29 Goodbye Party
Someone knocks on the door. I wipe my tears quickly and pull the blanket over my head.
"Mia?" Isla says, and I don't move. She opens the door, silently watching me. Then she approaches me and sits next to me on the bed. "I know you're awake." She sits in silence and puts her hand on my shoulder. "Please get up. It's been a week. I'm worried about you."
I wipe my tears and toss the blanket to my side. Then I slowly turn around to face Isla. "I'm sorry," I say in a low tone.
"What happened?"
"I-I can't... I'm not..." My tears start running down my face again, and she gets closer to me to hug me, but I get back.
She immediately moves back with a worried look on her face. "I'm here for you anytime you want. You know that, right?" She says, and I nod. "I'm really worried about you. Please talk to someone if you're not comfortable with me. Maybe a stranger. A therapist?"
"I will."
"What is that?" she says, trying to take a look at my neck.
"What?"
"The bruises on your neck."
I haven't seen myself in the mirror, and I don't know how bad the bruises look. My hands immediately rise to cover my neck.
"Who hurt you?" Isla asks as I still avoid looking at her. "Who did this to you, Mia?" she pushes, and I say nothing. "That looks serious!"
"Don't," I beg her. "Please. J-Just don't push it. I'm fine."
"You're not fine!" she says. "I'm canceling the birthday party!"
I wipe my face. "Shit." I try to look for my phone on my bed but can't find it. "What day is it?"
"August second," Isla says.
"Fuck. I forgot about that."
"We're not doing it!"
"Yes, we are. Smith's been through a lot. He needs this."
"You're not okay."
"I'm fine. I'll be fine."
"Mia. He doesn't need a birthday party. He's a grown man. He'll be okay."
"I swear I'm fine. Okay? I'll be fine. I'll talk to a therapist, I promise you. Everything's fine."
Reassuring Isla that I'm fine is hard. I take a hot shower to ease my muscles. I have to wear a turtleneck to hide the bruises on my neck. Then I join Isla for meals. She makes sure I do everything I need to do to recover sooner.
I try to talk to people and be as normal as I can. The hard part is the nights. I can't close my eyes without dreaming of the moment Bill was choking me. I want to talk to a shrink, but how do I tell them I almost committed murder? How do I describe the trauma of a man choking me to death? Worst of all, how do I tell them I did such an irresponsible, dangerous thing while pregnant? How can I let these words out of my mouth when I'm not ready to hear them myself?
Sleepless nights pass, and I spend days with Zoey's instructions. Not for me, but for my baby. Meditation, vitamin pills, exercise, and drinking a lot of water. I talk to an online therapist by chatting with them. I don't tell them everything that's happened with specific details. They help me regulate my breathing and thoughts.
The day of the party comes. We set the decorations, and I occupy myself with work so I don't fall into my traumatic memories again. I fix my dress as I look at myself in the mirror. The bruises have faded after weeks, but a red line has appeared after the healing, and I have to cover it with a scarf.
Isla shows up. "Hey. You ready?" She asks me.
I nod and join her. The guests arrive and dance to the music. Isla approaches the newcomers and greets them. Then she shows them where the appetizers and drinks are and leaves to greet others.
Zoey looks stunning in her white dress, but I can't even open my mouth to compliment her. I have lost the will to talk. "Are you okay?" She says when she sees me.
"Yes," I answer without looking her in the eyes.
"We haven't seen each other in so long. We just kept talking on the phone."
"I know."
"Did something happen?"
"No."
"Let's take a picture," Isla says, unlocking her phone to take a picture.
"Ladies, let me help," a man says, and before I can look at his face, I smell an aromatic scent from him. I glance up to look at him. His black tuxedo is a perfect match for his body.
"Oliver?" Isla asks, almost not recognizing him with his clean hairstyle.
"Hey," he says with a smile.
"You look... Gorgeous!" Isla says.
"I used to look like this all the time."
"And we always loved watching you."
"Look at the camera!" Smith says, changing the subject. "Say cheese." Then he gets closer. "Selfie time."
As he takes pictures of us, my attention falls to a different place, where I see a glimpse of Phil walking in. "Your dad's here," Isla says to Zoey.
"Did you invite him?" Zoey asks me. I shake my head.
"How is he your dad, anyway?" Isla asks.
"Isla!" I scold her.
"What? I'm just curious!" She says. Zoey hesitates to answer, so Isla continues. "My dad left when I was five 'cause my mom fucked his brother," she says. Zoey exchanges a shocked look with me. "Quite Cersei Lannister, my mom was. Now you tell me."
Zoey breathes deeply. "Um... my parents... they—um... they died in a car accident when I was eight."
"I'm so sorry," I say and pat her back.
"My uncle was only sixteen, and he raised me with the help of my grans."
"He's your uncle?" Isla asks.
"Yeah," she nods. "The 'dad' label got stuck with him since he really was a dad to me."
"Wow. My uncle fucked my mom, and yours raised you," Isla says, and her attention gets drawn to someone's presence. "Alicia!" she calls the girl that has just approached her. "Guys, meet Alicia." She introduces her friend to us. I slowly step back and try to get away from them. But Phil catches me off guard, standing in front of me.
"Phil Pearson. Are you here to threaten me again?" I ask him, all my rage ready to be taken out on him. He says nothing. "Did you find out that I sucked on my mom's breast a little too hard when I was a baby?"
He moves his hand in front of me, offering to dance. I stare at him. "Come on," he says.
"No, thank you."
"Aren't you a little too hard on me?"
"Fuck you."
His mouth opens in shock.
"Yeah. I just said that," I say. "You're too hard on me. I'm not your daughter's boyfriend. You don't get to act overprotective and bossy. You don't get to invade my life. I'm done proving that I mean no harm to her."
"You had that bottled up, didn't you?"
"I have a whole life bottled up since childhood. You wouldn't want me to take it out on ya."
"So you're just angry at everyone."
I roll my eyes at him. "Says the man who has a frown stamped on his face. Look. We don't have to get along. From now on, you're just an acquaintance to me. I won't treat you like Zoey's dad."
"Won't you have a dance with this acquaintance?"
I breathe deeply and want to reject him again, but he has already asked twice. So, I take his hand reluctantly. He moves his other hand on my back and starts swaying with me. I feel irritated immediately. I can't tolerate others touching me, not after what Bill did to me. I try not to scream and run away.
"I saw something on the news the other day," he says, breaking into my thoughts.
"Another crazy story about Florida?" I say.
"Bill got arrested," he says.
What? My mind suddenly resets, and I try to stay as calm as my will lets me. He looks serious, and I keep staring at him.
"Isn't it odd?" he says, studying my reaction. "Exactly after you found out he told me things about you."
"You come to my house and accuse me like this?"
"I didn't accuse you of anything."
"I know why you're so obsessed with me."
He laughs, shaking his head. "Obsessed? Why is that?"
I stare at him as we sway. "I didn't know about that until your obsession made it clear."
"Are you going to say it?"
"I knew all of this wasn't over a support group that helps you heal. Cause there's nothing wrong with that."
"So, what is it exactly?"
"There's a guilt in your eyes that has only one explanation."
He looks at me with hate and stops swaying with me but doesn't let go of my hand. "You're too easy to judge others," he says.
"Stop looking for a reason to hate me."
"Aren't you judging me now?"
"I'm way too fucked up for that."
"I haven't... I haven't used in so long. It was only once. I was clean for five years. A moment of weakness took over me."
"I won't tell Zoey," I reassure him as we start dancing again. "I told you before, I might know things, but I'm not opening my mouth. She's struggling with the same thing. I wouldn't bring her down."
"How do you know?"
"Know what?"
"That she is an addict, too."
"From the things she told me," I say.
He wants to question me more because he doesn't believe me.
"I didn't ask anyone," I reassure him. "I'm not an idiot. You guys are so intense about drinking and smoking." He still says nothing but demands the truth from me only by his gaze. "I'm not who you think I am," I say. "I'm busy trying to live with my flaws. So I don't judge people for theirs. You might not believe me, but I'm here if you need help with anything, even for a simple talk. We had the wrong first impression. Let us fix it."
Zoey approaches us. "Hey, thought you guys don't get along well," she says. "Now look at you."
I get back from him and smile. "Sure. Phil's a lovely man," I say, smiling at him. "You know who's dying to dance with you right now?" I say to Zoey. Phil and Smith listen curiously.
"Who?" she asks. I see how her secretary, Brian, looks at her and bites his nails like a nervous little kid.
"Huh! Awkward!" Smith says. "He's been watching us. I thought he was into me."
"Come on," I say and push Zoey toward him. Phil's not with us anymore.
I go to my room to get away from everyone. As I sit in front of the mirror, some crashing sound startles me. It comes from the bathroom. I open my first drawer and grab my knife. Slowly, I move toward the door and open it. Jon is lying inside the tub with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.
"Are you serious?" I say.
He looks at me. "I'm sorry," he says, trying to get on his feet but slips and falls into the tub.
"Stop moving! Let me help you." I grab his hand to help him, but he pulls away.
"I ain't drunk."
"Just let me help you." I grab his arm again and lift him. He drags me into the tub, and I steady myself before falling. "Do you care to tell me why you're drunk and in here?" I ask as he holds my arms tightly and looks deep into my eyes.
"I said I ain't drunk."
"Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to get married or something?"
"Shh." He moves closer, and I instinctively move the knife between us. "Whoa! What is you doing?"
"Back off!"
"You pulling knives on me now?"
"I said back off!"
"The hell is wrong with you?"
"Aren't you engaged? Why are you in my tub?"
"I wanted to talk!"
"About?"
"I—Can you put the knife down? I ain't gonna hurt you," he says.
I lower the knife, and he looks more eased now.
"I miss you," he mumbles.
"No. Don't do this."
"Let me talk to you."
"You're getting married, Jon..."
"I miss you." He gets closer to me and puts his hand on my cheek.
I have strong feelings for this man, even though he manages to break my heart every time we see each other. A flashback of Bill's aggressive touch tightens all my muscles, and my heart starts beating fast. I get away from Jon in clumsy steps and leave the room to secure myself.
Zoey sees me. "Are you okay?" she says with a brooding look. I'm shaking. "Is that a knife in your hand?" she asks. I suddenly notice I haven't put the knife down yet.
"Guys," Isla says, approaching us, and I hide the knife in my pocket. "Where's Smith?"
"What do you mean?" Zoey says. "Don't tell me he ditched his own birthday party."
I have to leave this crowd, so I slowly walk away from them and enter the bathroom. Smith is in here, smoking by the open window.
"Little privacy?" He says and exhales the smoke in his lungs when he sees me.
I get inside the bathroom and close the door. "I'm sorry," I say. "I was escaping people."
"So was I," he says, not noticing how messed-up I look.
"Since when do you smoke?"
"It's not a new thing." He takes a long drag and exhales again. I can tell he is an expert by the way the cigar rests between his fingers and the amount of smoke that leaves his mouth.
"What's up?" I ask.
"I should be the one to ask you," He says. "You look terrible."
"Seriously? You too?"
"I'm sorry."
"So... What happened? Is the party boring you? I tried my best to make it tolerable."
"James' lawyer contacted me."
"What?"
"He needs my help to get out of jail," he says, and I stay silent. "Remember when Zoey told me that you guys have slept together?" he asks, and I nod. "I was sleeping with him at that time."
"... Oh."
"Oh? Is that it?"
"I thought I'm pregnant with his child. I can't be more shocked."
"I was sleeping with him, even though he had me bankrupted. Then I found out he was cheating on me, and I crashed his car. Technically, my old car."
"I'm sorry."
"Ugh." He smokes again, and this time takes a longer drag.
"That's why you were always cranky and came home late."
"Bravo."
"Are you gonna do it?"
"Are you serious?"
"I won't judge you, Oliver. Look at me. I'm the last person to judge."
"I... I don't know."
"I'll be here, whatever your decision is."
"Thanks," he says. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he breathes deeply, then puts his cigar out. "I'm sorry for being an idiot," he says.
"What are you talking about?"
"You threw me a party, and I'm hiding in a room. God. I feel so stupid."
"Don't do that. None of the things we're going through is normal." I look at his hand and realize he has wrapped toilet paper around it. "What happened?" I ask.
"I punched the door," he says. He still has a wound on his face, and his arm has not healed completely. Yet he finds ways to hurt himself more. What if he does something to himself that cannot be reversed?
"Hey. Can I have a dance with you?" I ask to take his mind away from everything.
"Here?" he asks, and I nod. "Sure. We're both hiding from people. Why not?" He takes my hand and twirls me around.
"You never fail to surprise me," I say.
"You're stressed again."
"How would you know?"
"Your muscles are tense. I suppose you're not wearing any underwear either."
He knows me too well. When I get nervous, I can't wear any underwear. "I'm fine," I say. "Don't worry about me. It's your birthday. Enjoy it."
"I am dancing in the toilet. I'm quite enjoying it."
"Oh, my God. This is probably your worst birthday, isn't it?"
"I'm joking, Mia. You're the teasing one. How come you're serious all of a sudden?"
"Because the world is a serious place, man. And you mean a lot to me. I want you to know this."
"I do. Is that why you're too serious now?"
"Well, people don't take me seriously. Since I'm a joker."
"I can deal with you. I'm the Batman."
I shake my head. "That was cringe. Even for me."
"I thought you'd love it. You're obsessed with Batman just like Sebastian was."
"You're obsessed with Sebastian. You keep comparing me to him!"
"There was a time I had a crush on him."
"What?"
"Yes. Sebastian wasn't always an idiot. He used to be very nice. And very attractive."
"In his past life? Cause in this one, he was a dick."
He smiles. "Back to the Joker, I see," he says.
"I've been a clown my whole life, so why not today at your birthday party?"
He chuckles. "God. Thank you for this party. I know you're not okay. But you did this anyway."
"It's nothing... Oliver, can I...? Can I ask you something?"
"Yes?"
"Will you take care of my baby? If anything happens to me?"
"What? What are you talking about?"
"I'm just saying. If something happens... if I go away for some time or something happens to me, will you take care of my baby?" He says nothing. "I mean, there's still Isla and Zoey. It's okay if you don't want to. It's a heavy responsibility. But I trust you more than anyone, so."
"I will."
"You will?"
"Sure."
I hug him tight. "I love you. Thank you."
He nods. "I love you too."