Guess That Is How I Know You

Chapter XXII

October 22, 2016

What to write when you do not feel like writing at all?

I have had a lot to think about and it is all because of one stupid advice from someone I should not even have given a second of my time.

I was already beating myself up internally over my sort of relationship.

It has been almost two months and Cecilia is still joking about how I am her hot young neighbor she is screwing, and I am starting to come to terms that is all I will ever get to be for her.

Was it stupid of me to think we were more, or at least had the potential to be more?

With no one to ask those sorts of questions I felt hopeless about ever getting the answers I so desperately need.

I could not possibly talk about this with Evelyn or Lucy, obviously, and the only other people Cecilia and I had in common was Nero and, sort of, my mother, but not like I would ever talk about that with my mother.

I knew the second I told my mother how insecure I was feeling about Cecilia there would be no turning back and she would forever hate my former professor—even if my hopes were fainting about Cecilia and I lasting, they were still there, in the back of my mind, which meant there was no way I would risk my mother not getting along with her.

And then there was one.

Nero should be my go-to, right? He was someone I had confided in many times before. The father figure I was left with since my own dad had passed, and yet, now that he was in fact in the position of being a father figure I seemed to need so much, I did not feel comfortable talking about my angst with him.

He was no longer the family friend who then turned out to be my professor, and later my mentor. Now he was my mother's boyfriend, and I had no idea just how open they were with each other.

There was still one person, though. One person I had in common with Cecilia, but not someone I would have ever even fathom to ask for help. Yet she found just the way to come back in our lives—well, more like my life—, and mess even more with the thoughts already going on inside my head.

I really thought I would never have to deal with one Miranda Myers ever again, but that was clearly wishful thinking on my side.

Our city was not all that small, but the economic and social circles we belonged to should have been reason enough for me to at least be aware of that possibility—not like I would have expected to cross paths with her the way I did thought.

I had a doctor's appointment a couple days ago, and there she was, at the waiting room with her younger daughter. I could understand what Cecilia had seen on the woman. Even if she had been an asshole to the professor, it was clear that single action did not define her.

She was caring to her daughters, at least that was what I gathered from watching her from afar. The kid was clearly nervous about being at a clinic, how ironic though, to have a doctor for a mother and yet fear going to a doctor's appointment.

They were using matching sundresses—kinda corny, to be honest—, and if I did not know any better, I would say that woman would not ever be able to hurt someone.

Miranda's eyes matched the smile on her lips as she watched her daughter play with her mother's hands.

Maybe it was the staring or the fact the receptionist got my attention by calling me by my name, but nevertheless, she noticed I was there.

Our eyes met and although I was half expecting her demeanor to change when she acknowledged my presence, it did not—at least not in the way I would have expected it to.