Mia stumbled into her apartment, her heart racing and her breath coming in shallow gasps. She leaned against the door after closing it behind her, willing herself to calm down. The day had been too much—Andrew, the memories, everything. Her chest tightened as she fought to hold back the tears threatening to spill.
"Mia, it's okay," she whispered to herself. "Just breathe."
Her dachshund, Misty, padded over, her tail wagging furiously. She nudged Mia's hand with her nose, sensing her distress. Mia crouched down and buried her face in Misty's soft fur, letting the steady rhythm of her breathing anchor her.
"Hey, girl," she murmured, scratching behind Misty's ears. "How was your day?"
Misty licked her cheek, and Mia couldn't help but smile through the haze of anxiety. She stood up slowly, her legs still shaky, and walked over to the mantel. There, amidst a collection of knick-knacks and framed photos, was a picture of her parents.
Mia picked it up, her fingers tracing the edges of the frame. Her parents, smiling brightly, looked back at her. Their eyes, so full of life and love, seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words. She swallowed hard, the ache in her chest deepening. The loss was still raw, even after all this time.
She could remember that day so clearly, as if it was just yesterday. She was in the newsroom with Andrew, it was late at night and her phone was on vibrate. It was a month before graduation. But that's as far as she would allow herself to dwell. She couldn't relive it. She wouldn't let herself relive the worst day of her life. Unfortunately, Andrew showing up again was stirring emotions she couldn't untangle from their passing.
"I'm doing my best," she whispered to the photo. "I hope you'd be proud."
Tears began dropping down her cheeks, and she shut her eyes tight, hoping—no, praying—that she could hear her parents' voices one more time. Wishing she could ask them for advice or even just to hug them again.
She set the picture back down and took a deep breath, forcing herself to step away from the mantel. Misty followed her to the kitchen, where Mia filled her bowl with food and water. She watched her eat, her simple contentment a small comfort.
Mia looked around her kitchen, and with the heaviness of the day, she decided to give in to comfort and do what needed to be done. She decided she'd binge-watch her favorite trashy reality TV show and have an amazing and comforting freshly-cooked meal—from her favorite Thai restaurant; she wasn't an expert in the kitchen, after all.
After placing her order over the phone, she made her way to her room. A hot bath seemed like a good decision too. She ran the bath and prepared everything, and as soon as she got in, she felt somewhat better. She sat there doing her best not to think about her parents, or the Daily Post, and especially not Andrew.
With limited options, her mind landed on John. Was she imagining things, or was he flirting with her? The thought made her giggle and shake her head. He wasn't bad-looking—not at all, actually. He had a sharp jaw, deep-set brown eyes, and luscious wavy brown hair. The more she thought about him, the more she realized how good-looking he actually was. He wasn't as tall as Andrew, but he was tall enough—wait. No. She wouldn't compare this lovely man to Andrew. He didn't matter and was irrelevant.
In any case, she couldn't go out with her barista. She couldn't risk her source of great coffee, not when she'd found the best one near her apartment. She shook the idea out of her head almost as quickly as it popped in.
After her bath, she changed into her comfiest pajamas, then heard her doorbell. Her food was finally here, and she couldn't wait to dive into it—guilt-free. She rushed to her door, but when she opened it, there was no delivery man. She looked around and saw no one but noticed a paper bag with her name on it.
She looked around again, and still seeing no one, she picked up the bag and took it inside. She put the bag on her kitchen counter and stared at it. She didn't remember ordering anything else aside from the Thai food.
Still wary it might be some kind of bomb or poison, she slowly looked into the bag and found a box of cinnamon buns. Her favorite. On top of the box was a note. She took both out and laid the cinnamon buns on the counter, then read the note.
'M —
I'm sorry if I struck a chord. I've never been entirely sure what to do in these situations, but I wanted you to know that I'm truly sorry. I know you love these, and while they can't make up for everything, I hope they at least fill your stomach and maybe, just maybe, bring a little comfort.
— A'
She melted like putty. He remembered so much about her, but she couldn't understand why he would bother retaining information like this. If only he knew how much pain it caused her to be around him. But at the same time, she couldn't deny that there was something pulling her to him.
She sighed at the note and put it between one of her books in her small living area. Her doorbell rang again, and she was surprised at herself when she felt disappointed to see that it was the delivery guy from the Thai place.
She ate her food on her couch, in front of the TV, and put on her trashy reality show. The weight of the day hung heavy on her shoulders as she sank further into the couch, pulling a blanket over herself. Misty eventually jumped up beside her, curling into a warm ball.
After munching down on food that was almost good enough to feed four, she closed her eyes, the familiar sounds and scents of home slowly soothing her frayed nerves.
But her thoughts kept drifting back to Andrew. His words, his eyes, the way he had looked at her with genuine concern. It was unsettling, this unexpected re-entry into her life. She had worked so hard to build a barrier around her heart, to protect herself from more pain. And now, with Andrew back, those walls felt precariously close to crumbling.
Mia sighed, running a hand through her hair. She needed to focus on the present, on her work, on Misty. She couldn't afford to get lost in the past. But as she drifted off to sleep, the image of Andrew's concerned face lingered in her mind, a haunting reminder that some things were never truly forgotten.