01.Returning from a trip

                     Mia Miller              

I step off the bus with the small suitcase in my hands. I didn't tell anyone I was coming because I wanted to surprise my fiancé.

It's been two months since I've seen the sky of this city. I missed the fresh air of Colorado so much.

I clutch Collin's apartment keys and smile. He didn't know I was coming, and he was at work at this hour. I decided to wait for him here. I spent two weeks away, trying to find a job in the city. I had some interviews there, but I wasn't hired.

I was turned down last time because I didn't have experience in the Italian language, and the job required it. Which made no sense to me.

At the peak of my twenty-two years, I felt like a loser.

I turn the key in the lock and open the door. Stepping into the living room, I find everything messy, typical of him.

For the past nine months, we've been preparing for our wedding.

0,

Even though I'm still unemployed, my almost-husband said it wasn't a problem for him.

I loved him.

I had studied business administration, but I never imagined that after graduating from the college my father worked so hard to pay for, I couldn't find any jobs.

I throw the suitcase on the couch and head to the fridge to get some water. I'm exhausted, but today I want to do something special; we haven't slept together yet. Never.

We never got past making out. I didn't feel ready, and Collin respected that, even found it nice that I wanted to get married as a virgin. But lately, I felt him so distant that I decided I was willing to do whatever it took.

As I walk towards the kitchen, I stub my pinky toe on the couch, causing unbearable pain.

"Owe," I shout, hopping around trying not to scream.

Damn it.

As I bend down to check if I hurt myself, I notice something strange: under the chair, a woman's purse. It's not mine, but it's strangely familiar.

I pick it up to look, and a car keychain falls out of the bag, wait…

"I know this damn keychain," I sigh, staring at the keychain with the letter "F" in my hands.

My heart starts racing, my hands tremble as I put the glass of water on the counter.

A knot grows in my stomach, suffocating my mind, and several horrible thoughts hang over me. I already knew what would probably happen here, but still, I tried to find solutions or answers.

I walk slowly towards the bedroom, swallowing hard and holding back tears.

My hands touch the damn doorknob; I can't even open them because they're shaking so much.

I finally gather the courage, and the door opens.

And there they are… him and her.

My world collapses in a second. It's as if the ground disappears from under my feet.

He, the fiancé I trusted and shared the last two years of my life with, with Fallon, my best friend, and the person I thought was my soulmate, who happened to be also organizing the damn wedding.

Everything seemed to slow down at that moment, and I ran out without looking back.

I felt his hands touching my arm and quickly pulled away.

"Mia, I can explain," he said, failing miserably."

"Never touch me again! I want you both to die!"I shout with all the hatred in my heart and take a deep breath."

"Mia, it's not what you think, I can… you weren't supposed to be here, I."

"Ah," I put my hands to my face, letting out an incredulous laugh, "I wasn't supposed to be here? Is it my fault for coming early? I'm sorry."

"No, she means nothing to me, it was just once. I was needy, you weren't coming back, and also, you never wanted to be with me, always avoiding it. You know I couldn't go on like this for much longer."

I look at him and shake my head in disbelief.

"You're a piece of shit," I hurled the glass jar I got water in at him.

The jar hits the wall, leaving me angrier and more frustrated.

"Love. Believe me, if you…" he stutters, "If you were here, I would never have been with her. I love you, Mia, it's just that she offered herself, and I'm a man, we can put this behind us, and we'll get married and have our special night, as we planned."

My pulse races. I continue to watch him, trying to find a single reason to love that man.

"If I could, I'd bury you," I spat the words.

I hear footsteps and see Fallon coming out of the room, covered in one of his shirts. Pathetic!

I feel like trash. But I was sure they were worse.

"I…" Fallon whispers, "Mia, I don't know what to say."

When I saw her, I lunged at her on impulse, immediately grabbing her hair. It was the only possible reaction. I wanted to end her.

Collin holds me back.

"So that's why you gave me so much advice saying that this useless one wasn't good for me? Because he was good for you. You deserve each other!"

I grab my suitcase and head towards the door, my face burning so red, and tears streaming uncontrollably. I couldn't believe he would do this to me.

They.

I leave the building with a heavy heart and tears flowing uncontrollably. It feels like everything hurts in my body, a physical pain.

The betrayal hurts, but trusting him and being let down hurts even more.

My mind tries to blame me.

If I had given him what he needed before…

No, no, Mia… it's not my fault! It was never my fault. I did everything for him.

I take an Uber and allow the tears to fall throughout the entire journey. With each passing moment, I imagine how I would uninvite people, saying, "Look, there won't be a wedding anymore, I was betrayed."

I remember how I imagined, how I dreamed of this wedding moment… He was my first boyfriend. And Fallon, pretending to be my friend all this time. The most painful thing was knowing it was her.

She was there for me when my mother died, through everything. I thought our friendship would last forever.

It was better to have a declared enemy than a friend.

"Dad?" I shout as I throw the suitcase on the couch.

Silence.

Great, he wasn't home. I could cry all I wanted.

I picked up the phone, which was in silent mode. Ten missed calls and twenty messages from Collin. Jerk. I ignore all his attempts to contact me, delete his number, and block him from my life.

As I sit in the chair, I spot a letter on the counter.

The word "mortgage" jumps out at me, and a frightened breath escapes me. A coldness runs down my spine, my heart skips a beat. The mere mention of that word brings a wave of immense worry. Holding that paper was like having an extra weight in my hands, a pressure in my chest. A mixture of fear and anxiety takes over me, my mind spinning with worrisome possibilities.

The letter detailed how my father had mortgaged our house and how we were on the verge of losing it. One hundred thousand dollars: the amount we owed to save our home. Why would he do that and not tell me?

A wave of desperation and helplessness washes over me. What to do? Where do I get that amount? And how? Questions swirl in my mind, but no answer seems clear.

I try to move, to react somehow, but it feels like I'm frozen. With the phone in my hands, I try to call my father to demand an explanation, but all I get is voicemail.

"Shit!" I exclaim.

Then I called my college friend Charlotte. I need to see her before I lose control. We weren't as close as I was with that bitch Fallon, but we always met casually, and she was a good friend.

"I need to see you," I say between sobs. "At that little bar, we used to go to after college."

I put on any dress and grab my bag after almost using up all the concealer trying to hide my tear-stained face.

I look again at the mortgage letter, trying to understand why my father would do this.

The house was all we had. After my mother died, we were lost. And my father drank every night.

Despite that, he was a good man and a good father. He didn't let me go without anything and covered everything I needed to become someone.

I return to the bad thoughts…

This shitty day couldn't get any worse. Betrayed by my boyfriend, I found out we're practically homeless. And worst of all: I have no idea how to fix it.

I just want to drown my sorrows in a glass of whiskey.

Nothing else matters now. The betrayal, the impending loss of the house… Nothing. I feel adrift, disconnected from everything except the pain that seems to consume my whole being.

There, no one would care about my sad story, and I would just be another girl at the bar.

And maybe that's what I need, a moment where nothing would matter.