Heartstrings

(14) Mitchell

Mitchell

He had been happy coming home to his house he and Kelly spent so much time decorating – well, mostly him following orders and her happily choosing decors of her very own choice.

He's seen the white-tipped pinecones and wooden ornaments adorning the Christmas tree that was slightly crooked at the top (according to her it was the flaw that made it attractive). It wasn't the colorful Christmas decorations the Parrs' home had. They had iridescent, blinking lights whereas Kelly chose a yellow one.

The entirety of his house has a common theme of white, powdery snow, given Kelly mostly opted for white-tipped decors. It was way better. His house never looked elegant than it is now.

However, as he went to join his neighbor, he just come to know that Christmas Eve at the Parrs has spiraled into a disaster.

Anguish rested on his gut.

Jake had a busted lip, Annie was crying, Karen was comforting her grandchildren and Robert simply doesn't know what to do. The rest of their family went home.

Kelly is nowhere in sight.

He knew where to find her though. And whether she needs him or not, he's going to her.

Mitchell pushes the door of her bedroom open, squinting his eyes at the slight darkness. It would've been pitch dark if not for the streetlights streaming in from the window. It was quiet. But not completely quiet. There were soft sniffles regularly cracking the silence.

He steps further inside, finding Kelly in a corner, her knees to her chest and arms around her legs. It wasn't the first time he's seen her curled up in her corner. However, the sight squeezes his chest tighter than it has back then.

He padded toward her nightstand and flicked the lamp on.

Kelly watches him.

"Hi," he murmurs, sinking on the foot of the bed.

"Hi," she says, her voice raspy and small.

It tugged at his chest.

"Is everyone gone?" She wipes a hand across her cheek.

Mitchell nods.

She gives her cheek another swipe then stood, ironing her dress with her palms. "Good. You're lucky you were not on time."

"I wish I was."

"God, no. It was terrible. It's a good thing you haven't witnessed the whole thing." She forced herself to laugh but it only came out as a hiccup. She walks toward the nightstand, her army-green satin dress a beautiful silhouette draping around the planes and crevices of her body. She plucks the half-finished champagne flute from her nightstand and walked toward her window.

He doesn't know what to say so he kept quiet.

"I'm pretty sure you already got the gist of tonight's debacle though." She sips on her champagne, the streetlights slanting over her tear-stained face.

He itched to touch her.

To hold her.

"You know, it really was a good thing that everything went south between us before you proposed with your mom's ring," she says quietly.

He felt his brows knitted together. "Wait, Kelly. How did you know?"

She visibly stiffened. "I just, um, we've been together since high school and I know proposal will come eventually," she stammers, fiddling with the skirt of her dress.

"You're lying." He stood up, his tall frame overshadowing hers.

"Mitchell, it's just–"

"How did you know I was going to propose with my mom's ring?" He took a step forward.

She swallows, eyes growing wide.

Mitchell has planned to propose the night after she broke up with him. He never told Jake – not even his best pal. He was so careful about it. If there were anyone who knew, it was just him and–

"Your mom," she murmurs quietly.

He frowned in confusion.

"She told me that you're going to take me to the outdoor movie park on Friday, August 15th. And then you'll take me to the restaurant, out the back to one of the private booths right next to the fountain." There was a wistful ghost of a smile on her lips, her face tender like she was picturing herself right in that one night that never happened. Her gazed dropped to her feet. "And, you know, I freaked out."

Mitchell calls her bluff. She doesn't look like someone who denied it because she freaked out. "Bullshit. What else did she tell you?"

"That's all," she gulps.

He takes another step forward.

She blinks. "That you deserve more."

His jaw tensed. "I want to know what she told you exactly, Kelly."

It sounded more like a plea than a demand in his ears.

"Okay." She looks down to her champagne and down it with a few gulps. "She, uh, she told me you deserve better. That I," she pauses, longer than necessary but he waited, "that I don't deserve you."

His blood ran cold. "What?"

She meets his eyes, forcing a smile on her face. "It's true. I worked part-time at our Antique Shop. Writing was the only thing I was good at. Which was pathetic in the eyes of the town's skeptics."

His hands fisted on his sides. "You know damn well that's not true."

She turns away.

He pressed a hand frustratedly over his forehead. "Fuck, what else did she say?"

"It doesn't matter," she whispers, her voice threatening to crack.

Mitchell closed the remaining distance between them, tilting her chin with his finger so he could see her face. "Tell me, Kelly."

Her eyes glistened, her tears brimming. "She said you need someone like Annie. And that if I love you at all I should give you a chance to be with someone better."

His teeth grinded in his mouth, clashing with another as he forces a question out of his mouth. "Is this why you broke up with me?"

A tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm sorry."

He tugged her so close to his chest he might have crushed her. But he needed his arms around her. "God, Kelly." Emotions cluttered his chest. He couldn't tell which dominates the others, but there was anger and hurt.

So, so much hurt.

She sobbed to his chest, her hands fisting his shirt.

He pulled her closer until there was no more room for air and light between them. Nothing to keep them apart. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Kelly."

They stayed still, not sure who was saying sorry to whom because they had the same splitting pain in common. Then and now – that he's certain of.

When her sobs turned into soft hiccups, he still held on.

"Mitchell?" She whispers, her voice still coming out gravelly.

"Hmm?"

She steps back an inch so she can see his face. "I know this is out of the blue, but, can I crash at your place?"

He arched a brow.

"After tonight, I think my mother doesn't want to see my face," she kids, a hint of bitterness in her voice. "I'm considering myself officially kicked out. For now."

His finger brushes over her cheekbone. "Sure."