"I don't want to talk to him." Stubbornness had always been my downfall.
"I gathered that much," Dante said and chugged some orange juice.
"He makes me so angry, D," I explained. "What he does and what he says are two different things. I don't know where I stand with him."
"You don't know where you stand with him? Really?" Dante said, snorting.
"D, he tells everyone I'm a business arrangement. I feel like a prostitute who sleeps with him because my Dad needs to pay him back. It makes me feel cheap," I said feeling deflated.
Dante choked on his bite. When he recovered, he asked, "You guys have slept together?!"
My face went red and I shook her head. "No. No, but it's not like we haven't wanted to."
I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation, but it felt good to finally talk to someone about all this. It made the ache in my chest ease.
"The both of you need to talk about this, Mia," Dante told me. "He was in such a mood last night and you, darling, look a mess this morning."
I felt miserable and although it pained me to say it, I knew that Dante was right.
"I wouldn't even know where to begin," I admitted.
"Being in the same room might help," Dante suggested, and I resisted the urge to reach across and smack him upside the head. His phone started to ring, and he fished it out of his pocket. "Speak of the devil." Dante answered the phone and I drank from the mug, letting the morning sun bathe me. I thought Brazil might be the chance we needed to become closer, but it had driven a wedge between us.
"Yeah, of course. We'll get sorted now." Dante hung up and downed the rest of his orange juice in a single gulp. "We need to go. We're leaving this afternoon."
"This afternoon?" I asked surprised.
"Yeah," he said, and placed some bills on the table.
"I thought we were staying for a few days," I said to him.
"Change of plans."
Chapter Twenty Five
Lucas
The entire car ride to the airport I had been glued to my phone trying to sort things out before I had minimal contact for 8 hours. Through the fog of my hangover earlier, I had picked up a call from Lydia who had an update on my mother. A fall meant a trip to the hospital, and although Lydia tried to assure me everything was in hand, I wouldn’t be able to rest easy unless I saw her myself. They say the Lord only gave you as much as you could handle, and He was testing my limits at the moment.
Mia took a window seat again and for a moment I hesitated before Dante nodded to the seat beside her and dropped in the seat opposite. The flight took off and I balled my hands into fists and closed my eyes. Images of my mother filled my head. We maintained a close relationship, and I did my best to make sure she was comfortable and had what she needed.
"I think I'm going to see whether I can convince the pilot to teach me to fly this thing,” Dante said.
"I'll jump the moment you take the stick," Mia replied dryly.
I could hear Dante get up and leave. There was a gentle brush of fingers across my knuckles and my eyes snapped open. Mia stared down at my hands where the skin had split open. Thick scabs had started to form with the skin surrounding them angry and red. If I held on any tighter, I would undo the repair job that my body had initiated.
"What did you do?" she asked gently.
I snatched my hand away from her. Mia blew hot and cold and I didn't have the headspace for the games at the moment.
"Punched a wall," I replied shortly to answer her question.
"Who won?"
"The wall's still standing without a scratch on it."
An awkward silence settled between us again.
