Page 24 of One Night with the CEO

“Please, could you have them ask her to call me?”

“They have already told her that you’re trying to get in touch. I’m afraid that’s all we can do.”

Genevieve stared dumbly at him. She felt like she might be going into shock. Mia didn’t want to talk to her?

That made no sense. Mia always came to Genevieve with her problems, just as Genevieve did with Mia. What could have happened to make it otherwise?

Genevieve sank heavily into a chair as memories of Kate bombarded her. This was exactly how things had ended with Kate. Just… nothing. No calls, no explanation, no contact.

Was history repeating itself?

A couple of hours ago, Genevieve would have said that was impossible, that Mia would never do that to her, but what was she supposed to think now? Officer Williams had confirmed that Mia was safe and free to contact her if she wanted to.

Had Genevieve done something? She frantically wracked her brain, going over their last couple of interactions. Mia hadn’t been acting oddly at all. Everything between them had been great, at least from Genevieve’s point of view.

She went home, half-expecting to see Mia on her doorstep with a bunch of flowers and an apology, but her driveway was depressingly empty.

Genevieve wandered inside, moving aimlessly from room to room. She didn’t know what to do. What did she do with her evenings before Mia? She could barely even remember a time before Mia.

Eventually, she decided to get an early night. Surely, Mia would contact her tomorrow.

Mia didn’t contact her the next day, or the one after, or even the one after that.

A week passed with complete radio silence. Genevieve’s initial dismay started curdling into hot anger. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She didn’t deserve to be treated this way. If Mia didn’t want to be with her anymore, then she at least owed Genevieve the decency of telling her so.

She had been right all along. Getting involved with Mia was a mistake. It was said that you attracted the same kinds of people in relationships. Well, Genevieve should have listened to that theory sooner. Not only did she seem to attract people who would leave, but people who would leave her without a word or any form of closure.

This was never going to happen again. Genevieve had been an idiot for letting Mia worm her way into her heart. She was just busy berating herself for exactly how stupid she had been when the doorbell rang.

Genevieve was still lost in her disgruntled thoughts as she opened it, expecting a delivery, and it took a moment for her to register what she was seeing.

Mia was there, standing right in front of her.

Genevieve swayed on her feet as she was bombarded by conflicting emotions. She didn’t know whether she wanted to scream at Mia or kiss her.

In the end, she did neither. Genevieve folded her arms tightly across her chest. “What are you doing here, Mia?”

“Please, Genevieve, can we talk?”

“If you wanted to talk to me, you should have done so a week ago. I’ve been worried sick about you. Did you know I went to the police? I thought you’d been kidnapped!”

Mia hung her head. “I know. I’m so sorry, Genevieve. I understand if you can’t forgive me, but please, could you at least allow me the opportunity to explain?”

Genevieve was sorely tempted to slam the door in Mia’s face, but Mia looked so distraught that she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her dark hair was up in a messy bun, her big green eyes looked like they had been crying.

“Fine.”

Mia had better have a fucking good explanation for this, or Genevieve was going to revisit the kicking her out and slamming the door in her face idea.

Mia fiddled with her hands as she sat on the couch opposite Genevieve. “I told you about my stepfather, but I never really talked much about my mother.”

This wasn’t the direction she had expected the conversation to go in. “That’s right,” Genevieve said guardedly. “What of it?”

“Well, my mother was never abusive, but she sat by and let the abuse happen to and around her, which is almost as bad when there’s a child suffering that abuse with you. I begged her to get rid Harold, but she insisted that he would change his ways, that he was trying. I resent her almost as much as I do him for what I went through.”

“That makes sense. She was your mother. She should have protected you.”

“Harold died last week,” Mia said quietly. “The first thing my mother did was get on a plane and come to find me. I never even knew that she knew where I was, but apparently, she found me through my work. Anyway, she came to tell me about Harold, as if him dying would make everything okay and we could pick up back where we left off.”

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