Page 97 of Prove Me Wrong
Thankfully, Sinnett doesn’t laugh at me. Instead, he murmurs, “She needs to figure things out first, and the last thing you want to do is pressure her. She’ll just push you away for good.”
Chin dipping, I groan into my hand, not liking his answer. “I know, and I never want to pressure her. I’ve always been patient with her.”
“Good,” is all Sinnett says before I hear people shouting in the background and whistles blowing. “Look, man, I have to go, but I know she’ll come around soon. Just be patient with her.”
“Thanks.”
Hanging up, I toss my phone on the couch and glance at Jade sleeping, curled up, eyes shut and nostrils flaring slowly. My heart continues to thump, blood rushing to my ears as I sit in quietness. I feel like I have some clarity after that call, like a sprig of hope is growing, but it’s not enough to calm down my thoughts.
I want her back, right here with me. I miss the way I held her, and her face when I kissed her.
I’m not going to stop until Mia is back in my arms for good.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
MIA
Do you ever feel like you’re the odd one out when you’re alone with your parents? Because that’s exactly how I’m feeling right now.
Sitting at the table, fork playing with my uneaten food, chin dipped to avoid their gazes, I listen to my parents talk. They understand each other. They know that their lives revolve around their businesses and not their children. So why do I need to be here? Honestly, I have no idea.
Sinnett is at training tonight, leaving me alone with these two, who are carrying on about the traffic in the city. That’s something I haven’t missed. The traffic is awful here, but I don’t voice my opinion. Instead, I push peas around my plate, my mind drifting to the many times that Jade had them stuck to her mouth, or when she’d drop them on the floor. She’s not a picky eater, but more of a playful one.
My chest starts aching again, and I give my head another quick shake, pushing the memory out of my brain. All it does is remind me of Noah, and how I feel as though I’ll never be able to trust him again.
“Don’t even get me started on George Street.” Mum sighs, and I roll my eyes, not at all interested in their conversation. I’d much rather be watching Sinnett’s practice than be sitting here.
Stomach gurgling loudly, interrupting their conversation. Mum looks at me, her green-blue eyes like my brother’s, only a shade or two deeper,stare into mine. She’s beautiful for her age. I can see why Dad fell for her. A promising lawyer, smart, pretty, and from a good family. Dad was a rugby star back in the day and now commentates on games. It made sense for them to fall in love.
Noah is an athlete while also being a single dad. And his mum was right about me. A girl who lives with her grandma and hardly has money. It doesn’t make sense for us to be together. It doesn’t feel like it should work, but?—
“Mia, are you not hungry?” Mum’s words cut through my thoughts.
Blinking at her, I shake my head. “Not really,” I answer quietly.
“I think your stomach says otherwise. Eat up so that I can clean.”
My gaze falls to their polished off plates, knowing that they’ve been waiting for me to finish this whole time.
Putting my fork down, I lean back in the stiff chair. “I’m done.”
I feel their eyes on me, but I don’t look up. I tuck my chin into my chest, eyes closing. I want to shut out the whole world right now because all I can think about is Noah, and Jade, and this job, and Ryan, and Gran… it’s like there’s a tornado inside my skull.
“You haven’t even touched it, Mia,” Mum huffs out, and it’s like another stab to my chest. “Why do I even bother?”
The feelings rise again, my anxiety causing my pulse to race as my fingers start shaking. Mum doesn’t understand the pressure I’m holding onto. The secrets buried beneath my skin, clawing their way out. I feel the hot, sticky bile pressing in my throat, burning like lava. I push my chair out and dash to the bathroom, just in time to let out the small amount of contents in my stomach. Shoulders trembling, skin pebbling, tears drip from my eyes as I gag into the bowl. The fire sensation keeps burning until I hear her behind me.
“Mia.”
Her hands are on me, pulling back my hair. I cling to the porcelain, mouth vibrating as nothing else comes up.
“Mia, are you sick?” Her words sound gentler now.
I ease back into her hands, missing the feeling of their warmth, rubbing circles on my back. I flush the toilet before getting up on shaky legs and rinsing my face. Splashes of cold water wake me up, making my nerves vivacious. Mum hands me a towel to dry myself off.
Standing at the sink, she stares at me through the mirror. The worry etched into her striking features gives me a sense of relief. I hate that just the idea of opening up to her makes me sick, but I need to. I can’t keep holding onto everything much longer. “Mum.”
“Mia, I think you should rest.” Her hand touches my arm. Through the mirror, I see her gaze drop to the back of my arm, reading the ink sprawled into my skin.
