Page 56 of Hidden Echoes

I wish I could blame Mia for that, but the truth is, I just don’t feel like it. I don’t need to promote myself anymore—people know my brand. If they want a tattoo, they go to one of my studios. Showing up to bullshit events feels pointless now. Carter, though? He eats that attention up. I let him have it.

Carter:I don’t like her.

Me:Yeah? Well, too bad. Mia’s staying a while, so deal with it.

Carter:Why? I thought you were just babysitting for now.

Me:We got married.

I wait. And wait. And there’s no response from Carter.

He’s pissed.

I can deal with him later.

I look ahead and realize there’s no sign of Mia. She’s gone. Completely gone.

Shit. Shit.

I lost her.

I look frantically around the pet store, my heart racing as I search for Mia. How did she disappear so quickly? She was just there, smiling at that Mickey Mouse outfit, like the world was one big joke. Now the thought of her being gone, even for a second, fills me with an unexpected dread. I may not be ready for this wedding, but the last thing I want is to lose Mia in a place like this.

I walk past the shelves of cat food, past the colorful toys that look more like they’re for kids than animals, and there’s no sign of her. Shit. Why hadn’t I been more attentive? But of course, with everything on my mind—the wedding, the cat, Carter bugging me—I didn’t think I needed to keep an eye on her.

I walk up the aisle to the animal clothing section. And there, finally, I see her. She’s cuddling a giant bear, fast asleep.

Of all the places to find Mia, I never expected to see her so... calm.

I stop at the entrance to the aisle, watching her for a moment. She’s lying on the linoleum floor, holding the teddy bear like it’s a cozy blanket. Her face, usually marked by that mischievous smile, is now completely serene. Mia, the woman who drinks tequila like it’s water and threatens people’s lives without blinking, is now sleeping on the floor, holding a teddy bear like a child.

Something inside me softens. For a second, the chaos of the day fades away. The sight of her like this—vulnerable, innocent even—makes me forget the whirlwind my life has become since Mia entered it.

She looks small and delicate, like all that bold energy and brashness is just a mask—something that suddenly feels so obvious now.

I approach slowly, trying to remain silent. The peaceful expression on her face is... cute, and as much as I don’t want to admit it, it moves me. A part of me wants her to stay like this—calm, out of danger, and away from the shit in the world.

"Hey, Mia..." I whisper, gently trying to wake her. But she doesn’t stir. The bear is pressed against her chest, and the way she’s snuggled against it makes me think she must have exhausted herself somehow. But how? She was so full of energy, so excited about the cat and the Mickey Mouse clothes, and now, suddenly, she’s asleep, like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

Something’s not right.

I kneel down beside her, running my hand gently down her arm, hoping she’ll react. Nothing. She just mumbles something incomprehensible and snuggles deeper into the bear. What the hell?

I decide the best thing to do is get her out of here, so I carefully slide my arms underneath her, one over her shoulder and the other under her legs. She’s light, almost weightless.

As I lift her, the giant bear comes with her, and she sighs softly in my arms as if she’s at peace.

The soft scent of her shampoo invades my senses, and I try to ignore the wave of warmth that floods through me at the feeling of her so close.

Her body is small, delicate, and yet it’s like she’s made of steel inside.

I walk slowly through the store with Mia still asleep in my arms.

Fuck, why is my chest tight like this? I can’t be feeling anything for her.

This doesn’t make sense.

I’m not that guy. I don’t date. I don’t get attached.

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