"I've had enough," Gwen says. "Mia, you are out of here." She turns on her three-inch heels and leaves the room.
Arrow opens his mouth and goes to follow her, but I reach out and squeeze his wrist before he can say anything else. "Just let it go."
His jaw works, but I know he won't say any more because I've asked him not to.
I don't have that much here. I don't have much in general. I've never been the kind of person who was big on things, with a few exceptions.
I gather my belongings, fold my clothes, pack my suitcase, and slide my textbooks into my backpack. The last thing I get is my dancing fairies painting from the bottom drawer of the desk. I still remember the night he gave it to me. I was so touched by his thoughtfulness, and something else, too. My skin prickled, and it felt like all those little fairies were dancing up and down my arms, connecting me to Arrow with thousands of invisible currents. It wasn't just that he remembered my story; it was that he understood how important it was to me.
"You still have that?" Arrow asks.
I skim my fingers over the painting's textured surface, and those same chills come back. Will I ever meet anyone I feel as deeply tied to as him? "Of course. It makes me think about my mom. About the good times." I lift my eyes to his and see all the questions there. I don't know where we are. I don't know how I'm supposed to go forward-how I'm supposed to live or breathe knowing that the man I love killed my brother and the man I . . . loved. "It makes me think of you, Arrow. It was the sweetest gift I've ever been given."
"I don't want you to go," he says softly. His eyes are so sad, and I draw in a sharp breath because I've somehow forgotten. Living here, working here, I got to see Arrow all the time. It was so easy to forget that he was on house arrest. But if I don't have an excuse to be here, when will I see him? Nights sleeping in his arms will be a thing of the past. Talking to him in the darkness an old luxury.
I force a smile. "It's for the best. I'll be okay."
"Mia-"
"I'll be okay. Bailey will take me back, at least temporarily, and I'll find another job. It's not like I'll be living on the streets." Avoiding his gaze, I zip up my suitcase and do one last look around the bedroom to make sure I haven't forgotten anything. I feel Arrow's gaze on me with every move I make. "I think that's everything."
"I'll help you load up your car."
I lift the suitcase into the trunk and close it. Mia's hands are tucked into the pockets of her jean shorts and her eyes are cast down to the ground. Yesterday's rain is gone, and the sun brings out the light brown highlights in her hair.
"You can do better than this job, Mia." I can tell from the look on her face that her employment status is the least of her problems. That today, any worries of whether or not she'll be able to transfer to BHU are buried beneath bigger worries.
I understand what that's like. When something that once mattered seems inconsequential in the face of the nightmare you've woken to.
"I'll make sure Dad gives you good references," I say. It's so lame. If I could, I'd weave together a big, bright future for her and hand it over wrapped in a bow. She's been stuck in the quicksand of my mistake for too long. "There are a couple of board members who might be interested in a good nanny."
"Arrow," she says softly, and I want to pull her into my arms so badly it hurts.
"I won't tell anyone your secret," she says.
I suck in a breath and hold it to trap my rage. It's not her job to free me from this burden, but I hoped she would. But mostly I want to rage because I know now she carries it too, and I don't want that for her. "Don't do that for me. Don't hold it for me."
She tilts her face toward the sun. "I'm not doing it for you."
I shake my head. "I'd forgive you anything. I'd understand if you felt like you needed to-"
"Arrow, it's done. I know you'd have gone forward and done the right thing if Coach hadn't cornered you into keeping the secret. And I'm sorry for the ugly things I said yesterday. You didn't deserve that. You've suffered enough. I forgive you," she whispers, and those words hurt more than I'm prepared for.
I look away, shocked by the dull force of it. "Don't do that. I don't deserve that."
She puts her hands on my face, her palms along my jaw, her fingertips in my hair, and turns me to look at her. "I forgive you, and I hope you'll do whatever it is you need to do to forgive yourself. Do it for Brogan."
"Fuck, Mia . . ."
The sun shines in her eyes. In a different life, maybe we'd be enjoying this beautiful day together-holding hands and sitting on the dock and watching the light reflect off the water. Then I'd pull her into me and kiss her, smell the sunshine in her hair as she whispered my name against my neck.
That's not the fate we were given, and as she looks up at me, I realize I've had that image of us together from the day we met. I've never been willing to let it go. Not when me being a Woodison stood between us; not when Brogan stood between us. Not even when I sat in the hospital, willing my memory of New Year's Eve to come back, or when Brogan was in surgery fighting for his life.
How different would our lives be today if I'd been able to let it go? If I hadn't shown up at her door and told her I was in love with her? Would Brogan still be alive?
Part of my mind has always believed Mia was mine and has held on to the hope that we could make it work. Someday. Somehow. All of this could have been avoided if I hadn't so stubbornly held on to that belief.
"That day that we met," I say. "I think about it a lot. About how we seemed to click, but then you wanted nothing to do with me."
"It seemed like such a big deal then." She gives a sad smile. "I thought it was a terrible day to have met this sweet, amazing guy and find out he was a Woodison." She exhales slowly and wraps her arms around her waist. "What I wouldn't give to go back there and have that be the biggest problem in my life."
I turn away because I can't look at her and say what I need to say. "If I could go back, I never would have taken that first walk with you."
She laughs a little uncomfortably. "What happened to wishing you'd kissed me?"
I stare at the ground and shake my head. "If I'd let you go, if I'd let you be with him without the questions of whether or not he made you happy, without being the one to catch you when he hurt you, without showing up at your door to tell you I was in love with you . . . everything would be different. Everything." I lift my head and force myself to meet her eyes. "You kept trying to tell me we couldn't be together, and I didn't want to see it."
"What are you doing?" Her voice wobbles on the question like a novice on a tightrope.
"You could never be with him completely because I stood in the way. And you've never been able to move on since because of me." I shove my hands into my pockets so I don't grab her and hold her tight. "I'm letting you go. I'm telling you I don't want you to carry my regret and my mistakes around in your heart. I need you to figure out how to live your life without me in it."
"Don't do this, Arrow."
"I thought it was my job to help you lead your life, to help you wake up. But it was another excuse to be selfish. Another way I could avoid letting you go."
"You're my friend," she says, a little desperately. "There's no reason we can't always be friends."
"Except there is. You'll always look at me and remember what I've done. We'll never be together without the past wedged between us. You deserve better than that." I take a step forward, toward her upturned face, closer to her parted lips. I don't know how to shut off the magnetic pull between us, but I make myself stop and take two steps back, two steps away from temptation. "You have too much beauty to hide from the world. I can't stand here and tell you that I hope you fall in love with Sebastian, and that I hope he's the one who can make you happy. I'm not that good of a guy to say those things. But if I don't think about the specifics and I step back a little, all I want is for you to be happy. All I want is for someone to fill in the empty places in your heart the way you did mine from the beginning."
"Arrow?" She drags in a choppy breath, and I look up to see tears welling in her eyes. "You're breaking up with me when all I want is to be your friend."