“Maybe, she thought you looked perfect together.” Arching a brow quizzically, I pursed my lips at that, but Mateo’s expression didn’t change even as his eyes narrowed on me. “Appearances count for a lot for some people, and you and Sethdidlook good together. You’re beautiful, and she could go around telling anyone anything she wanted, and those people would probably never get within ten feet of you. Maybe, it was simple vanity and narcissism— look at my successful lawyer son and his gorgeous wife.”
“Wow, I never thought of it that way, but maybe you’re right.” Was Meredith so concerned with looks that actual happiness didn’t matter? “Considering she made herself look better than me at my wedding to her son, you probably are right, Mateo. That’s probably exactly it.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll never let anyone know you said that.” Smiling at the jibe, I chuffed lightly, and Mateo stuffed his wallet back in his back pocket to wrap his arm around me.
In a flash, we were back in the Lyft he’d ordered, and we left the hotel behind with all of us crammed in the back seat. The driver pulled off the curb, and Sriracha sat on Mateo’s lap while Ketchup took over mine. Leaning my head on his shoulder, I enjoyed the almost catatonic happiness that flooded every cell in my body.
And, hopefully, it’d be this way all the time from now on. Surely, we’d have to deal with the fallout once Meredith gets released, if she hasn’t been already. Seth had mentioned something before leaving about going home and sleeping, and then heading to the police station to bail his mother out.
“I really should buy a car- maybe an SUV, so I can fit all the dogs in it. Once the check clears and I get the house transferred, we’ll do that.” Humming softly in acknowledgment, my mind went to earlier at the real estate office. The senior guy that Mateo had talked to on the phone practically fell over himself with apologies and gave us the lowest the owners were willing to go. He had to call them and get them down here to do the transfer once the check cleared, but all the paperwork had been done. By Monday, Mateo would own the house across the street from me.
The notion was strange, like my house was a she-shed or something stupid by comparison. Not big enough for everyone, my home was just going to be my space, and Mateo would have his space, andwewould haveourspace. We didn’t talk about it, but I knew that’s what he thought the moment I bought it up. There were other houses in the area, but that one . . . I knew he really liked it.
27
Lucy
“I don’t know, Mickey. This seems like overkill.” Mikayla stuck a box of condoms into my cart with a softhmpf, and I frowned as I snatched it and put it back on the shelf. “Seriously, stop. I’m not gonna guess his size and risk getting it wrong, okay? What makes you think we’re gonna have sex, anyway?”
“You’re sleeping over— ofcourse,you’re going to bang. Okay, it’s been a week since he got his own place, and you two don’t have any more excuses not to.” Rolling my eyes, I trudged my butt toward the tampons as my best friend trailed along after me, dragging her feet dramatically. “Lucy-y-y, come on. It’s almost like you two aren’t physically attracted to each other. You just are, like, soul mates in the head or whatever.”
“That makes no sense.”If I can make it to shampoo and deodorant, we can leave. “Is it so impossible that sex isn’t the main pillar of our relationship?”
“Yes!” Wincing as she hissed in my ear like a snake, I shook my head roughly, and Mikayla flounced around my cart as we turned into the mouthwash aisle. “It is! I know that you two have been through some stuff, okay, but honestly, the guy’s hotter than hot, and you haven’t even kissed him.”
“I did so!” We were trying to keep it down, but the store was absolutely dead at this time of morning; no one was around but employees, and they didn’t care at all. “God, Mickey, you’re making it like we’re sixteen again.”
“Your physical contact with him makes you seem like you’re sixteen again. It’s like you’re . . . ” She finally shut up, and Mikayla’s face twisted into cautious concern, but I ignored it to grab a bottle off the shelf. “Are you afraid, Lucy?”
“What?” I dropped the blue bottle as surprise jolted through my veins, but the thick plastic stopped it from exploding when it landed right smack on the floor. My head whipped up, and Mikayla frowned as she licked her lips heavily. “Why would I be afraid?”
“Because, you know, his back. I know that you feel guilty about it, and that you haven’t seen it, yet. It’s not easy to look at, Lucy.” My eyes widened, and Mikayla’s tone lowered as she shuffled along the length of my half-full cart. She was right— Mikayla did see Mateo’s back, and I hadn’t. Iwasn’tafraid to see it, and I wasnotguilty, and I bent down slowly to grab the bottle of mouthwash and toss it in the cart.
“You’re looking too deep into it, Mikayla. Mateo and I haven’t screwed around yet because, hello,there are more important things than sex, damnit! And you’re right- there’s no excuses because they weren’t excuses in the first place. Believe it or not, but I’m more than capable of managing my relationship without my sex life being micromanaged!” I trembled with anger as my voice rose higher and louder, and Mikayla stepped back as I smacked the handlebar of the cart. “And for the record, I know what Mateo’s back looks like. I was there when it got like that! I don’t need you to try to tell me it’s ‘not easy to look at’now!Fuck!”
Blurting out the slur, I stormed down the aisle and left Mikayla at the other end, and my face burned. What the Hell was wrong with her? Did she forget that I wasliterallyinches away from that whip every time it flayed open Mateo’s skin? What did she think I did when he was passed out for hours at a time? Turning my cart with a wretched screech, I snatched a three-pack bars of soap off the shelf and kept on stomping to the shampoo aisle.
Mikayla hadno rightto be judgmental about Mateo and I being a little less than frisky. That went without saying. She didn’t understand what we’d been through, so who was she to comment on Mateo’sback.
Really, the shame here was that Mikayla was my ride home, and we were communal shopping— or, at least, we were supposed to be. All she could talk about was Mateo inviting me over tonight, and that in itself wasn’t the issue. The problem was she didn’t stop when I asked her to, and then she really, truly, asked me if I was afraid of because Mateo’s back was all mangled.
I knew what it looked like. More importantly, I knew that it was supposed to be on me, not him.
I turned into the shampoo aisle and kept turning my cart until it slammed into the rack, and my lungs screamed for air. When was the last time I breathed? I didn’t know, and the whole shelf tipped dangerously back and forth with an ominousclatter. Bottles fell off shelves and exploded, and black spots assaulted my vision as my knees gave out from beneath me.
It was supposed to be me.
Blinking hard, I wheezed pathetic, useless rasps, and my heart pounded dangerously as I struggled to get ahold of myself. Squeezing my eyes shut, I held my chest to keep my heart from busting through my ribs and craned my neck in an effort to breathe. All I saw behind my eyes was Mateo’s back, his skin hanging off in strips, and the phantom scent of blood and concrete coated the inside of my nose.
Why was everyone so judgmental? Even when everything was perfect, people still had terrible things to say? Mikayla wasn’t trying to be mean, but she didn’t just accept the fact that she couldn’t understand, either. Her opinions mattered to me, but there was a time when she needed to know not to voice them.
Laying down on the floor, I gulped down the dense lump in my throat and gasped for breath, and shivers raked my spine violently. My mind didn’t slow down even as my heart stabilized, and I cracked my eyes open to find bleary figures standing over me. Somehow, I managed to push myself to my feet, and I ran my hands up my teary face and into my hair.
“Get off me! Don’ttouchme!” Snapping viciously at the multitude of people trying to grab at me, I stumbled a little at the force of my own voice. Heaving shallow breaths, I grabbed my cart as the employees held their hands up, all women, all worried but not pushing me. Two men stood at the lip of the aisle, and I shoved my cart down to start grabbing open bottles of shampoo and throwing them into the bed.
I could feel Mikayla staring at me, and my lip curled in a snarl as I got down to scrape splattered shampoo off the linoleum. Goosebumps blanketed my arms and under my tank top, and my jeans felt too tight as my body gorged on a cacophony of raging emotions.
Realization struck me— I didn’t have anywhere to put this goop, and I glanced around through wide, dazed eyes. I only had a wallet, not a purse, and my hands tingled as I started stuffing jean pockets with shampoo. There wasn’t a lot, only a few bottles burst, not even half a dozen, and the splattering hadn’t been too bad.
