Page 15 of Claimed By my Frenemy

When I don’t move, Mia whirls around and heads toward the checkout in a rush.

I stand there for a moment, debating whether to let her go or follow her. I can’t let this awkwardness between us continue. I start walking, catching up with her just as she reaches the counter.

“Mia, wait.” I start to grab her arm, but as soon as my fingers graze her skin, she jerks away from me.

She at least turns to look at me, though. “What, Theo? What else do you have to say to me, and why do I have to stand here and listen to you? I gave you the chance to lay out your case for buying the house yesterday. You did that. What do you need from me now?”

She angrily scans her paint can at the self-checkout and pushes buttons.

I struggle with getting the words out, but once they come, there is no stopping them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I’vehandled things. I know I’ve been pushy, and I didn’t mean to disrespect your feelings or your grandmother’s memory. When I get focused on a project, I can’t see past it sometimes. It just kind of takes over my life.”

She stares at me, her expression softening slightly, but she quickly masks it with anger. “Apologizing now doesn’t change anything, Theo. You’ve been a complete jerk, and you know it.”

I wonder if that’s why she stopped kissing me last night. What if I had just shown up on her doorstep without an offer to buy her house? What if I had started the conversation with. “Hey! Do you remember me? Your first boyfriend ever?”

And then, she would have dragged me inside the house. She would have thrown her arms around me and hugged me. Maybe we would have kissedthen. And who knows what could have happened between us? But I had to let my project come first.

I almost regret trying to buy her property, but I remind myself that I can’t trade success for a woman. Women almost always leave at some point, but the results of success can last forever. Just like my last girlfriend decided another man was better than me, I know better than to rest all of my hopes on someone else.

Even as I’m trying to logically think things through, my heart is telling me Mia is different. She’s fiercely loyal. I should know.

“I want to make things right. Can we at least talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “You want my house, and I’m not selling it. End of story. I don’t know why you keep bringing it up.”

“I didn’t even bring it up this time,” I protest.

But Mia isn’t listening. She’s already storming out of the store, paint can in hand, leaving me standing there feeling more frustrated than ever. I pay for my items quickly and rush out after her. I spot her heading toward her car and jog to catch up.

“Mia, please! Just give me a chance to explain.”

She spins around, her face flushed with anger. “Explain what, Theo? That you’re willing to do anything to get what you want? That you’re trying to bully me into selling my home? Was that what last night was? You started kissing me because you thought ‘at least if I’m sleeping with her, then she has to agree?’ Do you know how manipulative you are?”

“No, that’s not it. What? No. My attraction to you has nothing to do with the house. I mean, yes, they are related because you own the house, but I mean… I wouldn’t do something like that.”

“How am I supposed to know that? You’ve changed in these last ten years.”

“Yeah, so have you. That’s not a bad thing.”

Some of the anger has left Mia’s voice. She just sounds disappointed now. “I just think it would be better if we don’t interact. I’m just trying to enjoy my life, enjoy finally getting the chance to start my own business and do something other than work an eight to five every day for the rest of my life. And you…”

“Look, I just... I didn’t realize how much the house means to you. I thought you’d be happy to move on, to start fresh somewhere else.”

The firmness returns to Mia’s tone. “Well, you thought wrong. This place is all I have left of my grandmother. It’s my home, Theo, and it has my memories. I’m not leaving it, even if you offered me a million dollars.”

I feel a knot in my chest at her words, the realization of how much I’ve hurt her sinking in. “I’m sorry, Mia. Seriously. I never meant to hurt you. My business partner and I had planned to add your property since we started construction, and when I saw you show up, I thought it was the perfect chance to make the offer.”

She shakes her head, tears welling up in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter if you meant to hurt me or not. You did. End of conversation.”

Before I can think of a response, Mia gets into her car and slams the door harder than necessary. I back out of her way and watch helplessly as she drives away.

Well, that conversation didn’t go well. The words replay in my head, and I criticize myself for how I addressed the whole situation.

Instead of going back to the property, I drive home, my mind racing. I need to clear my head and figure out how to fix this mess. As I walk into my house, which is pretty small for the amount of money I have, I head to the attic. I haven’t been up here in over a year, but something is pulling me toward it.

The attic is dusty and cluttered with old boxes. I moved a bunch of stuff here from my parents’ house when I first bought the place, and I’ve added things as we’ve gone. Now, an artificial Christmas tree stands in the corner, covered in plastic, waiting for December. A couple of boxes of clothes that are no longer my style are stacked neatly against one wall.

But as I stand at the entrance to the attic, I realize that I’m not looking for any of those things.

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