Supermarket - Bobby Hall Page 0,45

what, Flynn?”

No going back now.

“I love you, Mia.”

“Flynn, fuck you. You don’t love me. You’re fucking some random girl at work,” she said.

“Mia, listen to me. I would never think of it. I love you. I know Kurtis . . . unfortunately. He’s a bitter man-child who gets off on trying to ruin people’s lives. He likes you and wants to see us fail, that’s why he’s making up absurd lies. Trust me, baby. I love you, I would never hurt you like that. I’m sorry you’ve been hurt in the past, but that doesn’t mean all men are amoral assholes. Let me love you,” I said.

She looked into my eyes, cracking a smile. She hugged me the hardest she ever had.

“Oh, Flynn, I love you too! I’m sorry, I . . . I guess I’ve just been in my own head, you know? This time you’ve been spending alone has just gotten to me because . . . I’ve never met anyone like you. And I love spending time together. I think I’ve fallen for you harder than I thought. I get paranoid because of what my shitty ex-boyfriend did. He was fucking some girl for six months before I found out. I’m sorry I rushed to conclusions. Wow, I love you, Flynn! I can’t believe I’m breaking down that wall . . . I love you! And I really want to—”

She stopped suddenly. Slowly, she began moving away from me. Here I was, beaming, thinking it was time to rejoice . . . until her pained gaze ripped that smile right from my face. She looked even more hurt than before.

She pushed me away, tears falling and head shaking as she pulled out part of a piece of paper protruding from my desk drawer. Already in midread, she continued, eyes glued to the text as she pulled it free.

I immediately knew what she was reading.

She was reading a scene from my novel about Frank and Rachel—written from Frank’s perspective. Worse still, it was a sex scene.

“Rachel was a pro. Her pussy was the best I’ve ever had,” Mia read out loud. “The wettest my dick had ever been. I would watch her ass bouncing in the mirror. She could get it. And she did.”

I couldn’t believe it. “No, baby, it’s not what you think!” I said desperately.

“It’s not what I think? Well, Flynn, what the fuck am I supposed to think? You’re keeping a badly written sex diary about the girl you’re cheating on me with. The man I just professed my love for lied when he told me he loved me . . . obviously, he doesn’t love me if he’s fucking some other girl from work! I see how she looks at you, Flynn. I’m not stupid. And you know what? It all makes sense now. YOU PIECES OF SHIT DESERVE EACH OTHER!” she screamed.

I grabbed her by the arm again, desperate to explain. “Mia, I’m writing a novel!” I admitted. I told her everything. I had to. This was my last chance at salvaging this relationship. I told her I had a book deal. I told her I was working at Muldoon’s because I needed a normal place to base my novel on. I explained that I was basing my main character on Frank. And that Rachel had been with Frank, not me. I told her that the only thing that would get me out of the supermarket was this novel. I told her that’s why I was ignoring her. That I needed time at home to get this novel done. That my publisher kept bugging me about turning it in. I poured my heart out about how Lola dumped me because I never finished any writing projects. That I was depressed and felt broken and that creating this piece of work was the only thing that was bringing me peace besides her. I told her about my terrifying feelings of derealization. I told her how that feeling had ceased with her.

No matter what, she had to believe me. She had to understand it was all for my book.

She stared at me, unsure whether to trust the conviction in my voice or smack me for me thinking she was stupid enough to believe this. And just then the phone rang.

Instantly, I knew it was Frank! And I knew that Frank would be able to set all this straight. Even though I hadn’t told him about the novel, he would at least be able to tell