Cautious (Sequel to Disastrous) (19 page)

“Yes,” she said in a whisper. “But, you have to believe me. I
wanted to say something, but I just couldn’t.”

I was angry with her, but it wasn’t for keeping the secret at the
time it was told, it was for something way worse. “You want to know why I’m
upset right now, Mia?” I kept my tone low, trying my best not to flip my lid.

She nodded. “Because I didn’t tell you.”

“No, I can understand why you kept that to yourself. You’re
right, it’s not your secret to tell, but the past fuckin’ three days, you
waltzed around here,” I swung my arm indicating where we were, “as though none
of it had occurred. What happened to being honest with each another, huh?” I
shook my head as I threw on my jeans and tossed on a shirt. “You knew that it
was out of the bag—that I finally knew about it and that was why I’ve been
upset—yet you pretended as if nothing was wrong. Why? Why now? Why did you
choose to tell me this very second?”

“I-I don’t know—maybe to finally be honest with you. I also
couldn’t keep it hidden any longer. I was hoping that you would finally confide
in me, tell what was wrong with you, but you wouldn’t.” She stood from the bed,
her voice a bit higher. “You want to throw
honesty
out there, Marcus?
Tell me. Why weren’t you honest with me? I thought our relationship was at a
point where you would be able to tell me anything that was on your mind. I
didn’t want to push the issue, force you into it, hoping that just for once,
you’d spill your thoughts and feelings to me.”

Anger surged through me. I couldn’t believe what she’d said. I
may not be fucking perfect and tell her everything, but I was trying. I was
fucking trying. With a raised voice, I blurted, “Is that what it was to you? A
fuckin’ test to see if I would spill my feelings? You don’t think I spill my
feelings to you, Mia? Do you think it was easy for me to talk to you about my
dad? Lou? How Jimmie found our father dead? That was
me
spilling my
fuckin’ guts to
you
.” Frustrated, I raised my arms in the air. “It may
not be every damn day or every time something occurs, but I do. Other than
Jimmie, you’re the only person that has come close to knowing what goes on in
my fuckin’ head.” I finished with a hard stare, my breathing heavy as she
stared back at me.

Tears filled her eyes, and I couldn’t look at her any more. I
tore my gaze away and pressed my hands at my hips. With my head bowed, I looked
down at the floor, my heart pounding against my chest. “You’re right. You did.
Sometimes you’re so distant when you have a lot on your mind. I know you go
through a lot, Marcus. I can’t help it that I want to take away all of your
stress and worries and make them mine, to somehow ease your burden.” She
sniffed a few times. At that statement, I shut my eyes and shook my head. I
knew that she worried for me, but I didn’t realize how many of my burdens had
stressed her as well.

“Mia, I’m . . .”

Before I could finish, the sound of my phone ringing had cut in.
I looked up at her wet eyes and had an urge to reach out and grab her, to
comfort her, but I looked away and headed toward my phone. “Hello.” I answered
on the fourth ring, forgetting to check who it was.

“Uncle Marcus, guess what I did today?” Elle’s enthusiastic tone
chirped through the phone. Even after the entire mess Mia and I had just gone
through, I was able to smile at the sound of my niece’s voice.

“You got me. What did you do?” I asked as I walked passed Mia. I
stopped in front of her and covered the speaker of my cell with my hand. “I’m
going in the hallway to talk with Elle. I’ll be back soon.” I tilted my head,
hoping that she would make eye contact with me, but she didn’t. Instead she
gave me a curt nod, turned on her heels, and entered the bathroom. With a heavy
sigh, I closed the door to our hotel room behind me as I walked down the hall
and turned my attention back to my niece.

“Daddy took me to my first dance class!”

“That’s awesome, Elle. Did you learn anything in your first
class?”

“Lots of stretching, but today was ballet, which was okay. Next
week is jazz! I’m totally looking forward to it.” I chuckled at how damn cute
she was. “So when are you coming back home? I want to show you and Mia some
moves I learned.”

“Soon, sweetheart.”

“Oh . . . Okay. Daddy wants to talk to you, Uncle Marc. I love
you.”

“Love you too, Elle

“Elle go play in the yard. I’ll be there in a little while.”
Jimmie’s voice came through the phone. “Hey, little bro,” he said after a few
seconds in a low tone. I guessed that he wanted to make sure Elle was no longer
around.

“What’s up, Jimmie.” I leaned against the hallway wall and looked
down toward our room, hoping I didn’t find Mia running off.

“So, Mom stopped by last night . . .” He paused, and with a heavy
sigh, he continued, “She told me what was going on.”

“She saved me the trouble, huh?”

“Bro, trust me when I say she was not happy with my thoughts when
she left, but she’s still our mother and a damn good one at that. Her issues
with Dad were buried right along with him fifteen years ago.”

“You don’t think I know that? But she had an affair with that
fuckin’ bastard, Jimmie. Out of all the men she could have had an affair with,
she had it with Lou! It fuckin’ disgusts me in more ways than one. You know the
fuckin’ excuse she had?”

“No, what was it?”

“That Dad was never around. She never felt lonelier in her life.
That he was always out on jobs—”

Jimmie blew out a low whistle. “I know, man. I know. I can’t
imagine what she was thinking when she messed around on Dad.” He paused for a
second. “Are you afraid that Mia will run off and do the same?”

“What? No.” I was shocked by that random question. I hadn’t thought
of it that way. Well, maybe deep down, there was some part of me that was
concerned. My mother had always seemed to be perfect in every way; she always took
care of her husband and her children. Then, suddenly, after all these years, I
found out that she had been unfaithful to my father. What made me think Mia
wouldn’t run off and do the same as well? My life now wasn’t much different
than my father’s was back then.

“Look. Trust me when I say that having complete trust in someone
is not the easiest part of a relationship. The five years I was married to
Cynthia, it wasn’t easy. Fuck, we argued all the time, but I loved her, and we
made it work. Building a relationship is never easy, Bro. You have to accept
and trust Mia and live happily or don’t and let her go.” He paused, and when he
noticed that I wasn’t responding, he proceeded. “I know you’re upset with Mom
because I am too, but your anger is not just directed at her, dude. Your anger
is based on your insecurities. You lost Mia once. You’re afraid of losing her
again. I lost my wife without the chance of ever getting her back. Don’t fuck
it up.”

Fucking asshole. I was pissed that he was fucking right in many ways,
and I’d never heard him talk about Cynthia since her passing. “You’re right.”

He laughed, “What was that? I didn’t hear you well. Can you
repeat yourself?”

“Fuck off! If you didn’t hear me the first time, tough shit.”

He burst out laughing. “Fair enough. Don’t forget to call Mom. She’s
freaking the fuck out and driving me insane. I have to take care of an eight-year-old.
I don’t need to be taking Mom in too.”

“Yeah. I’ll shoot her a text and tell her that we’ll talk when I
get back.”

“Cool, see you soon.”

After we ended the call, I sent my mother a quick text and tossed
the phone in my back pocket. I entered the hotel room and immediately walked
around in search of Mia. I was probably gone for twenty to thirty minutes.
After a quick glance around the living area and bedroom, I made my way to the
bathroom. The door was opened and I spotted her by the vanity. She was fully
dressed in a chocolate colored skirt, a teal blouse, and brown knee boots,
ready for the early dinner with her grandparents that evening. She looked
gorgeous. I leaned into the archway of the bathroom door. With my arms and legs
crossed, I studied her. Her expression was somber as she applied her makeup.
Her back was facing me, but I was able to see her reflection from the mirror in
front of her. She hadn’t noticed my presence yet.

I knew she was thinking about our argument. Her eyes watered, and
she leaned over the sink and took slow steady breaths. After she calmed herself,
trying to not cry, she looked back in the mirror and ran a piece of cotton wipe
covered with some type of gunk along her cheekbones. She was trying to hide the
red blotches that formed when she broke out in tears. I was a fucking asshole.
I promised myself that I would never cause hurt or tears for her again, and
that’s exactly what I had done. There she was crying over me again.

Mia must have finally sensed my presence because she looked up in
the mirror and our eyes locked. Her eyes were filled with sadness, and I was
the one responsible for it. She tore her eyes away and continued to apply her
makeup, as if I wasn’t there, as if she didn’t want anything to do with me.

And that fucking hurt.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MIA

There was no strength left inside of me: I didn’t want
to argue, cry, or even deal with any of it anymore. I just wanted to get ready
and meet up with the others for dinner that evening. Marcus stood by the
bathroom door, and I could feel his lingering heated gaze. I wasn’t sure how
long he was watching me, but the moment our eyes locked in the reflection of
the mirror, I wanted nothing more than to reach out to him, touch him, feel
him, and somehow comfort him. How could I? I was wrong and I knew it.

I had truly thought our relationship had taken a leap, that we
were finally moving forward, but at that moment, I wasn’t sure anymore. There
would always be doubt and secrets, but how much could a relationship take? I
loved him. I truly, with all of my heart and soul, loved him more than any
person could love another. Despite that fact, a time may come when even a love that
strong might not be enough. Until then, I had no choice but to stick it out and
fight for us. Was he willing to do the same? As the doubt crept through my
veins, I felt the warmth of fresh tears sting my eyes again. Great, I had tried
to steady my tears for the last fifteen minutes, and the fact that he was in
the bathroom watching me wasn’t helping.

Reaching out for a tissue from the granite vanity, I quickly
dabbed it along my lids.
Come on, Mia. Don’t cry. Don’t cry
. I took a
few steady breaths, and that was when I felt him directly behind me. His hand
gently clasped my arm. For a moment, he was hesitant as my body immediately
stiffened at his touch, but then he twirled me around to face him. My body
pressed against the counter top, as my gaze met his.

With troubled eyes, he framed my face with his hands. Gently he
caressed my cheeks with his thumbs. We continued to stare at each other at a
loss for words, afraid that any simple word spoken could be the wrong one.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. My mouth opened to speak, but he
cut me off. “No, listen to me. I’m an asshole. I’m sorry.” With pinched brows,
he shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of a memory.

“Yes, you are an asshole, sometimes.” He raised a brow at that. “But
you had every reason to be upset. I should be the one apologizing, not you. I’m
sorry.”

“Well, I’m trying to grow up.” He chuckled beneath his breath,
and then expression grew serious again. He then pressed his lips together
before tightening his hold along my face. “Mia, I know that my temper sometimes
gets the best of me. I’m trying to work on that—on a lot of things actually.
Telling you how I feel is a major one, but I’m also trying to do all of this without
having to hand over my man card.”

I snorted at that last comment. “Is that what this is all about?
Maintaining your man card?”

“No, I just wanted to see you smile.” He lightly shrugged and
flashed an adorable crooked grin. It was difficult to not forgive that smile,
but I dropped my amusement to show him that our argument hadn’t been forgotten.
He must’ve understood, because he released his hold from my face to grip my
hips and lift me on top of the counter. He nestled in between my legs, rested
his hands along my thighs, and cleared his throat. “Okay, give it to me.” He
blurted. Confused, I awkwardly shrugged, unaware of what he wanted me to give.
“Tell me what’s on your mind, at this very moment.” He tapped his fingers
against my thighs waiting for me to speak up.

“Well, to be honest?” He nodded once for me to go on. “It’s
frustrating being your girlfriend.” He laughed out loud not expecting that
response from me, I was sure.

“Go on.”

I let out a heavy sigh. “You have no idea how much I love you one
minute and want to strangle you the next.”

“Ditto.” He nodded once and then laughed at my pointed glare.

“I’m serious, Marcus. I want you to be able to tell me what
you’re feeling. Granted, not every single thing, because let’s face it, I don’t
tell you every time I’m down, stressed, or in a shitty mood.” I raised my hand
and pressed it against his jaw line, allowing my fingers to trace along the
prickles of his facial hair. “But when something is bothering you deep down, and
it’s taking a toll on you, on
us,
I expect you to confide me. Believe it
or not, I’m not going anywhere, Marcus. I’m not running away from our problems.
I want to fix them, even if we have to argue it out at first. That’s okay, as
long as you know I’m going to be here to talk it out with you at the end of
it.”

I searched his face and smiled as a soft grin formed along his
lips as he said, “I truly don’t deserve you, but I’m grateful every single day
that you’re mine. I know it’s frustrating at times, and I appreciate that even
through all the bullshit you still stick around. I didn’t realize how much my
bottled-up problems bothered you. I promise to work harder at it. Just know
that I am trying.”