So we have no idea where she is. My baby, and I don’t even know where she is.
“I know this isn’t the news you wanted to hear, but… you know they were not legally obligated to continue contact. As difficult as it is, I suggest you try to move past this,” he said, his voice kind, fatherly. “You can petition for another adoption. The agency has already agreed to a legal obligation to find you another available child.”
No. She tried to swallow. Just no.
Then, calling herself all kinds of coward, she turned the car around. She didn’t really need to change clothes and didn’t want to go home. Sitting in a dark theatre alone was preferable.
It worked, for a while. The action and covert-ops scenarios of the movies helped to take her mind off her own life, but afterward, she still wasn’t ready to go home. She drove around the quiet streets for a half hour before stopping.
It took Mia only a minute to get from her car to Nick’s door. It took a great deal longer than that to make herself knock. Nick’s house. One she’d never been to. Where he lived and ate and slept.
“God, what am I doing?” Her hands were shaking so badly, she twisted them over each other. It was late, really late, but the lights were on inside.
Her pulse jumped with a growing apprehension as she stepped up to knock. What if there was a woman there? What if he didn’t eat and sleep alone? She didn’t see any extra cars, but he could easily have brought someone home. That was just like him, driving a woman rather than having them drive alone.
Battering nerves sent a wave of sickness crawling through her. She raised her hand then lowered it. She couldn’t do this.
* * *
NICK TOOK A BEER out of the fridge, held it long enough for drops of moisture to gather, then put it back. He didn’t need a drink. Well, he did. His sister was out of town with McKinney; that alone was enough to make him edgier than usual.
With his elbows on the counter, he held his head in his hands and closed his eyes. Hannah’s words echoed in his head.
How can I forget when you always remind me?
Had he done that? Reminded his sister of the past by trying to protect her? Had he been wrong all these years? The self-defense, the gun, the constant cautionary reminders?
And then Mia. God, he tried hard not to think about her. He’d gotten good enough at it over the years that he could pretend there was no ache when he thought about her.
He heard Hannah telling him she needed room and Mia telling him it wasn’t the same. He thought of Luke. He’d screwed up so many times and in so many different ways, he didn’t know anything anymore.
He decided on coffee and was reaching into the cabinet for a mug when a knock at the door stopped him. It was almost midnight, and his mind raced through scenarios like a grim news feed.
It was Hannah, and she’d come home early because something had happened.
It wasn’t Hannah. Because something had happened and she couldn’t come home.
Nick swung open the door to find neither. Mia. Her dark hair brushed the shoulders of a white sleeveless blouse. Black jeans hugged her legs and tapered narrowly at the bottom. Her lips were full and pink, her eyes dark and clear.
He stared until she shivered. “Sorry. Come in.” He stepped back into the space, gesturing for her to follow. “I was just starting coffee.”
She walked past, and the same scent from years ago wrapped around him.
“Still drinking coffee at midnight?” She smiled. “No. Thanks.”
Mia stopped beside the couch, her hands nervously working the clasp on her purse, twisting it open then snapping it closed. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late.” Her lips were pressed together, and she held herself so tightly he thought she might break apart.
“I’m up. Working.”
“Right. I’m interrupting.”
“Not so much. Why are you up? And out?” The question as to why she was here, exactly, went unsaid.
“I went to a movie. Two, actually. I made it a double-feature night. I do that sometimes.”
“Alone?”
“Yes. It’s nice, and there’s no talking anyway, so it really makes more sense to go alone.”
He studied her face, her hands twisting one over the other. She’d always loved going to the movies with him, holding hands, sharing popcorn, rehashing it in the car afterward. “You always said it was the perfect date, dinner and a movie.”
“Did I? Oh.” Her gaze fell away into more silence before she spoke again. “Have you heard from Hannah?”
“Yes.”
“That’s good. I was going to tell you I’d heard from her. In case you were worried.”
“Thanks.” She was offering an olive branch, and he was more than willing to take it.