Mia

I spot Anton immediately when he comes into Lucky Seven a few nights later. It’s almost as though I sense him, goosebumps erupting all over when I confirm he’s here.

An internal conflict starts. My first reaction is that I’m happy to see him. He was right the other night—I don’t have a single good friend in my life right now. I have Janice and my co-workers, who I don’t even know outside of work, and Anita, who accuses me of stealing her food and messing with the thermostat.

But I’m also painfully aware that Anton is one of the worst people for me to become friends with. Adam and I have found a semi-peaceful coexistence. I get to live apart from him as long as I give him what he wants when my grandpa’s quarterly nursing home bill is due.

I cried as I gave him a blow job last week. And damned if that bastard didn’t get a little harder in my mouth when he saw it. He enjoys humiliating me.

I’ve done it twice now since we separated, both times when my grandpa’s bill was overdue. And while I’m not sorry I did it, I am ashamed. My grandpa worked hard his whole life, but he and my grandma never had much to spare. If Adam didn’t pay for Goodman House, I wouldn’t be able to afford my grandpa’s care anywhere else. I can’t take care of him at home because, well, I don’t even have a home. And if I did, I’d have to leave him for work.

Grandpa sold his house to pay for grandma’s care when she was sick, and for her burial. It bankrupted him in every way. And I vowed then that I’d do whatever it took to make sure he’s well cared for forever.

Some people at a high-top table recognize Anton, and he stops to talk to them and take pictures. I sneak glances at them as I dry glasses with a worn white towel.

He has an easy smile. He looks people in the eye when they’re talking, never looking bored and always giving them time to finish before he speaks. When a guy’s phone dies just as he is about to take a selfie with Anton, Anton waits for him to borrow a friend’s phone and they pose again.

By the time he finds a stool at the crowded bar, I’ve got a glass of ice water with lemon waiting. He smiles as I set it in front of him.

“Thanks.”

“Good game last night.”

He arches his brows, looking impressed. “You watched?”

“Caught the highlights.” I shrug.

When I met Adam at a coffee shop near the campus of the college I was commuting to, I didn’t know anything about hockey. I learned by watching, and from wives of other players, and I came to love the game. This season, I’ve paid attention to games other teams are playing when they’re on at the bar, but I can’t bring myself to watch a Blaze game. Seeing Adam makes my stomach roll nervously.

A man I’ve already served eight beers to pushes his way up to the front of the bar.

“Another one, sweetie, and I’ll give you an extra tip if you shake ‘em.” He cackles and reaches for his wallet.

Anton bristles and turns toward him, about to say something when I beat him to it.

“I’ve got a tip for you,” I say. “Quit being an asshole.”

He laughs again. “Feisty, I like it.”

“Go sleep it off, dickhead,” Anton tells him with a glare.

He raises his hands innocently, takes his bottle of beer and lays a bill on the counter.

“Do you get that shit all the time?” Anton asks me.

“All the time. Goes with the job.”

He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be leaving here alone when you’re off.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“If a bunch of guys jump you in a dark alley, it could turn bad, Mia.”

I can’t help smiling at his concern. “I stay away from dark alleys. Don’t worry about me.”

“Can I give you a ride home later?”

A customer gestures to me and I hold up my finger, telling him to wait one second.

“I’m not off ‘til two again,” I tell Anton, looking over at the clock that reads 9:45 p.m.

“No problem. I’ll be waiting.”

I notice him get up and leave after he finishes his water, setting a twenty on the bar. I think about him as I eat my peanut butter sandwich on my break, though I’m supposed to be studying.

Why is he being so nice to me? Does he want something more than this?

I can’t give him more. Even though Adam and I will never live together or be a regular couple again, technically, we’re still married. I’m not a cheater. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll be stuck in this limbo forever—married, desperate to escape, but unable to.

I’m not the Mia my grandparents raised anymore. She was fierce. Strong. She once saw a boy being bullied because he was gay and took on both boys who were beating him up, coming home with two black eyes, a fat lip and a huge smile.

Now I’m pretty much alone and barely getting by. I’m chronically exhausted and afraid that Adam will track me down at Anita’s and get me kicked out. Then where would I go?

I can almost hear my grandma saying, “But what do you have, Mia?” She’d always ask me that when I was complaining about not having a date to a dance or not making a sports team.

I have food and a roof over my head, and I have school, which gives me hope of making a better life for myself someday. I have peace, now that I’m not being called a worthless whore by the one person who was supposed to love me most.

Work is steady after my break, and I end the night with enough cash to buy my grandpa something for Christmas and get the new shoes I desperately need for walking to work. When I lock the doors after the last customer leaves, I don’t see Anton standing outside.

Maybe he’s not coming. I think about it as I wipe down the dark wood bar and wash up the last glasses of the night. That would be for the best. While my new, almost people-free, life is lonely at times, it’s also simple. Predictable. Stable.

The key to un-fucking your life—get rid of the people. I smile about that as I leave Lucky Seven, locking the door behind me. Janice is still inside closing down the business end, but I learned the hard way that if I say goodnight to her, she just glares at me like I made her lose count of the cash she’s tallying, and then dramatically starts over.

A dark Range Rover pulls up to the curb, and I instinctively take a few steps away.

“Hey, it’s me,” Anton says. “Got your seat warmed up and waiting.”

I smile in spite of myself. People may be complicated, but heated leather seats in downtown Chicago during late November are not. And it’s kind of nice to have an attractive man offer me a ride while knowing he’s not expecting sex.

Anton does know that, right?

“You look deep in thought,” he says as I fasten my seat belt.

“Oh…it’s nothing.” I clear my throat. “I mean, I was just thinking it’s nice of you to do this when you aren’t getting anything in return.”

He laughs, and it’s a deep, sexy sound. There are lines at the corners of his eyes when he turns to glance at me.

“That’s your nice of way of telling me you’re not fucking me?”

I nod and grin sheepishly.

“I don’t expect anything in return for doing something for a friend,” he says.

“Are we friends, then?”

“I hope so.”

I swallow hard, working up the courage to ask him something that’s been on my mind.

“Look, I know this may sound crazy, but I need to put it out there. Did Adam put you up to any of this?”

Anton lowers his brows and turns to me. “Up to what? Giving you a ride home?”

“No…into being nice to me. Making me trust you. Maybe trying to get me in bed.”

I know the answer from the flash of hurt in his blue eyes. Still, he confirms it as he rolls to a stop at a red light.

“Hell no. Like I said, I can’t stand Adam. He’s an arrogant prick. He’s also a sloppy player. And he…” He shakes his head. “Nevermind.”

“I know about the cheating; it’s okay to say whatever it is. Honestly, Adam’s beyond disappointing me.”

He taps a thumb on the wheel as he considers what I said. “Yeah, I just don’t fucking get it. Especially when he had you at home.”

I laugh softly. “Well, that’s nice of you to say.”

The turn he takes isn’t the most direct route to my place, but I don’t mind.

“It’s true,” he continues. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but I’ve wondered how Adam ended up with you since the first time I saw you.”

“When was that? Must’ve been right after we moved here.”

“Yeah, at the welcome reception for him. You had on this green dress and…yeah, let’s just say I noticed you.”

I look over and see that he’s avoiding eye contact with me. While I find his confession cute, it also reinforces what I already suspected—Anton’s friendship with me is based on attraction.

“Look, what you see when you look at me is nothing but wrapping paper,” I say. “It’s how I look. Nothing more. It’s not who I am.”

He cringes. “I wasn’t trying to…I probably said that wrong. I shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”

“It’s okay. I haven’t gotten a non-creepy compliment in a long time. It’s just a sensitive area for me.”

“Why, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Men have never cared what was inside the package, I guess. Adam didn’t. It was all about how I looked. I gained twelve pounds once and he flipped his shit. Told me that wasn’t what he signed up for.”

“Jesus, what a dick.”

“Yeah.”

Anton finds a parking place not far from Anita’s building and eases his car into it.

“Well, I have a confession to make,” he says as he double checks his parking job in the rearview mirror.

“Here it comes.” I roll my eyes playfully. “There’s a body in the back of the car right now, isn’t there?”

“Nope, I dumped the body before I picked you up.”

“Thanks for that.” I say with a light laugh. His response was unexpected for someone I’ve only seen as serious, but I can appreciate anyone with a dry sense of humor.

He turns to face me. “I noticed how attractive you were when I saw you at events with Adam. I’m only human—I thought you were stunning every time. But you really got me at that Christmas party the team had for foster kids.”

“Two years ago?” I ask, not remembering any details.

He nods. “All the other wives were handing out presents and posing for pictures, chasing after the celebrities who were there. And when I looked for you, I thought you hadn’t come at first, because you were nowhere to be found. But then I saw you at a table in the corner, coloring with a kid who was too shy to sit on Santa’s lap.”

“Bryson.” I smile. “I remember.”

Anton’s gaze softens. “See that? You even remember his name. That’s who you are, Mia. And it sets you apart from all the other women I see with nice…wrapping paper, as you call it.”

I’m so embarrassed by the lump in my throat that I look away, trying to gather myself. It’s been so damn long since anyone said something like that about me. Years. I think my grandparents are the only ones who have ever made me feel like Anton just did. Like I’m a good person who deserves…better.

He seems to sense how I’m feeling, and he fills in the silent gap.

“I’m traveling tomorrow for a game, but I uh, got you this…”

He reaches onto his dash and hands me a gift card. I look down and see it’s for Uber, and it’s for $100. I give him a puzzled look.

“To get you to and from work,” he explains.

I set it back on the dash. “I can’t take this.”

He tries to hand it back. “Yes, you can. Please.”

I take a deep breath and face him. “Listen. I used to be an independent person. I didn’t have much, but I took care of myself. And then I met Adam, and over time I became someone I didn’t recognize anymore. I’m getting back to who I was.”

“It’s not about making you dependent on me, Mia. It’s just about you getting home safe and warm. I’d drive you myself if I was in town.”

I push away his hand with the card in it. “The offer is appreciated, really. But I’ll be fine.”

Anton opens his door at the same time I open mine. He walks around the car and meets me on the sidewalk.

“You’re not coming in,” I tell him, my eyes wide and my tone firm.

He smiles. “I’m walking you to the door.”

“Oh.”

I fish my keys out of my backpack and unlock the building’s front door.

“Have a good trip,” I tell him.

“Thanks.” He clears his throat to get my attention. “I’m gonna leave this right here.” He sets the Uber card down on the wide concrete railing to the front steps of the building. “And you can either take it, or leave it for someone to find.”

“Anton.” I turn to glare at him, but he’s already down the stairs, pulling his black wool coat closed.

“Mia.” He gives me a warm smile and then walks to his car.

I pick up the gift card and slide it into my pocket, because my grandparents didn’t raise a fool.