Hold On

Cher said nothing.

“Told her not to come back. She wasn’t hip on that, went away, apparently thought on things, came back, and said she’s been tryin’ to sort our shit for years without doin’ fuck all to sort it. Now she officially wants to give it a go.”

Cher remained silent.

“I told her to get home, and when she pushed it, I told her she got anywhere near my condo, I would arrest her for harassment.”

Her hand spasmed again in his.

He knew he had her eyes when she asked, “Say what?”

“You heard me,” he answered. “But she’s Mia, so she didn’t back off. Sent me a picture of us before things went bad, sayin’ she’s gonna work on gettin’ that back.” He squeezed her hand. “That’s what you gotta know. So I didn’t go into this with you and fuck it up, I had to know I had my head right about her, and she fortunately gave me all I needed to get my head right about her which meant get her out of my head. In the end, wasn’t hard since all I could think about was you and how it wasn’t my favorite thing, sittin’ on my ass, waitin’ for you to either apologize or for your time to be up. But there it is.”

“All you could think about was me?” She again sounded disbelieving, but it was deeper this time, not harsh, but still, it almost hurt to hear.

He pulled her hand to his thigh before he answered, “Yeah.”

Cher didn’t say more.

“Okay, baby,” he started carefully, “you got that because you need it, for us startin’ out and just because you need to know that went down. But also, you need to know that puttin’ things into perspective with Mia meant I had to think on history. Bottom line, I fucked her over. I damaged what was us in order to end it because I had shit fuckin’ with my head I didn’t know how to sort. But I hurt her. Things got more out of hand after that and she participated in that, but it started with me burnin’ her and our marriage. She’s bent on attempting reconciliation. I need to make certain she knows that isn’t in the cards so she can finally move on. I also need to apologize to her for fuckin’ up what we had that’s now lost in a way we can’t go back.”

“So you need to talk to her,” she surmised.

“I need to talk to her,” he confirmed.

“Mia and Merry talking,” she muttered.

“Please don’t go back there,” he whispered.

He felt her eyes again on him, but she didn’t say anything.

“You’re here, and honest to fuck, it would pain me deeply, Cher, if you didn’t think I was where I needed to be with you to ask you to find that dress, put it on, and haul your ass into my truck to take a shot with me. I do not wanna go back to havin’ to prove it to you. What I do know with fuckin’ up another relationship is that you gotta lay yourself out from the start. Right now, that’s happening with Mia. You cannot hear it from someone else. And honestly?” It was a question, but he didn’t wait for her answer. “I want you with me when I do it. Not with me, sittin’ across from her. But with me so I can go to you after and lay on you what comes of that so I can let it go.”

Again, Cher didn’t speak.

He gave her time.

She said nothing.

“Am I back to provin’ shit to you?” he pushed.

“No.” Her voice was strange in a way he’d never heard from Cher. It was almost timid. “I’m here for you to lay it on me what comes of that, Merry.”

Thank fuck.

That took a lot for her. He knew it.

And he was glad for it.

So as he drove, he lifted her hand and brushed her knuckles with his lips, feeling her fingers curl around his almost too tight as he did it.

He dropped their hands back to his thigh, glanced at her, and said, “Thanks, brown eyes.”

“Don’t mention it,” she muttered.

He looked back to the road.

“Am I gonna have to take this bitch down?” she asked.

A Cher and Mia catfight.

Mia didn’t stand a chance.

He grinned at the road.