I tried to break her before. Now, I just wanted her as she was. I wanted every last beautiful flaw. I wanted the witty one-liners and the coldness that only I knew how to warm. I wanted the fight and the friction and the make-up sex. I wanted her to wake up in my bed every morning. I wanted her shitty cooking and her beautiful, complex mind.
I’d gone back on everything I believed, to be with her. I threw truth out the window. I was so afraid she’d forget about me, I’d lied to sneak back into her life. Now, I had inordinate amounts of explaining to do.
I looked at Miguel. He suddenly seemed like my last remaining tie to her.
“Did she leave anything? A note … anything?”
Miguel rubbed the back of his neck. “No, man.”
“Did she say where she was going?”
He sucked his teeth. “I’m just maintenance. They don’t exactly give me a forwarding address.” He looked around to make sure we were alone. “But, if she did leave something it would be in this black garbage bag, which I’m going to set right here while I do a run-through of the apartment.”
He dropped the bag on the floor and gave me a look before stepping back into the apartment and closing the door behind him.
I picked it up, weighed it in my hand. It was light. Had she left me something, telling me where she’d gone? Had Jim come back and scared her off? Had he told her? I knelt down and turned the bag over, dumping its contents on the concrete. I was sweating and my hands were damp as I sifted through the trash. Ripped up papers, broken glass, crushed flower petals … what was I looking for? A letter? Olivia would never write me a letter. It wasn’t her style. This was her style — leaving me without notice, throwing me in the fire to burn. I tossed the bag. Half of my heart was breaking; the other half was hell fucking angry. As the bag fluttered to the ground, I heard the slight tinkering of something hitting the floor. My eyes scanned the concrete, desperate for anything that would lead me to her.
I found it lying between my feet.
A penny.
Had she left it for me, or had she just left it? I picked it up, held it between my fingers. The once shiny surface had the slightly green tinge of aging copper. This was her goodbye? I felt anger and more than anger, I felt confusion. What had I done? The orange grove, the kiss in the parking lot before I left. I’d been so sure of what I felt for her … what she felt for me. There was no way Olivia would have given herself to me if she wasn’t sure of us. Then why? WHY?
I walked to the edge of the parking lot and lifted my fist, the penny pressing against my palm. Toss it, I told myself. My muscles tensed to throw it.
I couldn’t do it. My hand dropped to my side. I put the penny in my pocket and drove home.
She drives me to my car just as the sun starts to come up. Neither of us wanted to leave, but we were both afraid that Bernie would decide to come into the office on a Saturday.
“You’re going to get depressed later,” I tell her when we pull into the Fossy parking lot. “You’ll hate yourself and have a good cry, and then you’ll go to the grocery store and buy ice cream. Don’t.”
She looks at me with big eyes, and I can see the guilt is already starting to creep in.
“I don’t know what I want,” she says. “But, that was very wrong and very unfair to Noah.”
“He left you.”
“Yes.”
“Because you want a baby and he doesn’t.”
“Yes,” she says again.
“And before he left, how often was he around?”
She’s quiet for a long time.
“It’s like he thought he could be married on his terms. Have you at home for when it was convenient for him, but he’s never been there for you.”
“Stop.”
I grab her wrist and hold it. “Why didn’t he come back when Dobson escaped from that damn institution?”
“He said they’d catch him. To sit tight and trust the police.”
“Exactly. He was supposed to protect you. That was his job. He should have been on a plane the minute he found out.”
“That’s not fair,” she says, shaking her head. “He knows I’m tough. He knows I can take care of myself.”
I make a disgusted noise in the back of my throat. This is sad.
“Listen to me,” I grab her face so she has to look at me when I say this, “I know you don’t know this because your dad was a useless shit, and he never did anything to show you how you need to be treated. But you are valuable enough for any and every man in your life to drop everything to protect you. You shouldn’t have to be forced to be strong on your own because no one will stand with you. Your dad failed you. Noah failed you. I will not fail you again.”
I kiss her on the forehead just as she sheds a tear. Just one.
“Round and round and round we go, Olivia. This is about you and me, not you and Noah. Just take a few weeks. Spend some time with me. No decisions until it’s a fair decision.”
“The fair decision would be to do what’s right-”
I cut her off. “For you. Yes, do what’s right for you. Give me some time to show you.”
She opens her pink lips to shoot some venom at me.
“Hush,” I say. “Pack an overnight bag. There’s somewhere I want to take you.”
“I can’t just take off with you! I have a job!”
“I know you took some time off. Bernie told me.”
Olivia looks flabbergasted. “Bernie? When did you talk to Bernie?”
“I ran into her at the grocery store. She was worried about you.”
Her mouth is open. She shakes her head like the idea that anyone is worried about her is ludicrous.
“I’m fine,” she says firmly.
I grab her wrist and pull her into a hug, kissing the top of her head. “No, you’re not. I’m your soulmate. I’m the only one who knows how to heal you.”
She slaps me away, and when I let go, instead of pulling away, she buries her face in my chest like she’s trying to burrow herself into me. I rewrap her in a hug, trying not to laugh.
“Come on, Duchess. It’ll be like the camping trip.”
“Yeah, it’ll be just like that.” Her voice is muffled against my chest. “Except you won’t be lying about having amnesia, and I won’t be lying about not knowing you, and your redheaded bitch of a girlfriend won’t be trashing my apartment while we’re gone.”
I squeeze her tighter. It makes me sick that Leah did that. The things she’s done to keep Olivia and me apart are especially twisted. Almost as twisted as the things I’ve done to keep us together. I grimace and grip her by the shoulders, pulling her away so I can see her face.
“What do you say? Yes?”
“How long will we be gone?”
I think about it. “Four days.”
She shakes her head. “Two.”
“Three,” I counter. “We have to use one of those days for travel.”
She cocks her head and frowns at me. “We’re not really going camping, are we? Because, every time we do — we have some type of emotional catalyst, and I really don’t think I can handle-”
I put a hand over her mouth. “No camping. Pack something nice to wear. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight A.M.”
“Okay.” She tries to act nonchalant, but I can tell she’s excited.
I kiss her forehead. “Bye, Duchess. See you soon.”
I leave without looking back at her. I have no idea where I’m taking her, and I can’t lie and say camping didn’t cross my mind. But, as soon as she reminded me that both of our camping trips went to shit, I tossed the idea. She needed something to remind her how good we were together, not about the games we played. I pull out my phone as I climb into my car. I know the perfect place and it’s only a few hours away.
I knock on her door at 7:45.
“Always early,” she complains when she opens it. Her bag is in her hand. I take it and look her over. She’s wearing faded jeans and a fitted Marlins t-shirt. Her hair is wet and loose around her face.