Page 48 of Prove Me Wrong (The Sunburnt Hearts #5)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

MIA

D o you ever feel like you’re the odd one out when you’re alone with your parents? Because that’s exactly how I’m feeling right now.

Sitting at the table, fork playing with my uneaten food, chin dipped to avoid their gazes, I listen to my parents talk. They understand each other. They know that their lives revolve around their businesses and not their children. So why do I need to be here? Honestly, I have no idea.

Sinnett is at training tonight, leaving me alone with these two, who are carrying on about the traffic in the city.

That’s something I haven’t missed. The traffic is awful here, but I don’t voice my opinion.

Instead, I push peas around my plate, my mind drifting to the many times that Jade had them stuck to her mouth, or when she’d drop them on the floor.

She’s not a picky eater, but more of a playful one.

My chest starts aching again, and I give my head another quick shake, pushing the memory out of my brain. All it does is remind me of Noah, and how I feel as though I’ll never be able to trust him again.

“Don’t even get me started on George Street.” Mum sighs, and I roll my eyes, not at all interested in their conversation. I’d much rather be watching Sinnett’s practice than be sitting here.

Stomach gurgling loudly, interrupting their conversation.

Mum looks at me, her green-blue eyes like my brother’s, only a shade or two deeper, stare into mine.

She’s beautiful for her age. I can see why Dad fell for her.

A promising lawyer, smart, pretty, and from a good family.

Dad was a rugby star back in the day and now commentates on games. It made sense for them to fall in love.

Noah is an athlete while also being a single dad. And his mum was right about me. A girl who lives with her grandma and hardly has money. It doesn’t make sense for us to be together. It doesn’t feel like it should work, but?—

“Mia, are you not hungry?” Mum’s words cut through my thoughts.

Blinking at her, I shake my head. “Not really,” I answer quietly.

“I think your stomach says otherwise. Eat up so that I can clean.”

My gaze falls to their polished off plates, knowing that they’ve been waiting for me to finish this whole time.

Putting my fork down, I lean back in the stiff chair. “I’m done.”

I feel their eyes on me, but I don’t look up. I tuck my chin into my chest, eyes closing. I want to shut out the whole world right now because all I can think about is Noah, and Jade, and this job, and Ryan, and Gran… it’s like there’s a tornado inside my skull.

“You haven’t even touched it, Mia,” Mum huffs out, and it’s like another stab to my chest. “Why do I even bother?”

The feelings rise again, my anxiety causing my pulse to race as my fingers start shaking.

Mum doesn’t understand the pressure I’m holding onto.

The secrets buried beneath my skin, clawing their way out.

I feel the hot, sticky bile pressing in my throat, burning like lava.

I push my chair out and dash to the bathroom, just in time to let out the small amount of contents in my stomach.

Shoulders trembling, skin pebbling, tears drip from my eyes as I gag into the bowl.

The fire sensation keeps burning until I hear her behind me.

“Mia. ”

Her hands are on me, pulling back my hair. I cling to the porcelain, mouth vibrating as nothing else comes up.

“Mia, are you sick?” Her words sound gentler now.

I ease back into her hands, missing the feeling of their warmth, rubbing circles on my back. I flush the toilet before getting up on shaky legs and rinsing my face. Splashes of cold water wake me up, making my nerves vivacious. Mum hands me a towel to dry myself off.

Standing at the sink, she stares at me through the mirror. The worry etched into her striking features gives me a sense of relief. I hate that just the idea of opening up to her makes me sick, but I need to. I can’t keep holding onto everything much longer. “Mum.”

“Mia, I think you should rest.” Her hand touches my arm. Through the mirror, I see her gaze drop to the back of my arm, reading the ink sprawled into my skin.

Spinning to face her, I hold it, like somehow her eyes burnt my skin, searing with pain.

I swallow away the gross feeling in my oesophagus, knowing that this might be the only time I can speak with her in private.

It’s not exactly how I imagined this to be, but It’ll have to do. “Mum, I need to talk with you.”

Her lips part. Can she sense that I’m going to share something deep with her? Something gut-wrenchingly hard. “You aren’t pregnant, are you?”

Eyes shutting, I lower my face, not believing that she just asked me that. She doesn’t know me at all. “No, Mum. I’m not.”

“Good. That’ll just get in the way of your career, and you know how important that is.” The peppiness in her tone makes my spine shiver.

I hate how disconnected I feel from her. Like she can’t see how much I am struggling right now. How hard I have been struggling for years. But then again, she spends more of her time working and talking with clients than she does being in the same room as me and Sinnett.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I turn away from her. “I’m going to sleep,” I mumble, no longer in the mood to share my past with her.

“Good. I think you need to sleep off whatever sickness this is. Your brother has a game on Sunday, and we can’t have him out again. He only just returned after his injury.”

Mouth gaping open at her, a flicker of rage comes to life in me, realising once again that my brother’s well-being is more important to her than my own. “No, we wouldn’t want that, would we,” I bite out a little angrier than I wanted, but I don’t care.

Storming out of the bathroom, I run upstairs before Dad can catch me.

Mum calls after me, but I slam my door shut, leaning against it.

My heart beats rapidly as I fall to the floor.

Tears freely flow, and I let myself wallow in the emptiness of my childhood room.

This room just reminds me of the girl I used to be, before my life shifted and I became this mess of a human.

I hate how I am now. I don’t trust people.

I don’t feel useful or loved. And that’s all I’ve wanted all my life, to feel like I am enough.

Pulling out my phone, I open my messages with Noah. It feels like the last connection I have with him. The sweet texts he sent. How he was excited to see me after his race. When I left him his favourite lemon squares when he won.

I sob through a twisted smile, remembering how he made me feel.

Noah made me feel like me, and now I don’t think I'll ever be able to feel that way again. I’ll just be this hollowed out person who shakes when men talk to me, and hates large crowds, loud people and busy streets.

I want to be that girl again. The one who belonged in Barrenridge, who looked after Jade, and couldn’t wait for her dad to come home .

Swallowing, I click through the photos we sent to each other. The ones of Jade and I watching his race weekends. A photo of the top he bought me. Some of Noah and Jade on the weekends, in the park, their backyard, the general store.

My fingers stop scrolling on one Noah sent me one night.

It’s of Jade eating in the kitchen, her face covered in food, smiling through the mess as she holds up her grubby little fingers.

But in the reflection of the backsplash, Noah’s bare figure is outlined.

His unkempt golden hair, burning green eyes, bulging muscles clearly defined, and a big smile plastered on his gorgeous face.

It brings more tears to my eyes because I want to be there with them again. To be standing in his house, the smell of him infused in the walls and furniture, the airiness of his place that never had me feeling suffocated. I miss it. I miss him.

Sniffing, I go to the next photo of Jade sitting in the living room when Sinnett’s name covers the screen. Wiping my nose, I answer his call, dragging the phone to my ear.

“Hey, twinkle fingers. How was dinner? Sorry I missed it.”

My head shakes as I blink away tears, trying to appear more put together than I feel right now. “It was fine.”

I can tell from the silence that he knows I’m far from okay right now. “Did Mum say something to you?”

“No,” I murmur, pressure building in my throat, and my eyes rim with water once more.

He hums, and I hear his car door slam shut. “Do you want to come to mine tonight? I promise I’ll let you pick our movie.”

I choke out an ugly sob and nod quickly, wanting nothing more than to get out of this place. “Yes.”

“I’ll pick you up in fifteen. ”

“Thank you,” I rasp out before ending the call.

Going into the bathroom, I shower away some of the pain squeezing my chest so tightly like a clamp.

Drying off, I look through my bag for some clothes when I see Noah’s grey briefs.

I never gave them back to him after I washed them.

Pushing down the lump, I slip them on, feeling their comfort once again, even though they barely fit me.

I’ve hardly eaten this week, shrinking my already smaller frame, but I don’t want to take them off.

Pulling on my trackpants, tee and hoodie, I grab my phone before heading downstairs.

Mum is on a call with someone in her office, her loud tone echoing through the house as I slip on my runners, wanting to get out of here.

“Where are you going?”

I turn to face Dad, who is standing in the doorway of the living room, hands in his pockets.

He’s the older version of Sinnett. The same dark hair, slightly bluer eyes, taller, brawnier build.

We haven’t been close over the last few years.

He’s more focused on Sinnett’s rugby career than anything else, but it pulls on my heartstrings to hear the concern coating his words.

“Sinnett is getting me. He just finished practice.”

He nods once and steps closer, tongue dampening his lips before they smile kindly. “Your mum is just dealing with an annoying client at the moment.”

“I know. Her clients are important to her.”

More important than me, it feels .

Dad’s head tilts as he lets out a breath, the line in his shoulders sloping, loosening his posture.

“You are, too, Mia. Even if she doesn’t say it out loud. ”

My jaw ticks, eyes dropping from his intense ones. “Right. I’m going to Sinnett’s,” I mumble out and turn for the door.

“I told her to leave Monday morning open to spend some time with you.”

Frowning, I glance over my shoulder at his troubled face, lips parting in surprise.

“I heard you in the bathroom. Thought you could use the time to talk with her about…” His words drop off, an uneasiness settling in his muscles.

Swallowing, my lips twitch as I pull away from the door. “And she listened to you?”

Dad sniffs a laugh. “I don’t think your mum ever listens to me, so I texted her assistant to block out her meeting time for you.”

Chin dipping, I run my fingers through my silky hair, hating that I have to have her assistant make time to speak with Mum, but it’s better than nothing. “Thanks, Dad.” My smile appears again when a honk sounds outside. “That’s Sin.”

His hands come out of his pockets, lifting to touch my shoulder gently. It feels nice, like something I have craved for months is finally back. Such a small movement has a big effect on how I’m feeling inside. “Go. I’ll tell your mum you’ll be there for the night.”

“Thank you, Dad,” I murmur.

He opens the door for me and lets me go into the cold night.