Trouble(103)

Fuck that was some good pie.

Beth grabs the case, reading over the back. “It said there wasn’t. Just, and I quote, ‘plenty of high action ass-kicking’.

“Well the only ass-kicking going on right now is from her stilettos, digging in his ass while he screws her.”

“I guess maybe sex isn’t classed as romance nowadays.” Beth tosses the case to the floor and tilts her head at an angle, watching the two getting it on, on screen. “Seriously, I’ll never understand a woman who likes cock.”

I let out a laugh. “That’s because you’ve never had it.”

She look across at me grinning. “And I intend on keeping it that way, thank you very much.”

“I wasn’t offering.”

She jabs me in the arm.

“You hit like a girl.”

“I am a girl.” She folds her arms.

I look back to the TV. They’ve finally finished going at it, but now we’re into the post coital bliss where they’re cuddled up in bed.

Fucking excellent. Just what I want to see. A happy couple together.

I grit my teeth, thinking of Mia in my arms. How soft and warm her body felt against mine.

I miss her.

Jesus.

I close my eyes on the ache in my chest.

“This movie sucks,” I grind out.

“The movie does suck, you’re right, but it’s not the movie that’s bothering you.”

I let out a resigned breath. “I miss her.” I open my eyes and turn my head to look at Beth. “Is it fucked up that I miss her this much after knowing her for such a short time?”

“No. Who’s to determine what’s wrong or right. You feel what you feel. Time is irrelevant in my opinion. And I’m always right, before you have a comeback.”

I can’t muster the energy to find a comeback. And honestly, I think she’s right. Though I’d never tell her that.

I glance back at the TV, drumming my fingers on my thigh.

“Dad thinks I should write Mia a letter,” I say quietly.

Beth sits up, putting herself in my eye line, blocking my view of the TV. “I think that’s a really good idea.”

“And he also said I should send her a mixed CD.”

A grins slides across her face. “Okay, so maybe leave the mixed CD out of it. What would you say in the letter?”

Sliding down the bed so I’m flat on my back, I rest my arm over my eyes. “I don’t know…” I shrug. “I guess I’d tell her that I miss her. That it’s getting harder and harder to breathe without her. For every day she’s gone … every day that I don’t get to see her face or hear her voice, takes me a step closer to insanity.” I hear the break in my voice, and it stops me talking.

I swallow past the pain.

Beth lies down beside me and rests her head on my shoulder.

“I think you should write her a letter saying exactly that.” She sniffles.

“Are you crying?”

“Of course I’m fucking crying! I’m a girl, aren’t I?”

Trust Beth to find the way to make me smile through the pain.



***



Day seven: post-Mia…



I seal the envelope. The envelope that contains the letter that’s taken me four fucking days to write. If you saw the letter, you’d be confused as to why it took me four days to write.

Basically, the letter is shit. Because I can’t write for shit.

And that’s the reason for the CD inside this envelope.

Yeah, I’ve become that guy.

The kind of guy that makes a CD with one song on it to tell the girl he loves how he feels.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that I lost my balls ages ago. I figured it out when I couldn’t get out of bed for three days over Mia leaving me.

So now me and my ball-less self is hoping that this song will tell her everything I’m failing to. Worst case, she’ll think I’m lame and laugh her ass off, and I’ll never hear from her again. But one thing I know for sure; whenever she hears this song, she’ll always think of me, because there are a handful of songs that I can’t listen to now without thinking of her. The first time I heard her singing in my car to that Taylor Swift song that I hate, but now listen to all the time … and the Will.i.am song that was playing the first time I kissed her.

Dad was right when he said music evokes memories.

This song might not evoke her memory, but it will tell her where I’m at right now, and hopefully bring her back to me. And that hope is all I’ve got left now.

I take a deep breath and drop the envelope in the mailbox.





Chapter Twenty-Six





Mia





Two and a half months later…



“You still haven’t opened that?”

I glance over my shoulder to see Danni standing in the doorway. Danni is a patient at the clinic, like me. Except Danni suffers with anorexia. It’s her second time back in. Not here. She was at a different help facility a few years ago, got better. But she relapsed recently. We met here on my first day. She’s a great friend to have as she understands everything I go through.