Chapter Twelve
MARINA
PRESENT
I angrily dump two cups of flour into my mixing bowl, picking up my spatula and folding it through the wet mixture.
I rip open the small packet of chocolate chips and tip them in haphazardly, a few rogue pieces scattering across my kitchen countertop and onto the floor.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I curse as my foot lands on the chocolate, smooshing it into the wooden floor.
My phone buzzes on the countertop, sending me into sensory overload as I hop around my tiny kitchen trying to wipe the chocolate from the bottom of my foot. Why is nothing going my way today?
I debate letting it ring, but when Rosalie’s name flashes on my screen, I hit accept instead.
“Hi!” she sings through the phone.
“You are way too cheery on a regular basis,” I say, throwing the cloth I just used on my foot into my room, aiming for the washing basket.
“What's up your ass today?” she says.
“Miles motherfucking Beckett. ”
“ What ?” she asks. “Miles? Like that Miles?”
“Yes, that Miles,” I groan as I lay baking paper on a tray.
I hear a sharp crunch before she’s mumbling into the phone. “Please elaborate.”
I let out a sigh as I roll the cookie dough in between my palms, before placing the small ball on the tray. “You remember how I told you about Isla? Caio’s fiancé?”
“Yeah. Wait, wasn’t the wedding last week?”
“Yup.” I roll out another cookie.
“Oh, how was it?” she asks, her tone excited.
“Well, Miles was there.” I slap down the dough onto the tray with a little more force than necessary, but I can't get this spark of anger out of my system.
“Again,” she says. “I’m going to need you to elaborate.”
“He’s Isla's brother.”
It’s silent on the other end of the line, and I have to check to see that the call is still active. “Let me get this straight,” she says after a while. “Miles, the guy who broke your heart, is related to one of your best friends?”
“Yup,” I say again.
“Oh, that’s fucked up.”
“Tell me about it.” I wrench open the oven door, sliding the first tray of cookies in before I lean back against the counter.
“How are you feeling?” she asks.
“Pissed.”
“Fair,” she says.
I pick up my phone and walk the two steps it takes me to reach my couch, flopping down and resting my phone on my chest. “He cornered me in the girl’s bathroom because he wanted to talk to me.”
“Oh my god,” she breathes. “What did he say?”
“I didn’t stick around to find out. I had this half assed go at him and then stormed off. I’m still angry about it.” I can't shake off the feeling that Miles left on my skin.
Seeing him again, hearing his voice, and smelling his cologne just took me straight back in time. Back to that summer and all of the feelings I had. I think I loved him back then, and I think that’s what makes everything worse.
“I mean I would’ve?—”
I sit up. “And then he asked me to dance with him! Like why would I dance with him?”
“Okay, Marina,” Rosie’s got her serious voice on, and it makes me wish she were in front of me instead of hours away. She lives in Rome now, so we see each other even less than we used to. “Take a breath.”
I lay back, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I do it once more, focusing on the feeling of the oxygen filling my lungs before releasing it once again.
“What are you feeling?” she asks quietly. “I know what you went through back then, it can’t be easy to see him again.”
“It was so…conflicting, Rosie,” I say, my voice no more than a whisper. “I wanted to deck him, and simultaneously I almost wanted to say yes when he asked me to dance with him.”
“Aw, babe,” she sighs, her voice laced with sympathy.
“I went back and forth all night, my better judgement fighting with my heart. I’m upset, and I'm angry, and I'm still hurt. But god, I miss the way he used to make me feel.”
“Your relationship with him was a lot in a short period of time, I don’t blame you for feeling conflicted.”
I don’t want to be conflicted. I want to be strong in my feelings, but I don’t know how, so I just cling to the emotion that doesn’t fade. The anger.
“I keep going back to that night,” I say. “That night when I realized he really wasn’t coming back.” Rosie is quiet, letting me talk without fear of judgement. “Because as soon as I think about all the good things he used to make me feel, those memories follow straight after.”
I feel my eyes flooding with tears, my emotions spilling over the edge. “Because no matter how much I loved him, he didn’t love me enough to stay. And not even that," I add. “But he didn’t even care enough to say goodbye.” I try to steady my breathing but I can't.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Rosie pipes up. “No matter the way that fuckhead treated you, you are enough Marina. You are worthy of someone who will give you the world on a silver platter.”
I screw my eyes shut, letting the tears slip down my face before I shake my head.
“It’s fine,” I say, forcefully wiping them away.
“As far as I know, I'm not going to see him anytime soon.
So I just need to get my shit together. Maybe I'll go to one of those rage rooms or something," I say. “Let it all out.”
“Well, you know I'm only a call away if you ever need anything. And I mean anything, Marina." I nod even though she can’t see me.
“I love you so much,” I say, my voice wobbly. “And I miss you.”
“I love you too, my girl.”
I let out another breath, feeling a release of pressure after just talking to Rosalie. The smell of something burning quickly invades my nostrils.
“Oh fuck! My cookies!”