Chapter 26
thank you for being you
MIA
November
For the first time in weeks, I have an entire day to myself.
Well, kind of. I don’t have class, and I’m not scheduled to work at Luigi’s.
It’s a rare kind of day. I enjoy it all, really—meeting new people at the diner, seeing my friends, working on designs.
I’ve even started freelancing and drawing character art.
I’m earning money, which is a huge plus for my plans to spend at least part of the summer in Italy.
The catch? I’m exhausted. All the time. And I don’t see Dominic enough. He’s at Allan’s shop all day, and then he and Miles spend their evenings working on their very first custom bike. As proud as I am of his talent, and as happy as I am that they’re making their dreams come true, I miss him.
Everyone wants me to stop and take a breath, to quit my job at Luigi’s or take fewer commissions from the group of authors I’ve been illustrating for. Dad, Matt, Dom, and even Allan insist I’m working too hard, and they’ve all offered to give me money, but there’s no way I’ll take it.
Maybe it’s pride that has me pushing myself like this. Maybe it’s stupidity. I just don’t want to take the easy way out. I never have. All my life, Mom has reminded me nothing is ever given freely. Approval and respect are earned, and so is love.
With her, everything is a transaction. When I was a kid, if I was good, she’d take me for ice cream.
If I was quiet, she’d take me shopping. But if I messed up?
Got into a little mischief? I would end up on the receiving end of her scorn.
Being treated poorly while my sibling could do no wrong was hard, especially because I love my brother so much.
I’ve never resented him for it, but I can’t say the same about Mom.
God, I had such high hopes for our relationship when I returned, but she quickly fell back into the pattern of constantly blaming and criticizing me. And after the truth about my relationship with Dom came out? I no longer have the motivation to make my relationship with Mom work.
Instead, I work too much. I drag myself out of bed even on days my body begs me to stop.
Because I can’t stop now. Every step forward, every good grade, every buck I earn—it’s proof I can stand on my own two feet, that I don’t need to beg for her love or her approval to be happy.
That’s also why I don’t let anyone help me.
The last thing I want is to give her my weakness on a silver platter, to admit she was right.
Hell no. I’d never give her that power.
If I wasn’t so desperate to visit my dad, I’d use my savings for a deposit on an apartment like Dominic did.
I’m halfway through outlining my game design project when my bedroom door opens behind me. The sound halts my thoughts, and I look over my shoulder.
Speak of the devil. Mom’s here, and the look on her face tells me everything I need to know. Nothing good will come of this.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Mrs. Ackerman saw you with Dominic.”
“Hi to you too, Mom,” I quip, tamping down the hurt threatening to bloom inside me. “But I’m a little busy at the moment, so we’ll have to talk later.”
“Cut the bullshit, Mia.” She steps into the room and slams the door behind her. “The neighbor saw you and Dom at Luigi’s,” she hisses. “She stopped me in the store today and asked if I knew about you two. About my daughter messing around with her stepbrother.”
And there she is, as bitter as always.
I keep silent, and she takes it as an invitation to continue. “I told you what people would say. I warned you everyone would think we’re a dysfunctional family,” she snaps. “You’ve made us look like a joke!”
I drop my head back and stare up at the ceiling. I’m not even angry anymore, just disappointed. “I didn’t make you look like anything,” I say. “You care too much about the opinions of others. It’s wrong.”
She lets out a humorless laugh. “You can’t even take accountability. That just proves you’re still a child. You’re ruining this family’s name. Do you understand that?”
Mom goes on, rambling about perception, about judgment, about my ungratefulness, about how hard she worked to “build a good life” and how Dominic and I are dismantling it.
With every word she spits my way, I break a little more on the inside. I used to think if I was good enough—if I got good grades, stayed quiet, never asked for too much—she’d look at me the way she looks at Matt.
I know better now. A parent’s love is supposed to be given freely.
She’s never given me hers without expecting something in return.
Fuck, why did it take me so long to understand that? If the truth had clicked sooner, maybe I would’ve chosen to live in the dorms. I could’ve kept my distance from her and her fucking rules.
Dammit. I fucked up yet again.
When she finally leaves, still muttering about how I’ve humiliated her, I close my sketchbook, toss it into my backpack along with some clothes, and leave.
I need Dominic.
Rather than knock, I take the spare key from my backpack and unlock the door. The lights are off, but the glow of the TV illuminates the space, so I step inside and quietly lock the door.
I turn and instantly find him. He’s lounging on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants.
My heart clenches. God, he’s so good looking. I’ll never get tired of admiring him, even when his face is etched with exhaustion and his eyes are drooping, like they are now.
He doesn’t notice me right away, not until I drop my backpack on the floor with a thud.
At the sound, he sits up straight and locks eyes with me, his features softening. “Hey. What a nice surprise.”
I drag my feet to the couch, tossing my leather jacket aside on the way.
He spreads his arms for me, and I gladly lower myself to his lap and relish the way he pulls me into his chest. I relax in his embrace, inhaling deeply.
He still smokes, and while it may be a turnoff for some, the scent of tobacco mixed with his laundry detergent is as comforting as a hug.
“I missed you,” he murmurs, running his hand up and down my back.
“I missed you too.” I nuzzle into his neck. “Can I stay?”
“Of course.”
He leans back, tugging me along with him. Then, he sighs, resting his chin on top of my head. His heartbeat is slow and steady, and the rhythm sends comfort washing over me.
“Want to watch something before bed?” he asks quietly.
“We can try.” I giggle into his warm skin. “I can’t promise I’ll stay awake.”
“I’m used to it.” His laughter reverberates through my body. “Watching TV while you snore beside me has become my new normal.”
I push myself away from his chest and glare. “I do not snore.”
“You do.” He chuckles. “You also talk in your sleep.”
My jaw drops open. “No.”
“Yes, but you talk about me every time, so I’m not complaining.”
I roll my eyes, nestling back into his arms. “Jesus, your ego is enormous.”
“Not just my ego,” he teases, squeezing me tighter.
“Shut up.” I smack his chest lightly.
He chuckles, and the sound soothes me from the inside out.
This is exactly why I’m here.
He is my home; that’s all there is to it.
The next morning, I wake up with Dominic curved around my back, the heat of him soaking into me. Last night, he put on Mystic River, but I don’t think I made it more than a few minutes into the movie before I nodded off.
I ease out of his embrace and turn to look at him. When I came back to Monterey, his hair was buzzed. Now, it’s grown out, even a little shaggy. It looks good. So does the stubble on his sharp jawline.
Asleep like this, he looks so peaceful, so mine. My heart squeezes in my chest.
I’ve never had to act around Dominic. I’ve never had to shape myself into something small and quiet and unassuming. Even when I was a little girl, always tagging along with him and Matt and annoying the life out of them, he accepted me the way I was.
With him, I’ve always felt like I’m enough. Not once, even when he was acting like an asshole, did he ever tell me I needed to change.
In the light of day, it’s hard to care what my mom thinks. I no longer have the energy to fight for a love she won’t give me unless it’s on her terms.
I’m tired of chasing my childhood fantasies. If Mom can’t love me the way she loves Matt, that’s not my fault.
I’m done.
Relief floods me as I press my face into the crook of Dominic’s neck and inhale his scent. Without opening his eyes, he pulls me tightly to his chest.
“Thank you for being you,” I whisper against his skin.
And then, I close my eyes and allow myself to doze off again.