Mikey swirled the red mixer stick in his cup of coffee. He watched the muddy liquid spin in the paper cup before pushing the stick aside and lifting the steaming drink to his lips to take a sip. His light brown eyes scanned the small café as his long fingers began playing with the mixing stick again. He leaned forward over the booth being sure to keep his face turned away from the window. The bell over the door jingled and his head shot up. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her.

“Dom, over here,” he piped up and her cloudy gray eyes met his. She offered a small smile, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly. She brushed her hair behind her ear and made her way over to him, her hands tucked in the pockets of her winter jacket.

“Hi,” she breathed, sliding into the booth across from him.

“Morning,” he muttered, taking another swig of coffee. “How are you feeling?”

Her hands smoothed over her abdomen and she shrugged, “Still achy but sleeping and ice really helped.”

He nodded with a small smile and waved a waitress over to take her order. All Dom asked for was a glass of orange juice. He took another sip of coffee and watched her. She looked battered and beautiful. He could see the fear and pain in her eyes. She was struggling with something. Something big.

“Mikey, I—” she began but stopped and chewed the inside of her cheek.

The nerves bounced around in the pit of his stomach. The second she called him and asked to meet up he knew something was wrong. He heard the worry in her voice and the nervousness in her eyes confirmed it. Something bad was about to happen.

“What’s wrong?” He leaned forward when she splayed her fingers on the table. The black nail polish was chipped and her caramel skin looked chalky from lack of moisturizer. Mikey brushed his fingers over hers before pulling her hands into his and holding them loosely. “Dom?”

“I—” she tried again but failed. The emotion in her eyes wrenched at him. Tears glimmered in the corners, smudging her eyeliner. She bowed her head, her hair falling forward over her shoulders. “I can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

She shook her head and blinked, a few tears leaking from her eyes. She pulled her hand away from his and wiped them away. She shook her head again, her lips quivering as she fought off tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, scooting out of the booth and standing. Her fingers tangled in her hair to keep it from her face and she took a step away from him. “Mikey, I’m so sorry.”

Turning on her heel she jogged out into the morning leaving a gust of chill air in her wake.

Mikey stared at the door, at her retreating form, as she disappeared into the New York City streets. His brow furrowed and he took one last swig of coffee before tossing a ten on the table and standing. Pulling his hood up over his slicked back hair he slid his sunglasses on and made his way out into the chill air. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open, typing out a text message.

‘So, what the hell just happened?’

_______

Dominica frowned at the little backlit screen. She’d been staring at the text since she got it right after she’d run out on Mikey. She rubbed her hand over the corner of her eye and watched the screen go black before clicking the unlock button to turn it on again. She had no idea why she ran away, she just couldn’t stand the look on his face like he expected her really bad news. He looked like a lost puppy, his brown eyes and natural pout instantly melted her heart and she hadn’t been able to stop the emotion from spilling over. She just didn’t want to hurt him like that. Not when he was just finding his confidence, rediscovering his passion for the band. Her phone buzzed again and she glanced down. He was calling her.

She smoothed her thumb over the screen and waited, warring with herself as her finger hovered over the answer button. The vibration made her hands tremble even worse but she couldn’t bring herself to stop it and ignore or answer the call. Instead, the phone stopped on it’s own. The screen telling her she had one missed call. She expected a voicemail but it began vibrating again, his name and picture lighting up her screen again.

“Fuck,” she whispered as the subway came to a stop and she stood, still staring at the little device. Swallowing hard she knew he was going to keep calling her until she answered so she pressed the connect button, slowly lifting the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Dom, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she whispered, sliding through the turnstile and making her way toward the stairs leading out of the subway.

“Liar,” he accused, his voice annoyed and frustrated. “What’s wrong? Why did you just run off like that?”

Her voice caught in her throat and she felt her eyes brim with tears again. She was being a coward. She knew had to tell him but she just didn’t know how. “I—Mikey, I have bad news.”

“I figured that much,” he sighed, his tone easing into the low gentle monotone she was used to.

“I’m sick,” she sighed. “I’m really sick, Mikey.”

“You look fine to me,” he chuckled, clearing his throat when she didn’t respond. “Sorry.”

“That’s not what I mean.” She chewed the inside of her lip, trying to find the words. She just wanted to come out with it. The sneaking around, the thrill of having an affair with his brother, her addiction to more than just drugs, she wanted to tell him everything. Instead she just sighed and sniffed. “There’s so much I have to say and I just can’t—” her voice cut off again, choked with emotion. “Just know that I’m sorry and I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Hurt me how?” he sounded worried now. Dominica stopped and sat down on the stoop of her apartment. She paused to catch her breath and bowed her head, blowing her breath into her exposed hand for warmth.

“Dom?”

“I’m still here,” she muttered.

“Where are you? I’ll come meet you, we obviously have to talk.”

“No, go back home. I’ll see you before you leave again, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

“No, Dom, come on, I’m already here. Where’d you run off to?” he sounded desperate, worried, concerned. Her heart hurt just listening to him.

“I have to go, Mikey. I’ll talk to you later,” she could hear him yelling at her but she ended the call anyway. The pain consumed her, sinking her into a mess of tears. She hugged her knees to herself and cried, the tears soaking her jeans and hands. She struggled to her feet, pulling out her keys. Fingers shaking she unlocked the front door, running up to her apartment to escape the cold.