40. Mia
Chapter forty
Mia
“You looked so comfortable up there today, Mia. I wish you could have seen yourself. You looked happy,” Will says over dinner. A blush climbs my cheeks, and a hot spark of want shoots through me. He speaks gently. “You know, you deal with change much better than you give yourself credit for. A lot has happened in the last few months, and you’re thriving.”
My blush must be unmistakable now. This is what I want in a relationship—someone who will build me up, who isn’t afraid of my successes. Who, like my dad does for Mum, doesn't step in and take over. It’s childish, but I desperately need reassurance that I’m doing okay.
I nod to a couple by the door. “They’re on their anniversary. She’s pissed he brought her here during the busy season. She wanted to go somewhere tropical, and now she’s stuck at a ski resort in the middle of winter.”
Will glances over his shoulder, careful not to look too obvious. A happy-looking couple are sipping out of glasses of wine, the man with a big smile on his face.
He nods toward another couple. “They’ve left their kids at home, told them they’re going to Daddy’s work event. The kids have no idea they’re snowboarding without them, and they’ve made a pact to never, ever spill the beans.” My face explodes with a grin as I scan the room to look for other victims.
“The couple who just walked in—not a proper couple at all.” I rest both elbows on the table. “He’s a private investigator, and her husband is trying to catch her cheating.”
“Little does the husband know—” Will interrupts, “—his money is being wasted. She wasn’t cheating before, but now she’s met this private investigator, she’s cheating with him.”
A snort escapes, and I cover my mouth and fake a cough to stifle my giggles. I take a sip of water, then wipe the tears from my eyes. “God, I love this game.” I pause, looking at Will as if I’m seeing him for the first time. “You know, you’re the only person who will play this with me. Everyone else thinks it’s silly.”
Will leans back, crossing his arms. Is he jealous that I’ve tried to play this game with someone else? “You’re the only one I want to play that game with, Will,” I say softly, and watch him relax. I love that my words can have that impact on him. What I said is true, though. I can’t imagine doing this—any of this—with someone else. All I want is Will. How could I have done this all without him? He is there, always there, and knows what I need to take the next step.
Once we drain our glasses, I invite Will up to my room. We settle on the couch in my suite, looking over the mountain. The chairlift has lights on each tower, casting a pretty glow snaking its way up the peak. The jiggling of Will’s leg gently shakes the couch.
I turn away from the window, pressing my back against the arm of the couch and hugging my knees, facing Will.
“I’ve been thinking about the relationship thing,” I say, my voice quiet, but calm. Confident. He told me I need to make the next move, and I’m ready. “You’ve been so patient, and I know it takes me forever to make a decision. But I want this, Will. I want us. I want you.” I reach over, offering my hand. He takes it in his, and a weight lifts off my chest, a stupid smile spreading across my face.
“Okay. Let’s do this,” he says, sliding closer to me. He pulls me into him, speaking into my hair. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, Mia.”
I smile into his neck, and draw back to kiss him. He leans back, pulling me on top of him. I can’t believe it. I’ve done it. I’ve been brave. I rest my hands on either side of his face, pushing myself back up into a sitting position. We rearrange ourselves, my arms wrapped around his waist, snuggled into his side, my legs tossed over his. It feels like home.
“This—us, it works so well, don’t you think?” I say, smiling up at him.
He kisses me on the forehead, then tilts my chin toward him. “I could get used to this, Limpet.”
“You’re the only person who’s given me confidence that I could do this.” I wave my hand around, gesturing to the room. “I want to do this, all of this with you.”
He doesn’t say anything. He looks confused, so I explain. “I want you to advise Starlight Resorts—me—full time. I’ll pay you, of course, and make sure it’s worth your time. I know you’ve got other clients, so we can work around how you can phase them out over time and everything,” I say. “And we can travel together as much as you’re willing to come.” I can imagine it now—romantic trips to mountain destinations—for work, of course, but with him there too. Maybe that private jet will be worth it after all, now there are two of us.
He edges away, and I give him a big squeeze. I hope he doesn’t think I meant I wouldn’t pay him. I explain I’ll pay him whatever his rate is, and travel allowances, of course.
“Mia,” he interrupts. “Mia, just wait, hold on a second.” He holds up his hand. “I don’t want that.” He opens his mouth but I can’t bear to hear him say the words.
“You don’t want it?” I’m already spiraling. He doesn’t want me? He wanted me to make the next move, to be sure what I wanted. Now he doesn’t want me?
“I don’t—I don’t necessarily want to work together—be hired by you…” He takes one look at my face and trails off, clenching his jaw. “Mia, look, this is a big step. I need to think about this.”
A tear trails down my cheek before I can stop it. He reaches out to brush it away, but I slap it away myself. I sniff. “Okay, yes, sure.” I pull my legs back and shift into the corner of the couch. “That’s a good idea, you need to think about things, of course. It’s a big change, I understand.” I laugh, a hollow, brittle, laugh. I wonder if it sounds heartbroken to him, too.
I look for an escape before realizing this is my room. There is no escape. I head to the window instead.
“Mia. I don’t mean it like that. Working together is a big step. All that stuff I said the other day on the plane, I’m still worried about that.” He stands, taking a few steps toward me, then I hear him pause. Sure, now he’s trying to let me down gently.
I sniff again, then waive my hand to my side dismissively. “Yes, of course you are. I should have been more tactful in how I mentioned it.”
I’m facing the window, looking out at the night. The ribbon of light from the chairlift now looks like an escape, rather than the beautiful opportunity it did just a few moments ago. I try to hide my shaking shoulders, the tears streaming down my face. That I’m broken.
“How about we pause this conversation for tonight, and we talk about what we do about working together tomorrow?” he says. “Let’s meet for breakfast and we can talk through some options.”
“Alright then. Goodnight, Will.”
I watch his reflection in the window. He hovers by the couch, as if there’s more he wants to say. What more could there possibly be to say? I put myself out there, I was brave, I offered him my heart. And he doesn’t want it.
“Goodnight, Will.” My voice is sharper this time, a dismissal.
The second the door clicks behind him, the tears come quickly, followed by loud, uncontrolled sobs. God, how stupid have I been? This is why I shouldn’t have taken a chance. And if things had turned out this badly with Will, is this how the resorts would turn out too? I knew I should have stayed at my job, not taken the risk on these stupid resorts, not taken the risk on Will. I knew it. I’m stupid for letting him let me believe I can make—any of this; the job, the relationship; everything—this work. What am I going to do now? This isn’t something I can brush over and pretend everything is fine next week. This is exactly what I had been worried would happen. That we’d try the relationship thing, not be able to make it work, and screw up our friendship and our friend group. And for what? What was the point of any of this?
I fall back onto the bed. Being heartbroken here, the middle of nowhere in Italy, with not one person around I can call for comfort is insult to injury. The only person I want to comfort me is the reason I am broken. And it’s late here, far too late to call Steph or Chloe. And even if I could call, Chloe is avoiding me.
How has my life gone from so full of hope to this in, what, just a few hours? I sniff, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. Tears spill from my eyes and run down the side of my cheeks, wetting the hair tucked behind my ears as a stare at the ceiling.
A plan. I need a plan. I drag myself out of bed to the desk and pull a notepad and pen out of the drawer. A list will help. A list always helps.
Fifteen minutes later, I have ugly streaks of dried tears running down my face, my nose is raw from wiping it, and I’m sure my eyes are swollen and look awful too. But I have a plan. I text Abigail, asking her to move forward my trip to the resort in New Zealand to the day after tomorrow. I tell her I’ll go alone. I can’t face sitting on a plane for twenty-four hours and putting on a brave face for her. I need space.
Not just going home—getting out of London, putting some physical distance between me and Will, that’s what I need to get some perspective. God, even thinking about him sends a bolt of physical pain through my chest. I’ve been heartbroken before—for a while after Joel and I split I thought things would never be the same, but things between us had been rough toward the end, the heartbreak was very quickly replaced with relief and an overwhelming sense of freedom. Besides, it had helped that I didn’t need to see the guy if I didn’t want to. Will, on the other hand, is different. Will has been always different. I don’t know whether I can separate my life from him. How can I not be friends with Will?
The only thing I know right now is that I don’t want to.