It was an afternoon late in August when Mia first saw him, counting her steps in even numbers as she walked. “Two, four, six, eight, ten…” Heat was bouncing off the roads and pirouetting off in the air. Instead of taking her usual way home, she decided to walk through the square and see if the leaves had turned. Counting, “eighteen, twenty, twenty-two,” under her breath she looked around at the benches which were scattered about. There was a bench supporting a young mom, her baby in a car seat and her eyes glued to a phone. There was a bench that held a teenage boy, slouching and smoking a cigarette. Mia coughed and walked on.
I had only ever been with one man. He was my first date, first love, first kiss. My first everything really. At eighteen I had married him. By nineteen he was working like a dog, roofing 16 hours a day while I stayed home and wrote stories. Its understandable why I did it. Really. Imagine being a young girl in a strange city, desperate for love but not getting it from her one and only. It was never in my mind to intentionally cheat though, it just happened and I justified it.