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The amount of sympathy in her voice compels me to turn my head against the blanket over her lap and hide my face completely. She doesn’t prod. Nothing but the wacky antics happening on screen disturbs my self-pity session. Mia already knows me well enough to let the silence stretch and simply go on stroking her fingers through my hair to letme know she’s here. I truly don’t deserve her.
I lay that way for a while, hiding from my problems, when suddenly a knock sounds on my door.
I pop my head up and share a startled look with Mia.
“Did you order takeout?” she says.
“No, did you?”
“Definitely not.”
Our mutual confusion deepens. It’s too late for it to be someone with a pamphlet about their church or a door-to-door salesman, but who else would be knocking on my door at all, let alone at this time of night?
A second knock comes, this one louder and more urgent. Then a voice calls through the door.
“Avery, are you home? It’s me.”
The surge of emotion that explodes in my chest must overflow onto my face, because Mia’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Is that him?” she mouths, barely pronouncing each word.
I nod mutely.
“Holy shit,” she mouths.
Then she flies into action, smoothing down my mussed hair. I left it loose, too lazy to do anything with it, and she quickly arranges it around my shoulders so it falls neatly onto my chest.
“I’m wearing sweatpants and an old T-shirt,” I say. “What do I do?”
“Answer it, bitch. Stop pretending you’re not gorgeousjust because you’re in sweats.”
Mia all but pushes me off the couch, and I force myself onto shaky legs. I can’t bring myself to approach the door, however. What possible reason would Diego have for coming here after that conversation we had in his office a few days ago? What is suddenly so urgent that he needs to march out here at this time of night? Is this him putting the final nail in the coffin, pushing me away for good, tying up loose ends so I know there’s not even a glimmer of hope left? No, that doesn’t make sense. He could do that over text. He’s here in person for a reason.
“Avery,” he calls. “Please answer. Please.”
His pleading finally motivates my body to move, but it’s like I’m floating toward the door instead of walking. I can barely feel my legs. My chest is fluttering and thrumming like my heart is a bee hopping anxiously from flower to flower. I’m hardly breathing when I reach the door.
The thud of the deadbolt unlocking beats like a hammer against an anvil. I crack the door open and there he is, standing on my doorstep looking absolutely frantic. The fear in his face has me throwing the door open wider. Diego sweeps inside, but his gaze darts immediately to Mia on the couch.
“Hey,” Mia says, waving awkwardly. “I’ll just … um…”
“I’m sorry,” Diego says. “I didn’t realize… I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“We were watching movies,” I say, numb, hollow, my brain locking up like an old engine as I try to process all of this.
Mia is already getting herself up off the couch. “I’ll head out.”
It takes until she’s throwing her coat and shoes on at the door for me to catch up.
“Wait, Mia. I’m sorry. I’m not kicking you out,” I say.
She pauses, smiling at me. Mia pats my shoulder and leans in close to kiss my cheek. As she does, she speaks low and quiet in my ear.
“Go get him, Avery. You’ve got this.”
My heart swells with gratitude. I hug Mia before she can slip away, and she squeezes me tight. She gives me one final smile before she sneaks out the door.
Then it’s just me and Diego. Me and Diego standing in the foyer in awkward silence, staring at each other, waiting for the other person to start speaking.
