The Perfect Storm 2

Chapter 172

The rain has started to pour and my white and red dress is no longer as flowy as it was in the bright and cloudless sky. Now, my dress is heavy with raindrops and sagging down over my knees. 

My mother is behind us this time but I feel so liberated to be on my way home from church. Seeing the way Miles is treated everywhere he goes, only makes me want to hide away with him, dress the way he does, and be with only him in one corner for the rest of our lives. 

His hand is warm but it's lifeless as I hold It and watch the gaze of his eyes falling on the harsh road beneath us.

"Miles . . ." I begin but he doesn't hear me and I decide to let the words die.

"I'm okay, Madison. Let it go." He tells me all of a sudden. I look at him slightly surprised, my hand lets go of his as my mind is still fumbling over what he just said and what just happened.

"You don't need to protect me, I'm fully capable of doing that myself." He says, his voice harsh. He spits onto the floor far away from us.

"I'm sorry." He finally bursts.

"I don't know what happens now, and I . . . I don't want to lose you again, Madison but I know that I still could." He says, his eyes telling me about every worry he has.

"Because . . ." He stops for a second, his eyes darting down to the floor as we've now stopped walking. I glance quickly behind me to see that My mother has stopped walking too and even though it's pouring rain, Betty has somehow convinced her to stand and talk in the rain with her. I turn back to look at Miles whose eyes are still fixated on the ground.

"I have to go back to New York." He says and I gulp.

"W . . . what?" I ask, trying to swallow the dryness in my throat.

"Yeah." He rubs the back of his neck.

"But I thought you said—"

"I know." He stops, looking me in the eyes. His eyebrows are a strong black and so are his long eyelashes. His skin is slightly tanned which always makes me think of the self-tanner bottle I found in his bathroom. 

He rubs his thick fingers through his dark-brown hair that now looks almost black in the rain.

"But they approved my submission or whatever the fuck and I . . . I can't get out of it now." He pulls at the ends of his hair before letting his hand fall back to his side.

"Can't you do it from home or something, then you could stay here—"

"They didn't have that option when I applied." He says, looking down at the floor as if he knows about the hurt that's rushing into my veins.

"So we're back to square one?" I ask him, long-distance relationships are something I never thought I'd do, it seemed too alien and now it's happening to me, and with Miles, with someone so special; so important to my life.

"No." He says, his eyes looking up at me, his whole face moving toward me.

"We'll do long distance . . . or, you can . . . you can there with me, have an apartment already and it's perfect for—"

"Miles." I stop him, my voice gently, pushing him into the direction of a full stop, a stop that I don't know what to do with. I don't know what to say, think or how to act.

"I just got used to Washington. I can't move to a place I don't like." I say softly, looking at his eyes.

"Miles." I breathe again heavily before continuing, "Can we . . . not talk about this? At least for now?" I ask him, looking up at his eyes. I glance at my mother who's behind us, waving Betty off. Miles's dark hazel eyes peer into mine and he gives me a firm yet barely noticeable nod.

THIRTY MINUTES LATER WE'RE finally inside my mother's house where it's seemingly a little colder than the outside rain and slight wind have to offer.

"Madison, can I talk to you for a second?" My mother asks sweetly as my hand rests on the door handle. I nod at her before turning back and walking into the kitchen, watching the headlights of Miles's car shine through the window.

"Don't bring Miles to church again. Not here." My mother surprises me by saying.

"What do you mean?" I shake my head with a small smile on my face, trying to show the nonsense that clearly just came out of her mouth.

"Did Betty say something? Did her words get o you?" I ask my mother, the anger starting to slowly boil at me. How could she say something like that?

"Madison." My mom tries to calm me down but the nerves inside of me are riled up, especially after today.

"Miles is not my dad, he's not like that, he would never hurt me."

"it's too late for that, Madison, he already has. You're not pure anymore . . . A woman's duty is to stay pure until her marriage and Miles failed to help you do that. That's what I was told as s little girl and that's what I told you to do; an oath I thought you would keep." My mom lets out a deep breath.

"Madison, listen . . ." She takes a breath again but her eyes stare at the floor beneath us.

"Your light was important to me, it's important to the generations before us. We all married boys who went to church . . ." She lets out a breath and her eyes look watery, her shoulders slump down and I can tell what she's about to say is difficult on her which eases my nerves.

"Until I screwed it up." She finally stops.

"I met your father in an unconventional way, and I always hoped that a least our little girl would continue on the path that our family has always made, generations before us. I always hoped that I was just that small blip in the road; the small mistake that could be forgotten and corrected by you, but now that you've carried on the mistake I made . . . I can't turn anything back. Which is why, Madison . . . I need him to at least not be in front of the people of this town—"

"You mean hidden?" I ask her harshly, my brow raised and my eyes teary.

"No, mom." I shake my head angrily.

"I'm not hiding him, we're staying together and there's nothing that Betty . . . or you can say," I tell my mom, grabbing my handbag, and walking out the door.