I went slack. Tears of frustration welled up in my eyes and streamed down the sides of my face. He raised his palm and I opened my mouth to scream again.

  This time he covered my mouth with his own.

  It was a kiss like nothing he had ever given me before. It was full of aggression, and anger, and passion. The more I tried to stay unaffected the harder he kissed me. He forced his tongue past my lips and swept it into my mouth looking for mine. He hooked my tongue, took into his own mouth and sucked it hard. Eventually, I became lost in his kiss and my hands curled around his neck.

  He lifted his head. “I didn’t mean to lie to you.”

  “You still did.”

  He caught my hands and pinned them over my head.

  “Let go of me, you monster,” I said struggling against the band of steel around my wrists.

 

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