Another week passed, and Derek was relentless. He’d started out with the occasional text, but their chats had gotten more regular even though she had no interest in getting back together with him. She’d made that clear from the outset, but she hoped she could salvage some of the friendships she’d lost in the wreckage of their relationship, as if her entire time there hadn’t been a waste.
What made things worse was ever since Sky found out Derek had been texting her all the time, the woman pulled away. Just the slightest bit. While most might not notice, few knew Skylar Jenkins as well as she did. Mia wanted to grab her by the shirt sometimes and shake sense into her—their chemistry was next level, and they had the comfortable ease in their communication that would translate perfectly into a relationship. She could see this so clearly, and yet Sky continued to evade her every attempt to push the matter a little further.
Sky was everything she wanted in a partner, and she found it far too easy to lie back and daydream of the future they could claim together.
If only the woman could break past the steel bars she’d encaged herself in.
Tomorrow was the anniversary of Jamie’s death, though, and if anything, Sky’s walls had fortified from mud bricks to concrete. The queen of self-sabotage was determined to shut her out, though Sky needed someone more than ever right now.
Mia sat up from the project she’d been working on. Her sketchpad lay on her lap, and pencils and ink pens scattered around her while she continued her current piece. She’d lost herself in the headiness of sketching and inking, something she’d forgotten about until this quarantine. The hour had grown late and her back stiffer than ever. On top of that, she needed to pee after the back to back drinks of cider, then water, and then coffee she’d downed.
Sky’s door edged open a crack—she’d jumped in on a Zoom chat with Aubrey. Mia straightened up and snuck to the door, preferring to use the good bathroom. Not like the other one was bad, but the one attached to Sky’s bedroom was better.
Mia snuck by, trying not to disturb Sky. With her earbuds in, Sky didn’t glance back, staring at her friend’s face in the glow of the computer screen. Mia slipped into the bathroom with finesse, the door not even creaking as she brought it shut. Mia was about to stride over to the toilet when the fringes of their conversation reached her.
“When this is over, we’re doing a Rehoboth trip, you, me, and Kyle.” Aubrey’s voice came out clear over the speakers. “You bringing anyone with you this year, or are you going solo?”
“Uh.” Sky paused, and some rustling sounded.
Mia lived in the pause for far too long, clutching her fist to her chest. Sky had refused to give her a straight answer, but maybe she would for other friends.
“Going solo,” Sky said, her voice solemn.
Mia sagged against the door. Tears pricked her eyes. Maybe she’d fucked them up in the first place by never realizing Sky’s crush all those years ago, by ditching her best friend when she needed her more than ever. But she’d believed this thing between them would be endgame. That Sky would pull her head out of her ass and realize they’d found a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
That passing this chance by would break them both.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, hot trails of all the questions, longings, and fears she’d kept pent-up until now. Maybe she didn’t know where she needed to be after all. When she returned to Wilmington, she’d been so sure she’d made the right move. However, with Mom moving to Austin, Derek begging her to come back to Seattle, and Sky continuing to push her away, what was she even staying for?
She peeled herself away from the door and made a quick walk over to use the toilet, trying to ignore the stickiness on her cheeks. And she wouldn’t be able to find comfort in Sky’s arms tonight, not after overhearing that conversation. The water cascaded over her hands as she washed up—no doubt Sky would know she was here now. Mia didn’t know what to say anymore.
Overhearing the conversation scraped like rugburn that wouldn’t heal, an abrasion on her heart threatening to spread. This time living with Sky had been a microcosm of perfection, but when this quarantine ended, she’d be out on her own again—and she’d have to keep moving forward, whether she wanted to or not.
Mia splashed some water on her face to try and clear the trails of her tears before she turned the faucet off. The peak of the virus had hit, and barely anyone left their homes these days, but with the forward strides made on the medical end of things, it was only a matter of time before the officials lifted this. She strode to the door, but her hand froze on the handle.
She didn’t hear any sign of conversation, which must mean the chat had ended. Mia’s gut clenched tight. She needed to start putting some distance between them, for her own sanity. At least, after tomorrow.
Mia sucked in a steadying breath and turned the knob, stepping out into the bedroom. Sky sat on the unmade bed, looking gorgeous and rumpled like the blankets around her. She glanced at Mia and patted the bed.
“I didn’t hear you come in. Want to head to bed early?” Something seductive and sweet lingered in Sky’s tone, but Mia couldn’t take that right now.
Right now, she wanted to run out the door of this apartment and find her own space to hide. But with shelter-in-place being enforced, there was nowhere else she could go. Heat welled in her eyes again. She wouldn’t be able to fake anything tonight.
She also knew Sky still wouldn’t give her answers.
Mia ran her fingers through her hair. “Nah, I think I’m going to stretch out on the futon tonight.” The words came out fainter than intended as she took careful steps toward the door.
Sky sat up straight on the bed, her brows drawing tight together in concern. “Everything okay, Mia B? Did I do something wrong?”
Mia shook her head, brushing her fingertips across her forehead. “Just a migraine. I figure I’ll sleep it off.”
“If you want to lay by me, I’ll stroke your head,” Sky offered. “Maybe that’ll help?”
Mia’s lips pressed into a thin line. The woman was drowning and resuscitating her at the same time with this sweetness. Not like this back and forth pull would matter for long. Their arrangement would all be over once she moved out. “Sounds tempting, but I’m bad company tonight,” she murmured before stepping through the door and bringing it shut behind her.
She tiptoed over to the futon and grabbed one of the blankets folded in a stack beside it, unused apart from curling up together on the balcony or snuggling on the couches while watching a movie. This place held landmines all over, and every step forward brought a fresh wave of pain.
Mia barely reached the futon by the time the tears started coursing down her cheeks again. She wrapped the blanket around herself and curled up on the futon, facing the wall. Her mouth remained closed, her tears silent, but her shoulders shook with the weight of her frustrations. She’d been fragile glass and the comment had been the steel bat swing she’d needed to shatter.
She had to separate herself from this arrangement before she got any more attached. Just because Sky had been one of her best friends didn’t mean the woman would be willing to commit to the forever type of relationship Mia searched for. She hated the way her chest squeezed like a tightening fist, how she’d read into those lingering looks in Sky’s eyes and hoped for more.
Every time Mia fell for someone, she dove right off the cliff’s edge, and every time she splintered to pieces, she lost another fragment of herself.
Times like this, it grew all too easy to see how her mother’s bitterness had formed and solidified, gluing the pieces into place over time until they became a seamless part of her. Mia couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t become that person.
Which meant once the quarantine ended, she would have to put some distance between her and Sky before she moved on.
Mia closed her eyes, though her heart’s aching pulse kept her awake far longer than she’d anticipated. Eventually, her breaths evened, and she drifted to sleep.
The next morning, Mia woke up to bright light streaming through the windows, a gorgeous day when it had no right to be. Despite the way she’d fallen asleep last night, as she set the coffee to brewing and leaned against the kitchen counter, one event dominated her mind.
Seven years had passed since she’d let the brunt of Jamie’s death slam into her like this. The first anniversary had been the hardest, but when she’d headed across the country, somehow being removed from Sky, her family, and the locations back home softened the blow. She didn’t forget, per se, but she’d distracted herself.
She had the luxury to. Jamie’s death had left a deep score mark that could never be sandpapered out, but what she’d experienced was nothing compared to Sky.
Sky’s world had changed overnight, and she’d watched her best friend lose hope for a future, like colors drained off a canvas. By the time Mia had left for college, that hadn’t shifted, and Sky clung to those altered beliefs like the memories of her sister. The coffee finished brewing, spitting the last dark drops into the carafe, and Mia grabbed two mugs. Today, she could put her own feelings aside, because today more than ever, Sky needed her best friend.
The door to Sky’s bedroom creaked, and a pang of regret throbbed through Mia at not being in bed with the woman when she woke up. She never slept as good as she did by Sky’s side, their limbs tangled together while they held onto each other for dear life.
Sky didn’t meet her eyes, trudging over to the kitchen as she slid her fingers through her shorter strands. She’d tossed on a gray sweatshirt and black basketball shorts, walking her way barefoot. Dark circles under her eyes made it clear she’d barely slept.
“I got the coffee going,” Mia offered, pouring the steaming liquid into the two mugs. Before Sky stepped into the kitchen, she’d already fixed their cups up the normal way they took them. Mia pushed the one mug over to Sky, who slumped against the counter.
“Thanks, babe,” Sky said, her voice coming out soft and tentative, as if it hadn’t been used in ages.
Quiet lapsed through the kitchen as they both leaned against the counter sipping at their piping hot coffees. Mia wanted to reach out and offer comfort, but she didn’t know what to do or say in this situation. With the way Sky stiffened at every mention of her sister, she clearly hadn’t come close to healing from the gaping loss yet, and Mia didn’t want to push her into uncomfortable territory.
“Did you know mortality and mortal come from the Latin word mors, which means death?” Sky commented as she sipped her coffee.
“I’m guessing you have an entire arsenal of morbid facts for today,” Mia commented, sliding in closer to Sky so their legs touched.
Sky glanced at her and offered a half-smile. “Yeah, though, usually my folks are the ones privy to them. We’d always go down to the cemetery and pay her a visit.” Sky sucked in a breath only to exhale as if she released a part of her soul. “Except with all of the restrictions due to TELA, Jamie’s cemetery is closed. And we can’t even meet up together because of the lockdowns.”
Mia’s heart hurt. Even more lives were being lost from this virus, and so many couldn’t mourn their loved ones together. She hated that Sky and her family would be apart today.
“Well, fuck, that’s shitty,” Mia murmured, leaning in more against Sky. She could feel the woman’s pain in the static tension of the air, and God, she wanted to take it away so badly. No matter what happened between her and Sky, she’d fight to preserve their friendship this time. “What can we do?”
Sky’s eyes widened, her brows going up in surprise, as if she didn’t realize Mia would be with her in this. “I’m going to Facetime with my folks later, but you’re welcome to join me.”
Mia eyed the booze hutch in the living room. “Why don’t we have some drinks tonight. If you want to stay quiet, we can do that, but if you want to talk about Jamie, we can do that too. Whatever you need.”
Sky leaned against Mia, her arms wrapping around to pull her tight. “You’re a goddamn miracle, you know that? I’ve been freaking out about this day for the past week, but having you here with me… it makes a difference.”
Mia swallowed hard, sinking against Sky. The woman’s scent surrounded her, all cedar and spice, and her eyes prickled with unshed tears at how much she’d come to treasure the feel of Sky by her side. How attached she’d grown to the connection between them.
She didn’t want to let it go.