Highway Kismet

Pesky Neighbor

I couldn't believe my eyes, Mitchell was standing a mere foot from me and even though it was after such a long time, it felt like he never left. I could feel the beat of my heart in my chest and I hated that I was feeling this way; I needed to compose myself before I slipped and fell once more.

It was difficult though because, after over a year, I stood face to face with the man who stole my heart and then broke it. In a matter of seconds, a years' worth of memories flashed in my head, like a kaleidoscope of images, I played back every single moment I shared with him.

From the very beginning when I met him at the frat party, to the time I bumped into him again after a month with Wang, to him being re-introduced as Owen's best friend and roommate.

I recalled every word we shared when we argued and fought, when we bickered and the rare moments we had a civil conversation. I went back to the moments we shared on our road trip where a relationship was developed, and he was starting to become a very important person in my life.

From the time we spent in LA, to our fallouts and makeup's, sharing an apartment, dancing, singing, laughing, crying, screaming at each other – every little fine detail flashed in my mind like an old tape on rewind.

Not only were my thoughts gone back in time, but my heart started to get as uneasy as it did when I was around him, the weird sensation I got in my belly when he was close to me was back and my skin prickled.

Bitchell was back.

"Mila," He said, looking directly into my wide gaze, "I –"

"Madame," I blinked and swallowed when I was brought back to reality.

I turned my attention to the polite gentleman, "Your room keys," He slid the key towards me, "We hope you have a pleasant stay with us, and should you need anything, please do not hesitate to let us know."

I nodded and offered half a grin and slid the keys off the desk, "Thank you."

I took in a breath and avoided any kind of contact with Mitchell, I clutched onto my tote bag and took a step to leave but I caught sight of Mitchell's hand twitching upwards. He lifted it as if to touch my hand, but he clenched his fist and slowly retracted, putting his hand in his pocket.

"It's," He broke the tense moment of silence and I was forced to meet his intense gaze once more, "It's good to see you again."

'I'm not sure if I can agree with you.'

I instinctively raised a brow; he had some nerve exchanging pleasantries as if we were old pals meeting after a long time. He might've forgotten that he willingly left and never called even once but I didn't. So, I was not buying his little 'it's nice to see you again' act because it certainly was not nice for me.

I was also tempted to tell him I'm sure it was good to see me alive, but I didn't want to be petty or make him feel as if I still cared – because I didn't.

"Sir," The man Mitchell was bitching to, saved me from responding.

"We apologize once more for the mishap, it has been resolved, and to make it up to you, the bottle of whiskey and the wine is complimentary," The man politely said, "Again, we are very sorry."

Mitchell sighed and ran a hand over his face, he truly did look exhausted and then it hit me he was probably on edge even more because of the bumpy plane ride. He must've been clutching onto his seat for dear life if his flight had as much turbulence as mine did.

'Still isn't an excuse for being a pompous ass.'

"Thank you," Mitchell said and added, "Apologies for my tone, I appreciate the compliments. Have a good evening."