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Her eyes are cold when they stare back into mine. Pure hate radiates from her, but that’s okay, because I know the same hatred emits from me as well.
I feel Mac pull me back again and I let him, done with my rant. Tessa doesn’t say anything, but I know she wants to. Huffing and puffing, she marches past us and out the door. Once she steps off the porch, she turns. “Have T ready at noon on Friday,” she says, and marches to her car. We watch as she speeds down the driveway.
I pull myself from Mac’s arm and turn to face him. I see a tic in his jaw and I know he’s still mad. The feeling is entirely mutual. How dare that bitch imply I would say something to T about what happened back in high school. He’s a kid, for Christ’s sake! I’m also pissed that I put myself in a situation where I’m faced with Mac’s son and his cuntcake of a mother.
“What are you doing here, Mia?” he asks. I can’t tell if some of his anger is directed toward me or if I’m just in the vicinity and therefore in its path. His question pisses me off even more.
“I came here so we could have this so-called talk you’ve been begging me to have. I’m thinking now it was a mistake and I should go. I wouldn’t want to taint your son with my presence.” I finish on a sneer. I know it’s not fair to be pissed at him for what Tessa said, but I can’t help but feel resentment toward him for her being here. I also know it’s unfair because he has to associate with her because of Trent. I harbor no ill feelings toward Trent, but it still hurts to look at him. He’s a reminder of all I lost.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. You know I don’t feel thatway so don’t try to pull that shit. Yes, I want to talk to you but I know being around T is hard on you. I want to avoid adding to your pain. You should have called me before coming over.”
It’s true, I should have called him, but I had no idea they would be here. She lives several towns over, and as far as I know, doesn’t come here very often, or at least I haven’t seen much of her in Jaded Hollow.
“It doesn’t matter. Clearly, this isn’t a good time. I’ll call next time.” I turn to walk away but he stops me.
“No, wait just a damn minute. You’re here, we may as well talk now. I’ll set T up in his room with his Xbox and we’ll talk in the living room. There’s no telling the next opportunity I’ll get.”
He’s right. My decision to hear what he has to say is wavering. Seeing Tessa again has brought back the old anger. And seeing Trent and everything he represents has caused the pain to resurface. I don’t know if I’ll find the courage again.
Making my decision and hoping it’s the right one, I walk into the living room. When I enter the large room, I see Trent sitting on a dark brown sectional sofa, playing some type of handheld game. Another sharp pain hits my chest at the sight of him. I turn and face the sliding glass door that leads to the back porch. I feel guilty that I can’t even look at him. He’s just a kid and is in no way at fault. It’s just simply too painful.
I hear Mac enter the living room behind me. “Hey, T, come with me. I’m going to set up the game in your room while Mia and I talk for a bit.”
In the reflection of the glass, I watch as Trent swings his head back and forth between the two of us before he asks, “Why?”
“Doesn’t matter why, kid, just do as I say. Grab the console and let’s go.” His tone brooks no argument.
I hear some grumbling before Trent gets up and grabs the console from beside the massive TV and walks out of the living room with Mac trailing behind him.
Once they leave, I take the opportunity to look around. The place looks different from the last time I was here. Turning to myright, I see a big fireplace. On one side is a bookshelf that has a shit-ton of books and CD and DVD cases. One shelf is filled with picture frames. I make my way over to it, curious as to what he has displayed.
The first picture I see is of Mac in his teens. His parents are on either side of him. His dad has his hand on his shoulder. Mac is already taller than his mom and he has his arm thrown over her shoulders with her head resting on his. All three are smiling and seem happy.
I move on to the next picture. This one is of Mac holding baby Trent. Trent couldn’t be any more than a few days old. Mac has the biggest grin on his face and you can tell by his expression that he’s a very proud daddy. I look away when I feel sadness and anger seeping in at the thought of him sharing that with someone else.
The next picture has me catching my breath. It’s of me and Mac on Marabelle. It was the first time I had ever ridden her. I’m sitting in front of Mac and he has his arms wrapped around me, holding the reins. His head is resting right next to mine while he explains how to direct a horse. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I had always been fascinated with horses, and always wanted to learn to ride one, but had never gotten the opportunity. When Mac found this out he rectified the situation immediately. I loved it right away. And what made it even more special was that I got to have Mac’s arms wrapped around me. I remember feeling so safe and warm. Butterflies were swarming in my stomach and my heart rate picked up when he swung up behind me and put his arms around me and his thighs on either side of mine. We were still in the simple kissing phase of our relationship.
I reach up and run my fingers across the frame. We were both so happy back then. The world was at our fingertips and I still had my dreams of having Mac at my side forever. I was so innocent back then and Mac was one of the sweetest guys I knew. I loved him with everything I had and was willing to do anything to make him happy.
A throat clearing behind me brings me back to reality. I turnand see Mac watching me intently. He’s leaning casually against the door frame with his arms crossed.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asks me.
“Sure. Got any beer?”
His lips quirk up on one side. “Yep.”
He pushes off from the wall and starts across the living room. I follow him through a doorway and enter a medium-size kitchen. Although the layout is the same, the appliances and design are different than the last time I was in here. The appliances are new, but still have an old-fashioned feel. Instead of the flowered wallpaper that used to decorate the walls, it’s now painted a soft blue. There’s a border at the top that features different breeds of horses. The table is the same one that was here years ago. It’s an old, scarred, wooden rectangular table. Jaxon, Anna, and I have eaten many meals at that table with Mac and his parents.
Mac walks over to the fridge and pulls out two beers and hands me one.
“When did you remodel?” I ask him, before taking a swig.
“A few years ago. It’s mainly just the kitchen and bathrooms that I renovated. I wanted to modernize the plumbing. I also did the wiring throughout the house. Got tired of the damn electricity going off all the time.”
I chuckle a little at that. “I remember a time or two it going out while I was here. Do you remember the time we were in the basement when it went out?”
He quirks an eyebrow at me. “Oh, you mean the time you almost killed us both?”
