Page 19 of Always You
Good, I want her to feel the rawness, the pain searing every part of her.
I never treated Mila badly. I’m not the same person. She changed me when she left me, when I was down, when I needed her. The woman I loved sliced and ripped open my heart, molding me into being bitter and cold. Where was she when I needed her during my recovery? She left me, disposed of me like a dead carcass on the side of the road.
* * *
My truck peels out of my driveway as I make my way to my mom’s for my weekly family dinner. Her rule is to have her sons meet for dinner once a week. My mom has been my superhero taking care of me during my sickness. When Mila left me with a broken heart, Mom was there to pick the pieces up. I scrutinize the upscale neighborhood my mom lives in, I can’t help but notice it’s beautiful. Her home fits right in. California homes are overly expensive, but she managed to save up money to buy her dream home.
“Knock, Knock,” I shout as I walk in.
My brother Santiago and the youngest of us Mark is sitting at the table drinking a beer. Mark is three years younger than me.
“Mmm, smells good, Mom.”
She moves herself around from the kitchen sink to kiss my cheek.
“Hi, honey. How’s the restaurant?”
“Going good, busy, like always. I had to fill in yesterday, had some call-ins, the usual. I need to hire more people.”
She nods.
“If you need help, I could help you out with payroll. I have weekends off.” Her brown eyes beam with hope.
“Thanks, Mom, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good, honey, dinner’s ready. Let’s eat.”
We all sit at the table and eat dinner. Mom prepared us spaghetti, freshly baked bread sticks, and a side salad. My favorite. Mark talks about his classes. He is attending the university for computer science. Mark’s the quiet one in the family. Today he’s rather talkative, Maybe it’s the beer he’s drinking. Mark’s not of age to drink, but the fucker drinks now and then. He carries a fake ID, which Santiago gifted him. At his age, we all carried a fake ID to get into bars and clubs.
“Mark, you better be passing those classes. I’m not paying so you can flunk out.” My mom glares as she chews on her breadstick.
“I know, Mom. And I’m passing,” he grumbles.
She nods as she turns to look at me.
“Santiago told me Mila is back in town.” Her voice grate’s, her nostrils flare.
I turn to my brother, giving him a what the fuck look. I turn back to my mom, frowning with worry. “Yeah, I saw her the other day.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Stay away from her, Dominic. She’s trouble and she walked out on you. You were a burden to her. She said it herself. Do you not remember?” Mom stands up, placing dishes in the sink.
She’s quiet for a split second.
“You’re engaged, and Samantha is wonderful, beautiful and she loves you. She’s perfect for you.” Her words hit me like a tidal wave.
Apparently, my heart and dick are not getting the memo. I want to roll my eyes. Samantha is a pain in my ass. Too fucking needy. Samantha’s parents do everything for her. She grew up with a silver spoon. But she’s right, Mila is not good for me. A woman that leaves you when you’re sick, at your worst, needs to be forgotten. Samantha’s been pleasantly good to me.
“Yeah, Mom, I know, and I don’t plan on talking to Mila.” Which is a lie; she’s all I think about, more than anything I deserve answers. I want to kiss her, feel her, hold her in my arms. It pisses me off she gets under my skin. Thinking about her arouses me.
“She’s with someone else, Mom. Could be her husband, nothing to worry about,” Santiago claims, wiping his face with a smirk.
Jealousy funnels into my heart. The image of her married kills me. I’ll rip him apart.
“That’s good to hear. See, Dominic, she moved on, honey, therefore Samantha is good for you. She will care for you. What if your cancer returns? Samantha will be there for you.” She takes a drink of iced tea. “The day I met Mila I knew she was not good for you. A mother knows, Dominic. Look how she left you. She’s an orphan with no sense of direction.”
My insides cave with pain. I was there the night she lost her father. The night I took her to the beach and made love to her.
I perch above her windowsill, my heart racing as I wait for her to appear. She finally emerges, her face aglow with excitement. I open my arms and help her to the ground, then load up a bundle of blankets. We head out to our spot, a huge rock at the beach. It's a school night. I’ve been dying to see her; we don't attend the same school. I lay out the blankets. The place is privately hidden from bystanders seeing us—the rock covers up anyone who would pass by. The beach is empty, just us, and the sound of the waves. It’s a full moon tonight, the bright silver light spills across the water. Mila sprawls herself on the blanket, her hands behind her head. She looks up at the stars twinkling in the night sky. I’ve been waiting all day to see her.
