Beatrice has just graduated college and returned home to help at her family business: a tattoo shop. She isn't expecting to fall in love for the first time, especially when Michael is so not her type, but one date changes everything. Tattoos everywh...
I sat in my car outside his coffee shop for probably twenty minutes before I got the courage to face him. I was rehearsing all the things I wanted to tell him. I checked my makeup one last time in the mirror and flattened a few flyaways before I opened the door.
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I wore the thigh-high boots that I had borrowed from Siena and a fitted black dress with a cardigan. There is no way that he wouldn't notice how good I looked. I plastered a smile on my face and entered the coffee shop. There was an unfamiliar face behind the counter but I continued on to the basement level. I took a deep breath before opening the door.
When I stepped inside Michael spun around to face me. His face immediately broke into a grin, but quickly returned to a solemn look.
He had bags under his eyes and he looked pale. It made my chest hurt to see him in such a state.
"Do you want to sit down?" He asked, breaking the silence.
I nodded and took a seat on the sofa a good distance away from him. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea about why I was here.
"I'm sorry about last night," he said sheepishly as he stared at the floor and picked at a scab on his knuckle.
What the hell happened? No, Bea. Stop. You don't care what happened to his hands.
"It's okay," I shrugged.
He must be feeling horrible today after how drunk he sounded last night.
"I don't want you to think I came here because I want to get back together," I finally started after more awkward silence.
I waited for him to acknowledge what I said before continuing, "I'm only here because I don't want to have anything left unsaid. I want closure."
He nodded slowly, biting his lip.
"First off, I guess I'll give you the chance to explain your side of things," I said, feeling rather mature about letting him go first.
He took a deep breath before starting to talk.
"Okay, um...well, first off, I just want to say how sorry I am and that I never meant to hurt you," he finally looked up at me, "I was just really scared that if I told you, you would love me less. For all the things that I had done in the past. The mistakes that I'd made. And I swear to you. I am not that person anymore. I was a stupid, stupid kid. I was mad at the world and I fell into the wrong crowd. But, Bea, listen, yes, this impacted my life but it does not reflect who I choose to be today. I would never ever make any of those mistakes again. I swear!"
"Well I don't see how lying to me reflects that you're a different person..." I took a deep breath before continuing, "Why were you in jail, what did you do?" I asked, trying not to sound bitter.
"I," he paused to clear his throat, "well like I said, I was a stupid kid. I was angry with my dad. He had moved us across the globe for some 'amazing job' when he ended up unemployed the first month we got here. It was like nothing had changed. We were still just as poor. So I started hanging out with people I'd met at school. I'd do anything not be home with my drunk dad. These kids I hung out with, they would--we would--break into houses that were empty. You know, beach vacation rentals and stuff. We would stay there, throw parties, get high or drunk, or both... And we would take what we wanted. I would pawn what I could to help my mom keep up with bills...We were invincible like nothing could stop us. And no one did, for over a year."
He stared off in thought before continuing.
"Well, until this one time we boosted a car that was parked in the garage. We were just going to go for a joy ride. Only, I guess the owners had come back while we were out and had reported the car as stolen. I guess they had the antitheft device because we were staying at another house when the police showed up. One of the guys I was with had a gun and he went outside pointing it right at the cops--" he stopped, shaking his head as he closed his eyes at the memory, "Everyone else ran to escape when the cops started shooting. But I froze. I watched as he fell to the ground. All I wanted to do was help him. He was bleeding, but the cops were screaming at me to stay down. No one was even helping him, and he was dying..."
There was another long pause. He finally cleared his throat and glanced up at me.
"Anyways, I was arrested, as you know. I was still a minor, only just turning 17, but it was complicated. First, they were going to deport me since I was here on a visa, then they wanted to try me as an adult. In the end, they gave me two years. I would spend the first year in juvenile detention until I hit eighteen. I was supposed to be transferred to prison afterward, but I got paroled out because I gave up the names of everyone that had been there."
He took another pause, massaging his temple, "I was released on my 18th birthday, but my parents wouldn't let me come home. Well, mostly my dad..."
"My parole officer, Mr. Hood, let me stay with him. He helped me get a job since I had already received my GED while in juvie. That's how I got into the coffee business. That's how I met Calum, and then Ashton and Luke through him. Calum is Mr. Hood's son," he explained.
He wiped his hands on his jeans anxiously as he waited for me to say something.
I mulled over everything he had shared and was still left angry.
"I swear, I haven't done anything remotely illegal. I haven't even gotten a speeding ticket. I haven't touched drugs or alcohol, well except for last night, I got a little drunk--" I cut him off.
"A little?" I raised my brows incredulously.
"Okay, a lot drunk," he admitted embarrassed.
"I don't understand why you would think that I would love you any less. You were a teenager. That was almost 10 years ago Michael! I thought you knew me better than that. If you did, you wouldn't have felt the need to hide your past from me. To lie to me for months. If you had just told me from the start none of this would've happened."
"I know, I know," he added, "and I'm sorry. I wish I could go back."
I scoffed, shaking my head in frustration.
"You really hurt me. I trusted you. I let you know every detail of my past. Shared with you my secrets. When were you going to tell me? Were you ever going to tell me?" I asked bitterly.
He sighed and shrugged, "I don't know when I was going to tell you. I just didn't want to ruin things."
"That's the thing. It wouldn't have ruined anything if you had just told me. If I didn't have to hear it from your father..."
I paused as a sudden realization came to me.
"That means that you had your friends lie to me as well. How can I ever trust that you didn't lie to me or keep anything else from me? Fuck!"
I sighed in exasperation, "You curated yourself into the perfect boyfriend and let me fall in love with you," I said, my jaw tense with anger.
"I swear, Bea, I never lied about anything," he pleaded, scooting closer to me on the sofa, "I'm still me. I promise, I'm no different than the person you loved last week. Please, just tell me what I can do to fix this?"
"I don't think you can, Michael," I said flatly, grabbing his sweatshirt that was looped around my purse, "Here."
"No," he shook his head pained, "keep it."
I huffed and left it on the sofa as I stood up.
"I'm leaving for a while, please don't try to contact me. I need some space to move on," I said watching his face fall.
"Look, I understand that you need space. And I'll give you that. I'll give you anything...Just know that I'll still be here when you get back. I do love you, Beatrice. So deeply," he said softly.
I struggled not to have the final word, but I figured I might regret it if I opened my mouth so I simply turned on my heel and walked out. And I didn't look back.
