by April Smyth
When I snap out of my daydream I realise that Oliver has finally shown up. He has been for a shower; his shaggy brown hair and beard is dripping with water and his perfectly muscular body is paraded as he wears only a towel around his waist. Oh God. His body is perfection. It is so big and towering and manly. Sordid images from this afternoon flash through y mind. His wandering hands and the electrifying sensation of his touch. Oh and his lips pressed against mine. I get shivers and forcefully I restrain myself from biting my lip. From the corner of my eye I see Rose tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth and eying up Oliver’s perfect physique lustfully.
‘Long time no see, Olly,’ Rose smiles at him politely, shaking off her moment of desire. I guess he has this effect on everyone. It kills me that he is such a nice person too. Such good looks usually equates to a rotten personality but Oliver is the whole package and my God do I want to tear off the gift paper.
There is an almost visible tension between Oliver and I. Maybe I’d thought it was sexual originally but this feels different. Whatever we are both feeling it is crackling between us but I don’t think Rose and June sense it or if they do they keep it to themselves. I want to have Oliver alone. Not to ravish him but to talk to him about what happened between us. I want to be friends and I want to make the rest of my time here as pleasant as possible for everyone - I hope he can understand.
Oliver and Rose hug each other. She watches him intently as he leans against the kitchen counter and bites into an apple. Why? Does she like him romantically?
‘How have you been, Rose?’ he asks casually between crunches of his apple. It is hard to concentrate with his contoured body glistening with water droplets like that.
‘It’s been tough being away from home and not visiting Michael as often but I’ve kept it together. How have you been?’ she sags. Another moment where I am reminded of my selfishness. All I could do was think about my pain and my grief. I couldn’t stand everything I’d lost but I never considered what Rose was giving up to save me.
Oliver keeps his answer vague. He doesn’t mention our time together which I’m grateful for. I can’t tell if he doesn’t mention how much fun we’ve had because he’s mad at me for today. Even if that’s not the case he is definitely avoiding me. He hasn’t looked at me once since he walked in the kitchen.
‘Put some clothes in you dirty boy,’ June smacks his bare, solid stomach with a wet dishcloth. ‘You have guests!’
He laughs and leaves the room to dress. Normally he would make a joke but he seems much more subdued than the Oliver I have grown attached to. I still melt at the tenderness in his eyes as he looks at June and his boyish laugh but there is definitely something missing. I really have screwed this up, haven’t I?
Once he is out of earshot Rose gushes, ‘I always forget how beautiful he is then I see him again and I feel like I could melt.’
June throws her head back in laughter but I can’t find it in myself to even smile. Oliver is mad at me. Gabe doesn’t remember me. My family are miles away and I feel like there is a big wedge between Rose and I as I can’t confide in her about my true feelings.
‘He seems different though,’ Rose says after she is done giggling.
I swear June looks at me suspiciously when Rose says this but it is so fleeting that I can’t be sure I didn’t just imagine it. ‘He’s same old Oliver,’ June says with a motherly smile upon her little heart shaped face. Whenever June talks to or about Oliver I get a pang of longing for my own mother. Beatrice Mueller who I never got the chance to know because she was a Healer and Maurice drained her of all her blood for his own selfish reasons. I shudder. I wish I had gotten the chance to spend time with her and talk to her about being the way I am, being a freak. Maybe I wouldn’t have felt so alone all my life if I knew there were other people like me.
‘How long are you staying with us, Rosie Posie?’ June asks and I zone out of the conversation again and drift off to thoughts of my family. Thinking about my late mother prods me to think about my dad and Shannon back at home. Is Shannon better? How is Lily? I think about my newborn sister and clutch my stomach. I barely got to see her before I had to run off with Oliver. My dad will be so worried, will she get a good start at life? I hope I haven’t ruined the happiness that should be warming the house right now. I wonder if Oliver and Rose would let me call my dad and let him know I’m alright. I already know the answer. It’s too risky when Maurice probably has dozens of employees still looking for me. Just because he has moved his sights towards Claire, it doesn’t mean I am safe.
Rose elbows me in the stomach to wake me from my deep thoughts then gives me a comforting look and squeezes my shoulder lovingly. I am glad she is here with me now even if her flirting with Oliver is difficult to stomach and I know I can’t tell her the whole truth about the past week. Things might not feel the same but it is a thousand miles away from the loneliness I felt at home.
Oliver hasn’t came back and I am itching to talk to him about what has happened. I need to resolve the mistake I made. I need him to stay the same with me; I can’t handle losing somebody else.
I wait another few minutes of Rose and June discussing Rose’s brother, Michael’s progress before I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I make a detour and go to Oliver’s bedroom where I find him fully clothed - fortunately because I think I’d go wild if I had to see that beautiful body dangling in front of me again - and he is sitting with his head buried into his hands.
‘Are you okay?’ I whisper. I am suddenly embarrassed for intruding on his private moment.
He looks up at me and I struggle to decipher what his feelings for me are. Is he mad at me? Or upset? Or is everything okay? ‘I’m fine, Cassie, what is it?’ he says. I don’t want him to be snappy with me. To think about him being angry with me leaves a horrible black hole in my stomach. I can’t lose our friendship when it is the only thing that has stopped me from going insane! The pain of losing my family and Gabe has been so intense and the only things subduing the grief are his warm hazel eyes and the safety of his arms. I take great comfort in knowing that somebody can still make me smile through all the pain and that somebody is Oliver. I give him a pleading look. Don’t give up on me.
‘I just...’ I sit beside him and rest my head on his shoulder without thinking. He looks uneasy about my proximity. He never had a problem with our closeness before and it hurts that he is doubting it now. Have I really ruined it? ‘Please don’t be mad at me, Oliver.’
‘I’m not mad at you,’ he says but I can feel him clenching his teeth which is a dead giveaway that he is lying. I teased him. I made him believe we could be something more than friends then tore it away at the last minute. I can understand why he would be upset but I just need him to understand.
I stare into his eyes and hope that my face can convey what my words cannot. His stony expression softens, ‘I’m not mad at you, Cassie, I promise. I’m just mad at myself.’
‘What?’ I say exasperated. How can he blame himself? He did nothing wrong. I kissed him first that day, I sparked the fire and it was me who pushed myself on him today. All he is guilty of is being so sexy that I couldn’t deny myself of him.
‘I know how much this is all hurting you. I shouldn’t take advantage of your vulnerability,’ he says and I can see that he is genuinely angry with himself. He is punishing himself for something that isn’t his fault and that hurts even more than him being angry at me. I would rather he punished me for being a tease than let him believe he is a bad person. ‘If anything happens between us, Cassie, I want it to be real and you’re too sad right now to know what you really want.’
I know that I really wanted him today. It wasn’t fake. Yes, I am confused and sad but I wanted him so badly and I want him now too. I just can’t succumb to these feelings because I belong to Gabe. It doesn’t mean what I feel for Oliver isn’t real. He holds onto my hand and strokes it with his thumb and even such a simple move makes my heartbeat quicken. It is making me ache to hear hi
m talk to me like this. It seems impossible that my feelings would be reciprocated by him. ‘I know what I want,’ I say simperingly.
He raises an eyebrow, ‘And what’s that?’
For some reason I am compelled to tell him the truth. I always do when I’m around him. I take a deep breath, ‘I want you. You are funny and wonderful and you make me smile when I have no reason to. I want you but I want Gabe more and I know it sounds stupid because he doesn’t know who I am anymore but I can’t be unfaithful to him. I can’t hurt myself anymore than I am already hurting.’ I squeeze Oliver’s hand tightly as I watch his eyes darken with sadness, ‘I want...’ I trail off as tears begin to strangle my voice. I won’t cry.
Oliver parts his lips and sighs. He scratches his beard, which has gotten thicker since we first met, and he drops my hand onto my lap. ‘You are amazing,’ he smiles softly at me. My breathing gets heavier as he looks into my eyes and I feel his admiration for me. He isn’t lying like Maurice did to make me fall for his charms. He genuinely believes I am special and that is a rare thing to find. He is making this so difficult for me even if I know he doesn’t mean it.
‘Don’t worry about this, Cassie, it will all work out,’ he cups my face and strokes my cheek which sends my body into overdrive. I won’t kiss him. I won’t.
‘I know,’ I sigh but who will it work out for? Who will get their happy ending?
TEN
‘What were you two doing in there?’ Rose wiggles her eyebrows wickedly when Oliver and I return to the kitchen. It seems everyone’s minds are in the gutter.
It’s getting dark outside and I’m getting tired. I am filled with dread knowing that Oliver won’t be able to share my bed with me tonight because Rose might suspect something. I hate the cabin and when I am alone in there the nightmares come. I need his arms around me to scare off the ghosts of my past.
June sets up one of the spare bedrooms for Rose to stay in although Rose insists she can stay with me in the cabin. I tell her that it’s alright, that I will be fine and that I like sleeping alone. Oliver looks at me, annoyed that I am lying to Rose about how painful my nights are but I can’t bring the truth to the surface. I don’t want Rose to judge me or worry unnecessarily.
There has been no word from Arrow or Gabe since Rose arrived but she doesn’t seem concerned. She must have a lot of faith in her witchy friend. Well, she hasn’t given me any proof not to trust her. She has kept me and my family safe and kept Maurice far away. I just wish she would use her amazing powers to give Gabe all his memories back. Things would be different if he could remember me, remember us and the things we went through together. If she can give Claire back her memories, why can’t he do the same with him? Doesn’t he want to remember?
‘Why don’t we just relax?’ June brings a bottle of wine out of the pantry and we all laugh but my laugh is masking an inner panic. I haven’t let alcohol pass my lips since I returned from Toulouse. Not that I was a heavy drinker anyway. I guess I couldn’t bring myself to join in with my friends as they drank themselves into oblivion every weekend because I saw the sinister side of alcohol first hand. I saw how it tormented Gabe and I knew that with every sip of the bitter liquid I would be thinking of him and maybe even turning into him.
‘Have a glass,’ Rose says, noting my anxiety. ‘It might make you feel better.’
The thin glass cage which has been protecting my heart finally shatters under the pressure and I feel the shards stick into my insides. I see a montage of images: Gabe at that bar with shots of whiskey, sleeping with Maurice, my last goodbye with Gabe. I see my lips pressing against his but then my face transforms into Claire’s and I feel a heave inside of me and the glass shards sink further into my heart. Without another thought, I banish these pictures and swallow the wine.
We stay up late drinking wine together. I stop thinking about Gabe and Claire. I try to feel peaceful knowing that things between Oliver and I will be alright. We can be good friends. He can help to pick of the broken glass and heal what my stupid blood cannot.
Whenever we finish one bottle, June brings out another. Every worry begins to float out of my body and we all relax into each other’s company. There seems to be no cares in the world when in reality we are all heavily burdened.
I am barely aware that I am clearly the drunkest of the four. My head slumps to my chest, my words slur out of my mouth and eventually it is obvious to everyone that it is time for me to go to bed before I start embarrassing myself.
‘Oh I wish we’d gotten drunk together a long time ago,’ Rose laughs as I fall into her chest. Through my drunken haze I can see Oliver’s face has fallen from laughter to concern. He ushers June and Rose to go to bed and says he will take care of me.
Alone in the dimly lit kitchen and unembarrassed because of the alcohol I openly stare at Oliver’s face. His forehead is creased with anxiety as I sway sitting down. When I look away from his beautiful face I feel nausea overwhelm me. ‘Shouldn’t you burn the alcohol off quicker being a Healer? Come on, Cassie,’ he says, he tugs at me but I don’t move.
It is odd that my Healer blood doesn’t reject alcohol and the sensation of being drunk. I am deprived of pain and wounds because I regenerate much quicker than the average human. I don’t know enough of the science to understand what is really happening inside my body. A part of me wishes I had taken up Dave’s offer to participate in a medical experiment but I had been too hurt by his false pretenses of affection to accept. What about the scientists in Russia who wanted to pay my family millions for me to take part in experiments? Could they explain to me the bizarre anatomy?
‘Come on, Cassie, you’re drunk,’ he says seriously but I bat my eyelashes at him and tell him he is pretty so he softens up and starts to laugh. Since I’m unwilling to move from my chair, he tucks his arms underneath me and picks me up in a smooth movement. How come he isn’t drunk? Do big, bad wolves not feel the effects of alcohol? Or maybe he wasn’t drinking that much and I hadn’t noticed.
I wrap my arms around him to support myself and tuck my face into the crook of his neck, absorbing his scent. I feel extremely happy in his arms. I kiss his bearded cheek softly and whisper, ‘Thank you.’
‘What for, Cassie?’
‘For everything. For being my friend and making me happy,’ I smile goofily. My eyelids feel heavy and my lips and fingers are numb. Is this what Gabe liked about drinking so much? The anesthetics. ‘You make me very happy, Oliver. I didn’t think that was possible anymore.’
I don’t even feel myself fall asleep but I wake up and I am back in the cabin outside. Alone. I note the light peering into the cabin from outside and groan that a whole night has passed and morning has arrived already. Thankfully Healers don’t get hangovers but they do get bruised egos.
I use the phone to call the main house as I know I’m not supposed to walk through the grounds alone incase I’m ambushed by a scary vampire. June answers with a laugh, ‘How are you feeling this morning?’
Did I mortify myself last night? I slap my hand against my forehead. ‘I’m fine, June, can you get Oliver to pick me up?’ It seems absurd that I can’t walk a few steps outside without my friends getting hysterical about my safety.
‘He’s still asleep. He only got back in an hour ago,’ she explains.
‘Where was he?’
June laughs again, ‘He stayed with you all night.’
My heart drops. He stayed with me to make sure I fell asleep? To comfort me if I woke up with a fright? I catch my breath. He kept the ghosts away even when I was blind drunk. It is getting harder and harder to untangle my thoughts. I can’t let my feelings grow any more, I remind myself, we are friends and I care for him but the other stuff has to stop but why can’t I stop my heart from beating faster whenever I think of him?
‘Oh.’ I feel ashamed that I didn’t even know about his lovely gesture because I was too drunk. That is the last time I drink that much wine. Or any at all. I don’t want to be seeking my comfort in a bottl
e of vodka. ‘Well, can you tell him to come get me once he’s awake?’ I hang up before June can say anything else and slump back onto my bed.
This is a predicament. Gabe is off rescuing and professing his undying love to Claire whilst I’m stuck falling for another man but desperately clinging on to whatever shred of hope there is of me being with Gabe again.
I stare at the ceiling which is covered in black mould and try to collect my thoughts. What do I want? A part of me wants to be at home cuddled up on the couch surrounded by my loving family including a new baby sister who I have barely had the chance to know but if I choose a life of normalcy with the ones I love what am I forfeiting? What about Gabe? I want him so much it makes me ache but I have no option but to say goodbye to him. I can long for him forever but it won’t make him remember me or want Claire less. She has his heart now.
And do I want Oliver? I have known him for only a few days but already he has proved to me to be the most wonderful man I have ever met. I fell in love with Gabe despite his flaws. I fought it because I knew he was arrogant and moody but there is nothing to fight against with Oliver. He is caring and witty. He has held me until I have fallen asleep every night and banished the harrowing thoughts which bury themselves deep inside of me. He has accepted me for my flaws. The thought of choosing him as my future if that’s what I want, if that’s what he wants, seems so easy. I could slide into a life with him. He would make me happy but could I make him happy? If I chose to make a go of things with Oliver, would he grow to resent me because I can never wholly give myself to him? My heart will always belong to someone else.
I have made myself a bowl of cereal before Oliver arrives at the door. He looks tired. He obviously didn’t get much sleep in my bed last night and the effects are showing on his wearying face. ‘Morning sleeping beauty,’ he chortles. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his muscular arms over his wide chest, ‘You know it’s very unfair that you don’t get killer hangovers. You were so drunk last night and yet you look fresh as a daisy.’