Still Into You (25 page)

Mia

Chicago, 4 weeks later

Cruising down Lake Shore Drive, Mia turned her radio up as she drove home from her therapy appointment. Her second time going but her first visit in over a month. She may or may not have taken a vacation. Okay—she did. She needed to get away. She had to. Far away from anyone she knew. Far away from the paparazzi. They had been relentless after she was released from the hospital, staking out her house.

So Mia went to London. While there, she decided to cut her hair before playing tourist all over the United Kingdom. She needed a change. She was tired of seeing that person who had OD’d. As an added bonus, the new style acted as a disguise, helping her give the paparazzi the slip on more than one occasion.

While at a stoplight, Mia regarded her new hair in the rearview mirror. She still remembered staring at well over a foot of hair littering the salon floor. The hair that used to tease the top of her ass now barely teased the bottom of her neck with the edgier, choppy A-line bob, a few of the front strands longer, teasing the top of her chest. And not only did she chop off her hair, she had them bleach it a white blonde. Though it didn’t stay blonde for long. She currently had it a soft lilac.

Just a tad different.

Not as extreme as her therapist thought it was. She’d had a field day with Mia’s change of hair. Half of her appointment she spent trying to get Mia to discuss this change.
Why? How did she feel before and after it was done?
Mia side-stepped and just said over and over, “I needed a change.”

The other half of the appointment was spent discussing why she had dropped off the face of the earth the past few weeks. Mia explained and felt the judgment coming in waves off the therapist. Mia definitely didn’t like her and had absolutely no desire to share with her.

“What about your friends and family? Have you been in contact with them?”

Mia didn’t tell the therapist that she went on her trip without telling a soul, that she’d been ignoring calls and texts from her family as well as Marty, Clark, and Allie. That the only person that she wanted to hear from, Ethan, hadn’t contacted her at all.

So, she just shook her head and pushed the thought that she’d scared Ethan off for good out of her mind.

“Mia, you can’t isolate yourself. You need them . . .”

Yeah, she needed them all right, Mia thought as she drove down her alley and pulled into her garage. After she turned off her car, she sat with her hands on the steering wheel, her head on her hands, replaying Ethan saying goodbye to her. How he said he still wanted her in his life, still wanted her as his wife. Yet in this last month he’d been quiet. Her head was so messed up, she didn’t know what to think about all of that. All she knew was that it just hurt.

She got out of the car and made her way to the back door of her house. Mia used to love the feel of this place, but now when she looked at it, all she saw were her mistakes.

After unlocking the door, Mia walked in. She absently shut it and crossed her sunroom to the second entrance to the kitchen, her gaze on her footsteps instead of what was in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement by her kitchen island and whipped her head in that direction.

She screamed out in surprise, her hand flying to her chest before realizing the movement was Marty and Allie sitting at the island. Though she really shouldn’t have been too shocked to find them here. What did surprise her was the length of time it took for them to ambush her like this. She knew these two wouldn’t stay away for long and that made her thankful.

“Holy crap!” The first words out of Allie’s mouth made her internally giggle. God, she missed her manager and friend. “What the hell did you do to your hair?”

Mia ran her hand through her short hair, a few thick strands falling into her face. “Uh, well,” she began, walking further into the kitchen. “I needed a change?” she offered.

“That’s definitely change,” Marty added, stepping closer and taking a strand between his fingers before he let it go and kissed her cheek. She turned into him and wrapped her arms around him, needing to feel his strength and support, needing the safety he gave her—her big brother from another mother.

“When are you going to shave your head again?” she teased, leaning back and locking her eyes on his longish blond hair.

“Hush,” he said, releasing her and going back to his stool. Mia hopped up on the counter, her usual place in the kitchen and regarded them. She would be forever grateful that these two people saved her life.

“The color?” Allie asked, disregarding the interaction between her and Marty, still fixated on Mia’s hair. The manager in her was worried about her look and it was warring with her concern over her friend.

“What? You don’t like the lilac?”

“Why lilac?”

“Well, it was white blonde at first but I wanted a little more edge.”

The wide, shocked eyes on Allie’s face had Mia wanting to pacify her. “I can dye it back. I can grow it out . . .”

“Mia, it’s fine. But why? What’s going on? Where have you been?”

“We’ve been going nuts not knowing where you or Todd have been,” Marty added.

The guilt suddenly pressed down on her shoulders. Add to that the fact that there had been no word from Todd and Mia was feeling like utter shit for putting them through her selfish disappearance.

“I’m sorry. Have you heard from him?”

They both shook their heads. “No. We have been trying to make plans for the tour and promoting the new album. It’s hard to do without you or Todd,” Marty told her, making the guilt grow.

“Really, I’m sorry—I wasn’t thinking of that.”

“I know. I truly understand, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Our drummer is still gone. We need to make some decisions, like do we get a new drummer . . . ?”

She shook her head violently. Mia wanted Todd back.

“Mia, you know we have to,” Allie stated calmly.

“Todd left. He’s gone. What happened between you two?” he asked, waving his hand in the air. Mia knew at some point what they saw at Todd’s loft would be brought up. She knew they wouldn’t forget. Hell, she couldn’t. She recalled Marty’s anger at Todd that night. She needed to address that.

“Guys, we—it wasn’t his fault. What happened that night . . . that would fall on me. Don’t be mad at Todd.”

“He should have been looking out for you,” Marty argued, his anger at that still present. She knew they’d be curious, but this anger from Marty was uncalled for. Mia had a strong feeling that the anger may stem from more than her overdose . . . but what, she did not know.

“What am I? Four? I’m a twenty-nine-year-old woman who made some seriously bad choices.”

“What about the drugs? Specifically, you and the drugs,” Allie asked.

“I’m done with them,” Mia replied with a certainty she really didn’t feel, but hoping that by saying it that it’d reinforce her faith.

“What if they are right in front of you?”

“I’m done,” she repeated.

“What if Todd is there with you?” Marty goaded.

GODDAMN IT, stop hammering me,
she thought.

“I’m done with them. I’m done drowning out my life with drugs.”

“How far did you two go that night?” Marty continued.

“Seriously? You’re going there?” she asked in disbelief.

“Will that be an issue?” he pressed.

“No!” she screamed at him, slamming her keys on the counter. “It won’t be an issue. Whether we fucked or not should not be a factor here,” she yelled, looking at the shock on their faces. “Eight years we’ve been together. You’ve known him even longer. We are family. What he and I did or did not do doesn’t change anything.”

“You could have died that night, Mia.”

She realized this and would never forget, but Todd wasn’t to blame. “And that would have fallen on no one’s shoulders except my dead ones.”

Allie’s loud intake of breath was followed by the breathy curse of her name. “Mia!”

She sighed heavily. Mia knew they were concerned—scared. She was too. Softening her tone, she spoke again. “If you haven’t guessed, I, like Todd, have demons. They are the reason I was there at Todd’s that night. The reason why I don’t have Ethan. The reason I was drowning in the drugs and alcohol. The goddamn fucking demons.”

Jumping off the counter, Mia crossed the room to her refrigerator. As she opened the door, she noticed her hand trembling. She closed her eyes, not believing she’d admitted that to her friends.

“Are you seeing your therapist?” Allie inquired hesitantly. Mia opened her eyes, grabbed a soda, and turned to her friend, kicking the fridge door shut.

“Yes. That’s where I just was.”

“How’s it going?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Fine I guess. It’s therapy. She asks questions. I answer them. Then she tries to get me to think about what it all means. Problem is I’ve spent my life thinking about it. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. She says that I’m still hiding. Well, I’m there. It’s better than it was. One step at a time.”

That’s all she could really say since it was only her second appointment.

“Where have you been?” Marty asked.

“I went to London for a bit . . .”

“I thought you may have gone to visit your father or your grandmother in France,” Allie said, letting that bombshell hang out there.

“Uh, no. How do you know about my family?”

“You have family? A father? A grandmother?” Marty teased. He knew she didn’t discuss them. Her family was off limits. The band accepted it, though it did become fodder for teasing her—like now.

“I know, right?”

“Oh, hush,” Allie scolded. “I think this is the first time you have ever said the words ‘my family’ to me.”

Mia shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t want to get into why she didn’t.

“I don’t talk much about my family. Never have. How did you know about my father and grandmother?”

“It’s part of my job to know about these things. And what I found out, I had to find out from others—not you.”

“I know—”

“Are you talking about your family with your therapist?”

“She’d like me to,” Mia offered. That simple sentence spoke so much. The reason why therapy wasn’t going like it should. She was just too afraid to talk. To lay bare her soul to this judging stranger.

Excuses.

She pushed that unspoken word aside. She didn’t want to listen to that now.

One step at a time. She’d get there. That she knew. When? She had no idea.

Mia

The days turned to weeks and the weeks turned into months. The warmth of summer changed to the cool decay of fall. Mia didn’t want to be around for the relentlessness of winter in Chicago, so after the
Almost Honest
tour, she packed up, Allie in tow, and headed to the warmth of California.

She needed to start the new year fresh, and what better way than in a new place, a new home, a new life. With a smile, she imagined the water, the sand, and the sun. It had made quite an impression on her when she was there back when the band got their record deal.

If she gave herself time to think about this, Mia would know she was still running, but she didn’t give herself that opportunity. As much as she didn’t want to be a part of the spotlight right now, she told Allie to set up interviews, meet-and-greets. Anything to keep her busy. She filled her time from morning until night, when she’d collapse from exhaustion.

That way she wouldn’t think about Ethan . . . well, not that much anyways, because he was always in her thoughts.

But Mia knew if she lingered on those thoughts, the fact that he was not with her, she wouldn’t make it. Her life would completely fall apart.

So she pushed those thoughts, memories of him, into the furthest corner of her mind, and she threw herself into her music.

When Ethan walked out the door, she couldn’t handle it. How could she be the person she needed to be? She didn’t know what to do. So, Mia did what she knew—she escaped into her music. All her feelings about everything fueled this new music—Ethan, her mother, the drugs, her father, Tom, Todd.

She explored her relationship with Ethan, where things went wrong, how it happened. How she wanted him and the despair of not having him. The media scrutiny of her life, her relationship with Ethan. How she felt abandoned by him when she returned from Australia, like she wasn’t important to him. The opportunities they had to talk but didn’t. Many of her songs reflected her anger.

Mia focused on one song at a time—until the words were right. Perfect reflections of what was going on in her head.

When she wasn’t writing music or being Allie’s little promo slave, Mia searched for a place to live. After a month search, she finally found a beautiful home in the hills of Malibu, just a quick run down to the ocean. She had her privacy. She had sun, sand, and water at her fingertips, 180-degree views of the Pacific, and could see Catalina Island in the distance. The sunsets from the master suite were spectacular. She’d never seen anything like that in her life. Her sunsets had always been obstructed by buildings and trees. Now all she saw was the sun as it dropped beneath the ocean. Mia spent many afternoons watching that happen.