Chapter 8:Mia's pov
578 Words
The brown-haired girl with an oval shape stared at me like I stole from her. She entered the house, sitting on the chair like like was used to this already.
I refuse to believe what I heard about her and Dario—I've heard enough and I'm ready to listen to Dario speak.
“It's improper to waltz into someone's home unannounced,” I said to her, crossing my arms around my chest.
She eyed me from top to bottom.” You look like the maid.” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“Pretty girl—do I look like a screen to you?”
“Tell me what you're doing here unannounced.” I challenged. I couldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be doing this.
Dario walked in on us—she sitting and me standing, waiting for her reply or her to leave.
“I don't think she's a friend.” I looked at Dario. He walked towards her, grabbed her by the elbow and walked out of the room.
*****
Dario entered the room, without the girl in sight. I knew she probably had to have gone by now.
“I'm sorry about everything that happened,” he said
“Who was she to you?” my question came out suddenly—I wanted to know. I was aching too.
“Not someone important.”
“Dario—
“Mia—it was no one. She's just a friend and we had a misunderstanding.” I looked into his eyes and I knew he wasn't telling me the truth. I want to believe him—I do
Mia he wouldn't lie to you…
My subconscious said.
“If you say so.” I finished.
“Was she the one that sent the text to you last night?” I asked. At Least I needed to know who sent the text last night. It's been bothering me. I haven't had a good night's rest.
“It was a wrong number. Apparently, it was unknown and the number was not saved on my phone—” he said.”—can you talk to me now?” he asked
“Yes. I thought you were lying to me for a second. It got me all worked up.”
“It shouldn't. I'm supposed to be at work right now.” he came close to me, holding my chin up for a clearer view of my face. His hand slid down my arm softly—gently. Making me purr like a cat under him.
“Why did you come home then?” I asked
“I missed you.”
“You have to go back.” I felt like I was in the movies and my husband left his work to come visit me. Felt glorified.
He kissed me—drawing my bottom lip between his teeth.
This is the only thing that mattered.
This.
This moment with him.
“Don't stay too long,” I said
“I won't,” he whispered in my ear after dropping a kiss on my forehead. Yes. I've never been as loved as I felt with him. I never felt love from my mother—she didn't care about me when she ran off with a man after giving birth to me, blaming me for ever existing. He makes me feel safe and I know it's too early to say that I've fallen in love with him.
I love him.
- Writer
