Playing the Game

34. Completing the Mia Puzzle

Finally, Tommy turns back to face me. "Go ahead," he says, voice reluctant, eyes full of worry. It looks like he's got something to add, but he doesn't say anything else. He just tips his chin toward the back door, giving me all the permission I need to hightail it out of here.

Outside, the cool air is a relief to the burning tension I just escaped inside the house. My eyes dart all over the backyard in search of Mia, finding her quickly, and the sight has my heart plummeting to the ground.

She's laying in the grass outside of a little white playhouse and my feet carry me straight to her, eating the distance between us with a tunnel vision for only her.

When I sit down beside her, leaning against the playhouse, she immediately jolts up. Glancing over at me, her watery eyes meet mine, looking shocked and happy at the same time, a sigh of relief easing the tightness in her shoulders.

I reach for her and she scoots in close to me, letting me wrap her up in my arms. All I can think about is making the tears stop, doing anything I can to make her comfortable and happy again. The day was perfect until only minutes ago. I want that back for her.

I'll do anything to see her smile again.

My hand glides up and down Mia's arm, creating friction to keep her warm now that the temperature has dropped. I feel every deep breath she takes. They fall in sync with mine, and a few minutes pass as we sit like this in silence. The kind of silence I think she needs, so I don't press her for conversation. I know she'll speak up when she's ready.

When that moment comes, her voice is soft and calm. "How'd you get past Tommy?"

"Very carefully," I answer, enjoying the way her body vibrates against mine with a soft laugh. My heart does a break dance in my chest. "I've never seen that guy as a scary person until tonight."

"He's harmless," she mutters and waves it off as she sits up, freeing herself from the tightness of my grip but keeping herself close to me.

When I reach for her hand, she lets me take it and gives mine a squeeze. With another deep breath, she looks behind us at the playhouse we're leaned up against.

"He made this for my fifth birthday," she says softly, lost in a memory as she runs her free hand along the white wooden planks.

The weather has worn them down, time has peeled the paint. But something tells me that Mia's seeing it with the same eyes of her five year old self. I can see it in the hint of a smile on her lips, the wonder written all over her face.

"It was before he and my mom even started dating," she goes on, her gaze drifting up to mine. "He always says they built it together, but I'm pretty sure my mom probably just sat there staring at his muscles the whole time."

"Sounds like my parents," I offer with a smile, taking another look at the playhouse and checking the craftsmanship. It looks good, well-built and sturdy. I reach up and rap my knuckles against the side of it a few times for good measure, satisfied with the construction. "This thing is pretty cool."

"Yeah, it is," Mia softly agrees. "I used to spend hours in here. Playing house and having tea parties. Tommy would even squeeze in and join me sometimes. It was my most favorite thing when I was younger, this little house that was all mine, and I created some of my best memories in it after we moved to California. But it also holds one of my worst memories..." Her words trail off and she shakes her head in frustration before adding, "I can't believe she wants me to go see him."

The break in her voice has me pulling her into my lap, desperate to comfort her, and she comes without hesitation, curling up and letting me hold her.

My chest is aching with the need to fix this. I can't stand seeing her so upset, and my mind is still reeling from the conversation I just heard inside. It's safe to say that a few more pieces of the puzzle have been thrown onto the table, and I can only hope Mia feels safe enough right now to help me put it together.