He nods calmly. “Mateo told me.”
I nod, trying to think how to word this without setting off any of Mateo’s alarms, should he watch this footage in the morning while he drinks his coffee. “It’s not easy being the focus of a Morelli obsession—or so I gather—and she’s been there with two of them. One being Mateo. So she’s been through some shit. She always bounces back, but you have to wonder… I mean, I’m not sure how many more times she can do that and maintain that positivity you all like about her. Everyone has a breaking point, right? Even Mia has to have one somewhere.”
Rafe watches me for a moment, but there’s no indication of his thoughts. The wheels are turning, but there’s no hint, not a single one, of what he might be thinking.
“I know I won’t be around to see it, but I hope whatever her future holds, it’s gentler on her than her past has been.”
He stares at me, hard. Finally, his jaw locks like he’s lost whatever inward battle he was fighting and he asks, “Why did you do it? If you care about her, if you’re worried about what happens to her, why would you do what you did?”
I flatten myself against the mattress, sinking into the pit of bad decisions. “It didn’t have anything to do with Mia. I know I did it to her, but it didn’t… It’s not like I hated her or anything. I had no ill will toward her. I treated her like a casualty in my imaginary war. She was just the person I had to step on in order to accomplish my end. I was being an asshole, that’s the short answer. A selfish asshole.”
“Is that who you are?” he asks, simply.
He asks that like it’s a simple question, but it’s not. At least, it doesn’t feel like it is. Maybe admitting it just isn’t pleasant. I think it’s the way he asks, though. He’s not asking if I do selfish things, he’s asking if what I did is who I am. If I would do the same thing over again, if I had a second chance. He’s asking if I’m a monster, or just some lost little lamb who made a horrible, desperate mistake to save her own wool.
Thing is, I’m no lost lamb.
I care about Mia, and I threw her to her dangerous ex who made her miserable when they were together, just so I could hold onto a relationship that had already died and a comfortable lifestyle I apparently could’ve kept either way. I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew she could end up hurt or worse; I even had a week to sleep on the decision. I sat at the breakfast table across from her that morning, knowing I could stop her from leaving, stop him from getting his hands on her, save her from further hurt she didn’t deserve.
I didn’t stop it.
I care about Mateo and I’m going to stand by and let these assholes kill him so they can take everything that belongs to him.
I am not like Mia. I’m not some innocent who got lost and wandered into dark places, hurting people I loved without meaning to. I chose to do it. I choose to do it, because it fucking benefits me.
I am a selfish asshole.
Rafe doesn’t like selfish assholes—not in female form, at least. I know he’s already agreed to help me, but he could change his mind. He said himself he doesn’t deal with people he can’t trust; the last thing I want to do is verify that I’m someone he shouldn’t trust.
Instead of answering that loaded question, I sigh and tug the blankets up, settling them around my chest. “You know what? I just had a baby a few hours ago; I’m exhausted.”
The corner of Rafe’s mouth tips up and he nods very faintly. “All right.”
I roll over so my back is to him, creating a little more distance. I punch my pillow and settle in. I may not know what tomorrow brings, but for tonight, I’m relieved to have the soft surface of an actual bed beneath me.
“Good night, Rafe.”
“Good night, Meg.”
Chapter Sixteen
Mia
As happy as I was to have Roman delivered safely, the morning after his birth I dreaded getting out of bed. Not because I was exhausted—I was; he was up most of the night, which meant I was up most of the night—but because I knew Meg was no longer safe.
When Mateo returned home for lunchtime, he found me snuggled up in bed with Roman, finally getting some sleep. We didn’t want to wake the baby so we didn’t talk, and I didn’t get to see him again until dinner. When Meg didn’t show up at the table, my mind went to the darkest place. What if she was already gone? He probably wouldn’t give me a chance to say goodbye.