Chapter 1.3.8

[MIA]

Two weeks later, life was normal again, but somehow, normal had become boring. A surprise hit me when I discovered Alex had secretly been paying my rent for the past five months, just to give me a sense of normalcy. I decided to get back to baking.

Baking no longer brought me happiness. I'd baked excessively in recent weeks, trying to forget my estranged husband, as if cupcakes could fill the void he left.

Divorce. I was the one who'd wanted it from the start, so why did the word still hurt so much?

"Mia, you know I don't eat sugar, right?" Dominic grunted. "I'm distributing your cupcakes to the hospital staff."

"Someone's eating them," I sighed, looking around his hospital room.

"He's not here," Dominic added nonchalantly.

I blinked. "I wasn't looking for Alex."

"I never mentioned Alex."

"Right," I scoffed, "as if I have another 'he' in my life."

"If you miss him, just call him," he suggested.

"After he basically shoved me out of his house after dropping the divorce bomb and told me to take my time to reply? No thanks," I scoffed. "What does he think of himself anyway? He apologized for taking my choice away, and then dropped the divorce word. That's a choice he's offering you." Dominic grunted again, backing away as he rises. "Test your girl pals. Find yourself one if you're such a lover of having a steady. I'm not your rebound."

"I'm still waiting for your box. That kind of makes me your boss, you know?" he smugly added.

"Please," I chuckled, a half smile which was the most I could get out of him. "You're kind of my best friend these days. We're trauma-bonded."

"This doesn't even scratch the surface of my trauma, and I'd like it on record that your company has been forced upon me by yourself. I don't want Sir to put me back into a coma after he finds out you're spending time with me."

I sighed. "He really doesn't know I've been here every day?"

"Nope," Dominic shook his head. "And I would appreciate it if you stopped trying to grab his attention like this. My recovery is being dampened by your presence."

I ignored his comment, and a grin spread across his lips. "Grabbing his attention," my smile widened. "That's right, that's exactly what I need to do for him to contact me first!"

"That is not what I meant," Dominic emphasized.

"You're the best." I wished him a speedy recovery and jumped out of the room before I could give in to his grumpy protests.

Alina dragged me to nightclubs. Many of them. But I hadn't been to one in over a year. I'd forgotten how incredibly crowded they could be, and how much the scent of alcohol and sweat lingered in the air. Not to mention the drunk young adults stumbling around, getting high in various corners.

I eyed Stephen, who had followed me into the club intently. Alex really thought he was slick, with Stephen trailing me 24/7 in an undercover getup and a black SUV parked outside my apartment constantly.

"Two tequila shots," I told the bartender before I even saw Alex's dark card. If paying with the black card will hardly be a problem, and keeping them coming won't be taxing. Actually, reach that like I buy them all. A battle of wills. All on this premise.

I squinted, my eyes aching when the bartender looked at me like I’m pretentious, but accepts the card anyway. I downed the tequila shots; the burning in my stomach was unwelcome, but I didn't care. I had two more for liquid courage, and then hit the dance floor.

My dress was silvery and skimpy, stopping above my mid-thighs. It had a sweetheart neckline and a designer tag that I’d cut off after purchasing it with Alex's card, along with my new Jimmy Choo heels—the pretty ones with the bows.

My heart burned, but this is what he gets. That man had the audacity to take away my choice, make me fall completely in love with him, and then give me up like it was the easiest decision he'd ever made. He calls that a f***ing choice?

I'd been sleeping alone for the past two weeks, crying, thinking about calling him like this was my first breakup, while he was out doing mafia things. B*d mafia things. And I know that because Dominic told me he’d been out of town the first week.

I swayed to the music, letting myself go, noticing Stephen shaking his head repeatedly as he stood grumpily at the edge of the dance floor, never taking his eyes off me. Real subtle.

"Hey, gorgeous," a man's breath hit my ear, his hand snaking around my waist. "You looking for a good time?"

"No thanks," I scowled, immediately pushing him away.

"Come on," he insisted, pulling out a joint. "It's OC. Top quality."

"I said," I screamed over the music, "F off, dhead, NO!"

[The following section has been significantly cleaned up due to the presence of several sexually suggestive and offensive terms. The core meaning of the interaction is preserved, but the explicit language is removed for clarity and appropriateness.]

A significant altercation occurs, resulting in Mia being forcibly taken away. She is subsequently reunited with Alex in a car. An argument ensues, leading to physical interactions. Ultimately, Mia confesses to seeking Alex's attention. Alex expresses remorse, claiming he did not let her go. The story concludes with Mia fleeing to Alex's house.