Mia
Rolling over in bed, Mia savored the soft cotton of her sheets against her bare skin. Opening her eyes, she searched the room. She got up and brushed her teeth before pulling on her running clothes and throwing her hair back in a ponytail. Her stomach grumbled as it always did when she ate greasy food the night before. Bently had been great company, offering to take her to dinner after their dance. He’d walked her to her car and wished her goodnight like the perfect gentleman.
Running into Bently and Andre was the last thing she had wanted when she went to The Shipwreck. She’d wanted to not drink alone for once. For some reason, returning home and noticing the empty driveway next door had stirred up a burning sensation in her chest. Heartburn from the greasy food most likely.
Mia drank a few sips of water before heading out the door for her morning jog. The first mile was slow as she moved sluggishly. She was off. Good thing she had a meeting with her therapist today. Her last half mile was met with the familiar sounds of footfalls thudding behind her. Anger flared as her guard went up.
This time he didn’t pass, keeping pace with her from behind. She grew impatient, feeling his eyes bore into her. She turned. Andre’s glazed-over gaze was aimed at her ass. His eyes snapped back to the road.
“Enjoying the view?” she teased.
He grumbled and sprinted past her. If she had been keeping score, she’d have surely won this round.
***
Mia took an extra-long shower after her yoga before getting ready for the day. Even though she had no plans of leaving the house, she got dressed and did her hair. It helped her to stay motivated. One more tool in her toolbox when it came to fighting depression.
The familiar song of a Skype call sounded from her laptop. She clicked it open and greeted her therapist.
“Mia, it’s so good to see you.”
“You too, Dr. Martinez,” Mia said.
“How have you been doing? How was the move?” she asked.
Mia smiled. “It’s been mostly great.” Mia caught her therapist up on the events of the last week, both the good and the bad.
“Sounds eventful.”
“Yes,” Mia agreed.
“Have you had any more of your blacking-out episodes?” the doctor asked.
Mia shook her head. “Not since the last time.”
“What about panic attacks?” Dr. Martinez questioned.
Mia nodded. “Just one, but I know the trigger. Unfortunately, I can’t avoid this one for the foreseeable future.”
“Why not?”
Mia shrugged. “The man is a bully, but he happens to be my neighbor, my contractor, and the brother of one of my new friends.”
“I see.” Her therapist nodded, adjusting her reading glasses to perch on her nose. “Is it possible to find another contractor?”
Mia thought about it. Could she? She’d liked their work so far. They had been the only company willing to start right away, and for the best price. Plus, Remy was her friend, and to take business away from her husband seemed childish. “I’d rather not. I’ll just do my best to avoid Andre. I don’t know why he’s so . . . ugh . . . I don’t even know how to describe the way that man gets under my skin.”
Dr. Martinez smiled. “Are you romantically attracted to this person?”
“He’s hot. Like a ten out of ten. But the moment he opens his mouth, I just want to punch him in the face—not that I would.” Just knee him in the balls.
“Okay, well, you know what to do to manage your panic attacks when they happen. It’s best you try to minimize your contact with someone who isn’t respecting your boundaries, or consider eliminating them from your life as much as possible. In the meantime, I want you to try and open up more with someone—one of your new friends perhaps? Share some things with them about yourself. I know personal sharing is hard for you, especially with your situation. But this can be simply what your dreams are or fond memories. Open up,” Dr. Martinez instructed.
Mia swallowed, shifting uneasily in her seat. Her heart raced as she forced in a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. I will.”
Mia said her goodbye and signed off.
Ding-dong. Mia closed the laptop and jogged down the stairs to peer out the peephole of the front door. Two smiling faces greeted her as she opened it.
“Hey, chicas. What are you doing here?”
Remy handed her a basket filled with two bottles of wine and baked goods. “We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”
“Come on in. Thank you so much. This is so kind of you.” Mia accepted the basket as the women entered her home.
“No pequeños, little ones, today?” Mia asked.
“No, Mikel and Bently are on baby duty so we could have some girl time.” Jasmine smiled, tucking a dark strand of hair behind her ear. Jasmine’s almond-shaped eyes looked nothing like her brother’s.
“Perfecto. You can help me drink these,” Mia said, pulling the wine from the basket as she searched her drawer for a corkscrew.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Remy sighed as she sat in one of the barstools around the kitchen island.
“Please make yourself at home.” Mia encouraged Jasmine, who had held back.
They poured their drinks, and the conversation flowed more easily as one bottle turned into two.
“I have to say, I have never done day-drinking before, but I think it’s highly underrated.” Mia chuckled.
“There isn’t much opportunity for me as I’m almost always in mommy mode,” Jasmine said tracing the rim of her glass with her finger.
“I don’t usually drink more than one glass a couple times a year for special occasions, so I may be a little drunk right now,” Remy said before she hiccupped.
The women all shared a laugh.
Mia patted Remy’s thigh, about to say something, when the rough bump along her friend’s skin drew her attention. She immediately retracted her hand, noticing the long scar. “I’m so sorry. I was just going to tell you that it means you have to spend the afternoon with me until you sober up,” Mia said, hoping her apology was enough. She didn’t mean to draw attention to her friend’s injury.
Remy waved her hand. “Please don’t worry.” She pulled up her floral sundress to expose the full length of the healed dark flesh. “It’s a long story, but basically there was an intruder in my home and I was the only person to stop him from going after my daughter.”
Mia swallowed. Tears welled in her eyes. “Dios mío. I’m so sorry. I’m glad you and Lyra both made it out of that horrible situation.” She wiped her eyes.
“We all have different things we’ve had to face. I like to think I came out stronger from it,” Remy said, eyeing Jasmine.
Share something about yourself with your new friends. Open yourself. Her therapist’s words rang through her mind.
“That’s why I started doing yoga,” Mia blurted out.
“What’s why?” Jasmine asked, seeming intrigued.
“To help with . . . trauma,” Mia explained. Boy, when she decided to be more open, she went straight into the deep end. “It helps me connect my mind and body, to have something to look forward to, and to keep moving even when I feel . . . too depressed.”
“Maybe it could help me,” Jasmine said, her eyes meeting Mia’s as an understanding passed between the women.
“When should we have our first session?” Mia laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
“Tomorrow at the beach. We’re having a cookout at the cove,” Remy said.
“It’s a date,” Mia agreed.
Was it too much to hope Andre wouldn’t be there?