Mia

I’m sweating through my nightshirt when I wake up at 4:00 a.m. three days after the attack. I shove the down comforter in Anton’s guest room aside and go into the kitchen for some water.

My heartbeat is just now returning to its normal pace after I dreamed about Adam breaking into Anita’s apartment with a butcher knife, telling me he was going to finish the job he started.

I sit down on the couch with my water and click the remote to turn on ESPN, hoping to catch hockey highlights. Dix and I watched Anton’s game last night, but I’d like to see replays of the two goals he scored. One was a shot across the ice that sent the crowd to its feet.

Adam was suspended from the team, and Anton told me he’s likely to be released. He’s out on bond, but I got a restraining order against him.

Not that it’ll stop him from coming after me if he wants to, but he won’t be able to get to me now. I’m staying at Anton’s apartment, and he hired around the clock security to sit in the hallway outside his front door.

He also offered to pay for Anita and Dre to stay at a hotel, but she declined. She carries her bat with her every time she leaves the apartment now.

Dix will be up in a couple hours, if not sooner. He went to bed right after the game ended last night. Since Anton told him what happened, he’s been taking it easy on me. No complaining or excessive swearing. I miss the old Dix and hope he doesn’t plan to keep this up for long.

Hockey highlights aren’t on, and since it’s winter break, I don’t even have any studying to do. I’ve gone from falling into bed after shifts at the bar and waking up with drool on my pillow and a headache from not sleeping enough to not having anything to do.

I go into the kitchen and dig through the fridge and pantry for ingredients to make my grandma’s banana muffins. They were my favorite smell to wake up to as a kid.

Dix eats two muffins after he wakes up, commenting on how nice the sunrise is as he takes a sip of coffee.

“I’m fine, you know,” I say in a cross tone.

“What’s that s’posed to mean. I never said you weren’t.”

I shake my head as I wipe down the table. “You’ve been super nice to me since the other night. I don’t want you feeling sorry for me.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you.”

“What’s with you, then? You haven’t bitched about my cooking once. You haven’t called the people who make your word search books cocksuckers or asked me to get you booze.”

Dix rolls his eyes. “You never do it anyway so why would I keep asking?”

“Because that’s you. I’m not some damsel in distress, you know. Getting choked by my soon to be ex-husband sucks, but I’ve taken my knocks before. Maria Pelini busted up my face real good when her boyfriend dumped her to ask me out sophomore year.”

Dix’s eyes soften. “Did you know I was once married, Mia?”

“No.” I’m taken aback by this news.

“Yeah.” He smiles sadly. “Her name was Eileen. I loved her more than anything. We got married a couple weeks before I had to ship out with my military platoon, and those weeks were the happiest time of my life.”

I sit back down in my chair at the table, focusing all my attention on Dix. “I didn’t know you were in the military. What happened?”

He looks out the window at the lake. “Back then I would’ve told you we just grew apart while I was away. But the truth is, war changed me. I came back a cynical man. Eileen did everything she could to get things back to the way they were before I left, but…” He shakes his head.

“I’m sorry.”

Dix clears his throat and turns back to me. “I can be a mean bastard, but I never would’ve laid a hand on Eileen. Or any other woman.”

“Not all men are so noble,” I say sadly.

Dix lays his good forearm on the kitchen table as he speaks. “Actually, most of us are. You got paired up with a bad fuckin’ egg, Mia.”

“I was so blind. So stupid.”

“See, there’s where you’re wrong.” Dix’s voice is uncharacteristically earnest. “You know what I see when I look at you?”

“What?”

“Me.” His eyes narrow. “And that’s a load of horseshit.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’ve turned cynical, based on this one asshole. Telling yourself and the rest of the world you’re stupid when he’s the stupid one. You doubt yourself when you’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

I look down at the table, his words taking me by surprise.

“You do realize my nephew is in love with you, right? Ass over teakettle. Ain’t no hope for that boy, he’s got it bad for you.”

I smile, warming inside. “I’m lucky. And when I’m single—”

Dix slaps the table so hard I jump. “No, you’re not lucky! Stop that shit.” His trademark growl is back. “Look at you. Pretty, smart as a whip, funny, kind. You’re a shit cook but he’s rich so it don’t matter. Stop telling yourself you’re stupid. That you’re somehow responsible for your asswipe husband’s inexcusable behavior. And that you’re lucky a man like Anton would want you. He’s lucky, you hear?”

My nose burns as tears flood my eyes. I can’t help it—they spill over.

“Oh, don’t start that,” Dix grumbles, rolling his eyes.

I shoot toward him and wrap my arms around him in a hug. He lets me embrace him for a few seconds before grunting. I pull back and wipe my cheeks.

“My grandpa is all I have left,” I say, sniffing. “He and my grandma raised me. And now he has Alzheimer’s. He doesn’t know who I am anymore. And what you said just now,” I well up again. “It was like I could feel him here with me. I needed that more than I can tell you. Thank you, Dix.”

“Just telling it like it is,” he says gruffly.

“Well, I love you for that.”

He looks startled, and then gives me a small smile.

“I won’t tell anyone you were nice to me,” I say. “Promise. As far as I’m concerned, you were a surly bastard today.”

“Well…those goddamned muffins were overcooked.”

“You ate two of them,” I protest.

“What the hell was I supposed to eat? Your other food’s not so hot, either. A man’s gotta have something, even if his choices are undercooked bacon or burnt muffins.”

I shake my head. “I was planning on taking you to that bar you like for lunch after your doctor’s appointment, but I guess you can just eat burnt muffins for lunch, too.”

He groans. “You’re killin’ me, Mia. Forcing an old man to exist on your hockey puck muffins.”

“Alright, I’ll take you to the bar. But you only get one beer.”

“Three and a shot of whiskey.”

“Two beers, final offer.”

He nods. “Done.”

I stand up and gather our breakfast dishes. “You keep complaining about my cooking and I’ll tell Anton you’re actually a sweetheart.”

He gives a long groan of disgust.

I grin. “I think we understand each other.”

I turn toward the kitchen and he calls my name. I look back at him.

“You better treat him right. He deserves for you to either open your heart all the way to him, or walk away. I walked away from Eileen, and I’ve missed her every day since. But she deserved better.”

His words reach a place deep inside me. I nod and say, “I understand.”

As I take care of our breakfast dishes, I think about what Dix said. He’s absolutely right. I’ve never been with a nice guy like Anton before. I don’t always know how to accept his kindness. But I want to figure it out. I want to leave my past far behind, and have something truly good in my life. Someone truly good.