I grabbed my sweater and pulled it over my head, stuffing my arms through the sleeves, then pulled on my socks and shoes. “Damn you, Mona. This is not the answer. You know this is not the answer.”
In minutes, I was running down the stairs and out the door of her building, searching for her up and down the street. She was nowhere to be seen.
I took out my cell phone and called her. It rang and rang. She let it go to voicemail. “Mona, come on. Where’d you go? Why did you leave? Don’t do this.” But what was the use? Would she even listen to the message? She was that stubborn. I texted her.
Me: What did I do? Whatever it is, we can fix it. Call me please.
Me: Or text me.
Me: Mona. Please.
She didn’t respond. I knew she wouldn’t. “Mona!” I yelled from the top of her stoop. Pedestrians stared. I didn’t care.
The door to the yoga studio opened. For a second, I hoped it would be Mona. That was it. She just went to check on her studio. But it wasn’t.
“Suzanne.” Mona’s manager.
“I just saw her run out of here like a bat out of hell, get in Lissie’s Prius, and take off. I mean, if you’re looking for Mona.”
Mona left me.
“Do you know where she went?”
She shook her head. “Sorry. I just saw her leaving.”
“Thanks. If you see her, can you tell her to call me?” I didn’t expect her to want to call me, though. But what else was I supposed to tell her employee? Suzanne went back into the yoga studio. I ran down the stairs.
That damn Prius. Mona drove off in it. She ran away.
From me.
She told me she couldn’t do this because she’d fallen in love with me. Running scared. And she was heading to safety.
Suddenly, I knew exactly where she’d gone, and I knew where I’d find her. I wasn’t going to let her run away from me.
Chapter Fifteen: Mona
The whistle of the tea kettle was like an alarm. It woke up the part of me that said this was a terrible idea. I could not let him into my heart. I could not let him take root there. I could not. I had to tear him out, right away. When he got up to turn off the heat, I knew this was my only chance to protect myself and to protect him from the inevitable pain this thing between us would bring. The destruction.
I pulled him into a last kiss, the last kiss that would have to make up for a future without him. Then, when he went into the kitchen, I jumped up and got dressed as fast as I could. I called for him to bring things that I knew he would have trouble finding, just to buy myself time. I grabbed the keys to Lissie’s car, threw a bunch of stuff, I didn’t even know what, into a duffel bag and slipped out the door, leaving it open so he wouldn’t hear the door lock.
Out on the street I didn’t even stop to think, just got into the Prius and took off. I needed to get out of here. I needed to go somewhere that Jack wasn’t, somewhere his family wasn’t. Not his sister or his stepsister or his brother-in-laws or his cousins, and that meant not here. Not anywhere near here.
Suddenly, I felt a lot of sympathy for all the girls who had run away from home when they’d found themselves in trouble and found their way to my parents’ house. And there was my answer.
Instead of driving around aimlessly, I headed for the Adirondacks. My parents’ house, where people in need came to stay to get their feet back under them. I needed a place of safety. I needed to get away from Jack and all the people who loved him and all the people who would have opinions on whatever it was between us.
Whatever it was.
I laughed to myself.
We were in love.
I knew that.
And it was terrible. How could I have let such a horrible thing happen to me when I knew the paths it could go down? The anger, fear, despair, rejections, hurt, and abandonment. I’d always been so strong before this, always had my armor up and defenses strong. Always ready to protect the weak and vulnerable, and now, here I was. I was vulnerable. And I was the one to be protected.
I stopped midway, when I was far enough from Brooklyn to feel like Jack wasn’t following me, which was ridiculous. I’d told no one where I was going or even that I was leaving. It was just a function of how my mind could focus on nothing but him. I’d lied when I said my life didn’t revolve around him because from the moment we’d met outside my apartment over a week ago, he was the center of everything to me. And I was so mad about it. How could I have folded like that. Given everything to him. And wanted him so bad, not just physically, but with my entire heart and soul.
I grabbed a bunch of junk food at the rest stop—no one would ever know if I ate all this crap on the drive up, and I would get rid of all the evidence of how I punished myself before I got to my parents—and then I made the call.
But first a text.
Me: Lissie. I took the car. It hasn’t been stolen. Don’t worry.
Lissie: What? Where are you going? Another emergency safe house trip for a woman in danger?
Me: Something like that. Talk to you later.
Lissie: TTYL
I felt proud of myself. I’d bought some time with my friends. No one would worry about me if they thought it was just a rescue mission. Nothing out of the ordinary. They didn’t have to know that I was the woman in need. In danger of breaking my heart. Lies. My heart was already in pieces. Now for the harder call.
She picked up on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Mama? I’m coming home.”
It was dark by the time I pulled into my parent’s long driveway. Funny how I didn’t think of it as home anymore. I’d only been away for a year or so, but it didn’t feel like my place anymore. Home was Brooklyn and the life I’d made there with my friends, my apartment, and my yoga studio.
Realistically, I knew that I couldn’t just run away from my life. It was mine. I had responsibilities but I needed to get away from things. I needed to get away from him, to get my feet back under me, to start building up some defenses against him again, so when I saw him again I wouldn’t fall to pieces.
How could I have let that happen? I was stronger than that. The temperature had dropped, and I wrapped my sweater around me. The junk food wrappers were long since gone. I was ready for some homemade Mama style love.
I crunched up the walk. They’d left all the lights on. It looked like a party, frankly, which was weird. Mama and Dad never wasted energy like this, so I wondered if they were celebrating my return.
It felt good. I belonged somewhere, at least. I opened the door without knocking, expecting to see them at their normal after dinner stations, parked in front of the fireplace, listening to music on the old turntable while playing board games, or knitting or carving wood. There was the fire, burning merrily. There was Ursa, the giant wooden bear statue with my name over its heart.
But they weren’t there.
I heard laughter from the kitchen, many voices. Maybe they had guests. I dropped my duffle bag on the old couch.
“Mama? Dad! I’m here,” I called before I stepped into the kitchen.
They all turned and looked at me. Mama, Dad, Maria, who Jack and I had brought up here . . .
and Jack.
“Mona!” they called in unison. Mama leapt up and came rushing forward for her hug. Dad poured another glass of mead—they were all drinking mead—and brought it over for me. While they were hugging and greeting me, my eyes never left Jack.