Soundtrack
What It's LikeâEverlast
Scar TissueâRed Hot Chili Peppers
3AMâMatchbox Twenty
5
Jack
Jack guzzled three cups of coffee before lunch, and that still wasn't enough to make his day go by any smoother. He spent the remainder of his weekend after Mia stormed out cleaning their apartment and silently repenting for seemingly never being able to do the right thing. He shut off his phone, slapped a new patch on his arm, and blasted music until he got the apartment looking as if it were brand fucking new.
He considered repainting the walls, just so that they'd look extra fresh, but paint was expensive, and the magic erasers Mia stored in the cleaning cabinet were essentially free.
He'd taken one out, wet it, rang it out, and then scrubbed at the various scuff marks on the walls. Everything seemed absolutely grand until he came back to the spots he'd started with, realized that the marks only looked worse, grabbed the packaging of the magic erasers and read the directions, which ended with "not to be used on flat paint."
"God fucking dammit," Jack sighed. He spent the next hour rearranging photographs, Mia's artwork, and furniture to cover the spots as best he could.
Now, all there was to do was wait. And send Mia pics of the clean apartment. And the rent he owed her.
***
Mia never asked Jack for money. Mia understood he had a greater need for it elsewhere. But, when Jack won the two March Madness pools he was in and had extra cash, rather than put it towards someone else, he used it on himself. He deserved to use it on himself. He'd won that money, fair and square. It was finally money that was his and his alone: this is what he told himself when he handed that money over after his first and second tattoo sessions. He just wanted to do something with that money for himself, when, he knew, he owed it to Mia, for she had been paying half the rent while she didn't even live there so he wouldn't have to disappoint anyone else when he came up short.
Now, after sending her what he should have never asked from her in the first place, money was a little more than tight, but he had enough to spare to add a fresh bouquet of flowers to the kitchen to round out his job of cleaning and tidying and fixing up. Even after all he had done, he walked through the apartment as if he were a home inspector. He tightened the leaky faucets and replaced the flickering bulb in the living space and readjusted the blinds so they'd hang perfectly straight.
All of this effort Jack put in paid off for him, for while the coffee had barely helped smooth out Jack's day, the fact that Mia returned his text that morning did. He wanted to give her what she wanted; he wanted to make her happy. Somehow, though, he still managed to ruin things every time he got near her. Jack knew Mia was better off without him, but she was going to be the one thing he was selfish with; he simply could not let her go as he knew what his life would be without her.
***
When Jack got home from work (hour after hour of fixing bullshit problems caused by the incompetent fucks who installed whatever technology it was that he needed to fix), he just wanted to sleep. He sure as fuck didn't want to go for a run, he didn't want to pick up something to eat, and he most certainly didn't want to do anything that would further set back whatever miniscule progress he'd made with his girlfriend.
Jack wasn't even home for five minutes before someone was knocking on the door, and his first thought was that if it were a cable salesman, he was going to end up with an assault charge against him (much to Mia's dismay). But there was no need; he pulled back the door to reveal his sweet Mia, a bag from their local sporting goods store held out in front of her, face bright with a smile, eyes clear and free of judgement.
"Olive branch."
Jack took the bag from her, set it on the couch, and scooped her up into his arms. He breathed her in, the soft waves of her hair smothering his face.
"You're not the one who needs to extend an olive branch. I'm sorry for what happened over the weekend."
She pulled back enough to look into his eyes. "Thank you for apologizing."
Jack set her down, and she eagerly scanned the apartment. Mia first went to their bedroom, and when she came back out without a frown on her face, Jack knew he'd done a passable job. She peeked into the bathroom and then popped her head into the kitchen, where she froze. It was only a few seconds before she stepped all the way in, stuck her nose in the bouquet of flowers on the table, ones he'd shoved into a large pitcher when he couldn't find a vase. He stepped forward into the doorframe between the kitchen and living space, and Mia peered back at him, eyes bright, and the tiniest specks of yellow pollen on the very tip of her nose; he brushed them off with a small rub of his nose against hers.
"You never bring home flowers," Mia said.
"Jesus, the bar couldn't be lower, could it?" Jack could feel the heat of her breath against his lips. "For the record, I'm sorry it's that low. I'm trying."
"You told me."
"And I'll keep telling you. I'll keep saying it because it'll help me keep trying. Manifesting or some shit. I read about it on some hippie chick's blog."
Rather than respond, she pressed her lips against his, and Jack reveled in the fact that her kiss brought more of a rush to his brain than the cigarettes in his car or the weed he passed off to Logan. The image of her without a stitch of clothing burned in his mind, and he began to pull her in the direction of their bedroom. Her lips broke from his, and a gentle laugh fell from them.
"No way. We're still on shaky ground. That's not going to help."
"Bullshit," he pressed against her lips. "It helps everything."
She laughed again, low and throaty, and Jack absolutely melted right there. No matter what she told him to do, he'd do it.
"Let's go for a run," she said.
Anything but that. Jack audibly groaned.
"I got you new shoes. You need to break them in before Saturday."
"I'm tired. Let's take a nap instead."
She shook her head at him. "I'll make you a deal. If you run with me today, tomorrow, and Thursday, and you don't blow off Saturday's 5k, I'll move back in."
Jack studied her face. "What does your brother think of this deal?"
"It doesn't matter what Andy thinks. This is between us." She squeezed his middle slightly tighter.
"Which means he doesn't even know you're here with me."
Mia didn't respond.
"He tries to convince you not to be with me."
Mia nodded. "Of course he does. You've given him plenty of reasons to do so. What would you do if your sister's boyfriend did the things you've done?"
"I'd fucking kill him, so I guess it's good I'm an only child. Keeps me off death row."
"So...a run?"
"Fine, let's change and go for a quick jog."
"A run. We're going for an actual run. You have run the full 3.1 miles before, right?"
Unable to give her a verbal answer, Jack shook his head.
"Okay, well, not great to hear if I'm being honest. How far is the farthest you've run in one go?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe, er, a little over two miles."
She let him see her eyes roll in full view. "We're running 3.1 today. And tomorrow. And Thursday. Friday is your rest day."
"Wow, so generous of you to give me a rest day after running nine fucking miles."
"9.3."
"Smart ass," Jack said, but he said it with a wry smile on his face so she wouldn't be too offended.
And then Mia winked at Jack, actually winked, and he felt a twitch down below.
"I know of another way to get in some cardio."
That was when she gave his chest a forceful shove. "Gross, Jack. Go get changed."
As she walked around him to leave the kitchen, he gave her ass the slightest of squeezes, and he knew it were only a matter of time before they were getting all the cardio work in they could ever need.
***
Mia kept him to it. It was near torture on his lungs, but he didn't have much of a choice. Mia made it clear that if he couldn't commit to such a short term goal, she wasn't coming back home.
She also made it clear that he'd perform best in the race (could you even call a 5k a race?) that he should stay home Friday night and avoid the "debaucherous" activities that tended to fill his weekends. He agreed to that so long as she agreed to come out with him the next night, which she reluctantly accepted.
The thing with Mia was that she could be so calm and proper and stable, while Jack was a fucking disaster most days. But Jack liked that she was somewhat boring; he liked that she had never touched a sip of alcohol until she was twenty-one and wouldn't even consider smoking or taking an edible and that she came from a nice family and that she was always genuinely shocked when he revealed something about himself her parents would never approve of. If he were honest with himself, he'd admit that she'd helped ground him, even if he didn't realize he'd needed that grounding. That was why he'd spiraled out of control when she wasn't with him, and he really couldn't afford to let it happen again.
As Jack sat on the couch, waiting for Mia to come over for a movie (she assured him three separate times that it would only be a movie), his phone buzzed and his dad's ever-smiling face lit up the screen, but his face brought less relief; Jack's heart pumped a few cold beats before he decided to take the call.
"Hey pops. What's up?"
"Not too much, Jacky boy. How are you?"
Jack hated that nickname for it brought back feelings of shame and guilt enough to make a therapist weep. "Dad. I'm not five anymore. Please retire Jacky boy from your list of names for me. I'm okay. I've been seeing Mia a bit more often."
"You don't say. How has it been going?"
"It's...going. Slowly. We're trying to figure things out."
"Well, I'd love to see her. Maybe you can bring her around soon."
"Maybe." Jack tended to keep Mia away; it was best for her. He loved her far too much to let her see the ugliness inside the Moreno home. "How's mom?"
Jack's dad went silent for a few seconds; the silence punctuated with a long sigh. "You know I've never lied to you, Jacky boy, and I'm certainly not going to start sugarcoating things now that you're well into adulthood. Mom, well, momâ"
"Started drinking again?"
His father sighed, and Jack could visualize him rubbing his temples with his thumb and forefinger. "I found a fifth of vodka shoved under the passenger seat of her car when I was cleaning it out the other day."
Jack let that sink deep into the pit of his stomach. "Did you find anything else?"
"No."
"It can kill her, dad."
"I know, Jacky."
He winced. "But you asked her about it, right?"
Silence. Another sigh. "No. I didn't want to upset her. I just put it in the garage. She never goes in there anyway."
"Okay." Jack knew it wasn't okay, but this was Jack's dad; what was he supposed to do? "Listen, Mia's actually on her way over, so I'll give you a call back this weekend."
"Alright, son. I, I also wanted to double check that you, well, thatâ"
"Of course, dad. Transferred it over this morning. You should see it by Monday."
His dad sighed one last time. "Thanks, Jacky boy. I love you."
"You too, dad."
The call was over with a click. Something in Jack's lungs burned, and he needed a cigarette or weed orâthe doorbell interrupted the dangerous path his brain was on. He got up from the couch, pushed whatever wasn't happy down into his stomach, and opened the door to reveal his sweet Mia laden with a single grocery bag.
"You live here. You don't need to ring the doorbell."
"I don't technically live here." She held up the bag, two pints of ice cream in it. "I got one for each of us. I know how much you hate sharing." Her nose scrunched at him.
"I'd always share with you."
"Yeah, okay. I got you this one, it's got cookie dough AND brownie batter. It's called High Times. Get it?"
"Funny. I didn't know you'd be advocating forâ"
"I'm most certainly not advocating for anything. Do not read into this. It's just funny." She shrugged her shoulders and moved into the living room.
"What kind did you get for yourself?"
"Just vanilla, per usual. I think there are still some sprinkles up in the cabinet. Do you remember seeing them?"
"Yes. I picked up more because you were almost out. I know you can't eat your ice cream without them. Really like living on the edge, don't you?"
"Ha-ha. I'll be back in a minute."
Jack sat down on the couch while she retrieved the sugary topping for her ice cream. While he was waiting, the short conversation with his dad rose into his throat like bile, and he desperately tried to swallow it down. When Mia joined him, her face held a pained expression.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, yeah just thinking."
She held out his pint of ice cream, neatly wrapped in a paper towel, and a spoon towards him. "About?"
"Nothing, really. Thanks." He took his ice cream from her, she settled in next to him, and he played some light, easy going rom-com he knew she'd love.
It felt like the early stages of their relationship again as she sat there in his arms. They were laughing and there was an ease about them and Jack was reminded of how far they'd fallen. He wanted to ask her to stay with him that night, but he also knew she wasn't ready; she'd set strict boundaries, and he wanted to show her that he could respect them. She needed to see him follow through with the commitment he'd made to her, and nothing was going to stop him from doing just that. Jack was so guarded, even with Mia, and that wasn't fair to her.
The credits rolled on the screen, and Jack squeezed Mia's shoulder with the arm that had been around her.
"Before you go, can I talk to you about something?"
Her brows furrowed, and she nodded. "Of course."
Jack took a shaky breath. Christ, why is this so hard? "I, well, I think I need to talk to someone."
"Yeah, Jack, it's totally okay. You can talk to me about whatever it is, even if we're not in the place we once were."
He took another breath as his head shook back and forth. "No, I mean, I think I need to talk to someone who is, like, a professional."
Realization broke across Mia's face, but she didn't look shamed or embarrassed or upset at all. In fact, Jack would identify the expression on her face as relief.
"That's wonderful, Jack. That'sâ" she stopped and threw her arms around his neck. "That's the most wonderful thing I've ever heard you say."
She held him so tightly that he feared he may cry. Mia held him there until he was the one to pull away from her, but she was the one to kiss him, long and slow, as if she were transferring her own beautiful life force into him, allowing all of her light to consume his darkness.
***
After Mia left that night, Jack laid in their bed curled up in the fetal position and sobbed. His pillow was wet with tears, and he ripped it from beneath his head, throwing it against the wall in a fit of shame and embarrassment. It knocked Mia's alarm clock off the dresser, which fell to the floor with a knowing crack, and he knew in the morning he'd have to order a new one. Thank God for two day shipping.
He'd tell her the old one simply stopped working, for even the thought of admitting to such a display of emotions was more than Jack could stand.
A/N: HI! I like reading books that make me cry which also means I like writing books that make me cry.
I'm traveling in the PNW right now and have been posting tons of pics to my Instagram story if you're interested (@ novels_and_coffee)
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xx,
L