Page 31 of Moments in Ink
Zia
Istood on my front porch and watched the delivery man walk away, entering his car again, arms now devoid of food.
Our dinner was at Meredith’s house, and I wasn’t there. I had left. Hurt, yes. But I had left.
I couldn’t believe that I had actually walked away like that.
No, this was not happening. No way.
I swallowed hard and stomped my way back to her house.
Meredith stood there, the bag of food in her hand, her face pale, holding the edge of the door. I didn’t know what to say.
“You came back,” Meredith said.
“That’s what Beast says to Belle before he dies. Spoiler alert.”
Meredith frowned, and I didn’t blame her, I wasn’t making any sense.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re sorry because you have no idea what I’m saying? Or are you really sorry?”
“I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that. But maybe this isn’t working out.”
“Fuck that. No. You and I are going to talk this over. Do you get me?”
“Zia.”
“We’re putting the food in the fridge because I don’t want it to go bad because it’s expensive and I love it, and I refuse to ruin it.”
“Zia.”
“Don’t say my name in that condescending tone. You are not the boss of me. We’re going to talk this out. That man scared you. Hell, he scared me. And I don’t like that. I don’t like that he made me feel as if I had no control for a moment. And now you’re trying to take away my control as well. I’m not letting that happen.”
“Zia.”
“Again. Stop saying my name unless I’m fucking you. Okay?”
That made her laugh, and I took the food from her and stomped away. My side hurt, the ink was sore, and all I wanted to do was eat food, fuck my girlfriend, and actually be able to call her my girlfriend. Fuck it, we were going to talk about this. Even if I had to scream my way to make it work.
I shoved the food into the fridge, knocking over a creamer as I did, grateful that the lid was still on. I put it back, slammed the fridge door, and whirled on Meredith, who was standing so close behind me that I could feel the heat of her on my body.
“You don’t get to push me away.”
“Maybe it’s for your own good,” Meredith said.
“Fuck that.”
“Zia.”
I growled. Actually growled. “What did I say? Is your mouth on my pussy? Is mine on yours? No. Then you don’t get to say my name right now.”
That made her lips quirk into a smile, but I was too angry to smile back. “We’re going to talk. Something that we should have done anyway. I know we’ve both been scared. I saw the fear in your eyes, and that’s why I’m back. Because we shouldn’t walk away when we’re scared. We shouldn’t walk away when we’re angry. They say you’re not supposed to even fall asleep angry, because what if one of us doesn’t wake up? So we’re going to talk.”
She started saying my name, then stopped, snapping her mouth shut.
“That’s what I thought. No mouth on pussy, no saying my name.”