**Chapter 9** Mick burst through the door just before five, her energy radiating like a much-needed sunbeam after a long, dreary day. The relief that washed over me was palpable; I had been holed up in Hockey House, spiraling deeper into my own thoughts. I could have taken my car to escape, but as the snow fell thicker like a relentless avalanche after breakfast, I hesitated. My little Honda Civic was hardly built for battling Colorado winters; the thought of skidding across ice made my heart race with anxiety. But I never imagined I’d trade the Southern California sun for this wintery chaos. At least there was a brief intermission in my isolation when Asher popped in for a quick visit and Baxter later graced us with his presence. Yet it was still far too quiet, and I had turned to binge-watching a romance flick, only to switch to a mindless action movie that gave me the chills. Eventually, I settled on a law drama that wasn’t half bad, though every courtroom moment gnawed at my insides, stirring painful memories of Theo’s high-flying defense attorney uncle. My gaze kept drifting to the bag sprawled on the floor, a reminder of my reckless decision. My stomach twisted in knots as I remembered the adrenaline of sneaking out of Theo’s house with all his poker winnings. Each time I thought about it, a wave of guilt washed over me. It felt more like a betrayal than a victory. “Hey,” Mick’s voice practically danced into the room, pulling me from my gloom. She leaned against Liam’s doorway, hands on her hips, fiery determination radiating from her. “We need to get you out of this house. You’ve been moping all day. It’s time for some greasy comfort food!” I raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on my face. “Fatty, greasy food is supposed to make us feel better?” With a laugh, she yanked me off the bed, practically dragging me down the stairs. “No! Spending quality time with your best friend will—though the food won’t hurt either.” “Fair enough,” I muttered, a grin creeping onto my lips. But as I donned my jacket, my fingers trembled slightly—a reminder of my tangled thoughts, laced with the fear of her asking about Theo. The breakup was still raw after my harrowing conversation with Liam this morning. He had taken the news surprisingly well, his kindness a soothing balm amid the hurricane of my emotions. Yet the thought of reliving that experience made my heart race. He had understood, assured me it was not my fault, that Theo had hidden his true self until I was already caught in his web. How many others had fallen victim to the same, unaware of the darkness lurking beneath a charming facade? Mick wouldn’t react with the same calm as Liam. I could envision her storming off to Fontana in a fit of rage, ready to claw Theo’s eyes out. The thought of her standing against him, or Matt for that matter, sent shivers down my spine. Matt wouldn’t just be angry; he’d be devastated. Theo was his best friend, and loyalty ran thick between them. I could relate that bond to my own friendship with Mikayla. She wouldn’t sit idly by if someone hurt me—though facing Ethan would be a whole different battle. The shame spiraled within me as I replayed my actions, the decision to take Theo’s money igniting something darker inside me. In my fury over his neglect and his treatment of me as an object, I felt justified at that moment. Yet now, the weight of it threatened to suffocate me, festering with uncertainty. I had spent a little on gas and breakfast today, but every cent felt stained with guilt. What was I supposed to do with it? Return it? That would mean contacting Theo again, and the thought filled me with dread. Or maybe burn it, rid myself of this tainted reminder? But that wouldn’t be right either. It represented freedom—freedom I so desperately craved. I could use it to escape, to jet off to Jamaica and find my mother. But then she’d want explanations, and I couldn’t bear that pressure. “Are you coming?” Mikayla's voice pierced through my spiraling thoughts, her hand lightly nudging me back to reality. I jumped into the Uber with her, biting back a wince as I buckled in. Each movement brought a hint of discomfort, a constant reminder of my situation. Thankfully, Mick seemed oblivious, chatting animatedly about her marketing class and her newfound ambition to become a sports agent. I couldn’t help but admire her fiery spirit; she was fierce, someone I would want by my side if I was an athlete. As the car pulled up in front of a beloved pizzeria, my stomach grumbled loudly, breaking the tension. Mick laughed, thanking the driver before guiding me inside, her arm linked with mine. “You’re gonna love this pizza! And save room for dessert; they have these salted caramel choc pots that are heavenly.” Her enthusiasm was infectious, and as we settled down at our table, I couldn’t help feeling a sense of normalcy—so different from the chaos swirling in my life. “I usually go for the chicken and cranberry pizza, it’s fancy and delicious,” she said, winking at me. “But I thought you were a spicy girl? How about we go for tandoori chicken?” Laughter bubbled up as I imagined the fiery flavor melting my taste buds. “Let’s do your favorite! But we have to each get a dessert. I’m not passing up Mississippi Mud Cake.” Mick’s eyes practically sparkled, her excitement infectious. “Deal! But I must confess, I miss your baking terribly. Your white chocolate brownies? To die for! And your blueberry cheesecake?” She squeezed my hand, her voice tinged with genuine nostalgia. “And we can’t forget about those cakes!” I glanced around nervously, noticing the odd glances we were attracting from nearby booths. “Let’s tone it down a bit, shall we?” I nudged her foot under the table. She laughed, her energy effortlessly brightening the room. “I’m just trying to pull you out of your funk! Pretend it’s just us and there’s no drama.” “Thank god,” I said softly, relieved. “So, how’s life in the Hockey House?” I prompted, eager to hear her stories to distract from my own troubles. “It’s good, but temporary,” she admitted, a hint of unease flickering in her eyes. “I can’t stay there forever.” “Why not?” I teased, trying to keep the mood light, but she wore a scrunchy face that hinted at something deeper. “It’s awesome having Ethan around—like epic,” she confessed, her grin returning in full force. “Waking up with him is my new favorite thing.” I smiled, genuinely happy for her, wishing only the best for her and Ethan. But the smile faded as she continued, her expression shifting. “But, you know... guys can be gross, right? Sharing a bathroom with Casey’s—” “Oh god, don’t!” I interrupted, laughter bubbling beneath the surface as she waved her hands dramatically. “You have no idea! The guy’s dumps are lethal!” She leaned close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “And then Baxter and his toenail clippings? I mean, really? And the worst happened the other day. I walked in on Asher—” My mouth dropped in disbelief. “Where?!” “In his man cave! He was just…uh…you know, on the couch!” She shuddered, her face twisting in disgust. “I didn’t even have the chance to turn away!” Laughter erupted between us, an explosion of joy that helped peel away the heaviness looming over my heart. As the waiter brought our drinks, I couldn’t help but savor the moment. “You know,” I said slowly, unsure how to voice the thoughts dancing in my head. “Moving in with you in Nolan...” Her eyes lit up as if she had just been offered the world. “Do it! Come on, I can’t live with those guys forever!” I chuckled softly, but the truth was—to move, to uproot everything again felt daunting. “Yeah, but what if I just… want to figure myself out right now?” Mikayla nodded as if she understood, sipping on her drink. “I totally get that. But life is better with friends, trust me. Come live in Nolan. We can escape together when needed!” As if summoned by fate, Mikayla's phone started ringing, jolting my mind from its reverie. When she answered, her bright smile faded. “Theo,” she mouthed, her face shifting into concern. Panic flooded through me as she handed me the phone. My heart raced while I forced a cheery tone. “Hey, Mom.” “Baby girl! Where are you?” Her voice echoed with surprise, washing over me like a wave. Tension gripped me as I struggled to keep my voice casual. “I’m in Colorado visiting Mikayla.” “I’ve been calling for two days! Why didn’t you tell me?” “Spontaneous decision,” I deflected, avoiding the truth nestled beneath my bravado. “I called Theo,” she said, pulling a thread of fear through my heart. “He said you were…at work?” “Oh,” I swallowed hard, caught in a chokehold of regret. “We broke up.” “Aw, baby.” Concern lined her voice, and I could imagine her face morphing into one of sympathetic understanding, wishing she could cradle me in her arms. “It just didn’t work out. We want different things,” I managed to say, the weariness tainting my words. I couldn’t reveal the reality of what had happened. Her next words were filled with warmth. “This feeling won’t last. Just give your heart a chance to heal.” “I am.” I nodded, my voice thick. “Get a new phone, please.” The insistence carried a weight of worry. “I will, I promise.” My stomach twisted, a wave of guilt rolling in. After the call, Mikayla looked at me with wide eyes. “You left your phone at a truck stop?!” “Yes!” I burst out, relieved to have laughter break the tension again, if only slightly. But as the pizza arrived, filling the air with delicious slices of distraction, I realized I was at a crossroads. The conversation shifted away from Theo, yet lingering uncertainty surrounded my next steps. Mick took a deep breath, catching my attention. “About Theo... any chance of reconciliation?” I swallowed, the weight of honesty heavy on my chest. “Yeah. Some big ones.” Her sad smile hit hard, but we quickly sank into the deliciousness of our meal, the noise of the restaurant blending around us. As I chewed, my mind twisted tightly in knots—echoing her question as anxiety clawed at my heart. What was I going to do next?