by Unknown
“I do.”
“Has she ever told you that it was your fault?”
“No, but she—”
“Has she ever said that you could have stopped it? That you could have saved your friends?”
I lowered my head. “No.”
He kissed my head. “That’s because there’s nothing you could have done. Nothing. You have to try to let it go.”
I swallowed. “It’s hard.”
“I know. Trust me, I know.”
I wiped away another stray tear, remembering the pain in his eyes when he told me about the abortion. “Do you ever talk to your ex-girlfriend? I mean, have you forgiven her for not telling you?”
His face tensed. “Yes, I talk to her,” he said, the words tinged with something I couldn’t make out. Like regret or guilt. “But I will never forgive her for doing that. And I do try to forgive her. I think that’s all we can ask ourselves to do. Try.”
I buried my head into his chest. “Thank you,” I said.
“For what?”
“For giving me the courage to try.”
Chapter Thirty
Dear Trisha,
For the first time, I am writing you without crying, without my hands shaking, and without a heavy heart. I know that on some level I will always blame myself. I will always wonder “what if,” but thanks to someone I love, I’m learning to try to forgive myself. I love you dearly, and no matter what, I will always miss you.
Olive
Chapter Thirty-One
I knocked on Preston’s apartment door, eager to see him. It had been four days since he spent the night with me at Westlake, and though we didn’t get to spend the night together as we had originally hoped, I felt closer to him than I ever had before. It was as though him finding out about the fire and my inability to cope after freed me from the burden of keeping it from him, from lying about the whys of my therapy. I realized that I trusted him, more than I had trusted anyone other than Trisha, and that realization made me want to tell him what I had been dying to tell him for weeks. That I loved him. I loved him so fully that my heart ached when he was away. My mind felt restless. My body felt cold. I needed him, and for once, I wasn’t afraid. I was ready to try, and not just with him.
I had resigned myself to the fact that I was ready to open the box. I was ready to face Trisha. I told Rose that I would be by her office the next day, box in hand, and I could hear the pride in her voice as she told me that she couldn’t wait to see me. I finally felt my life clicking into order, becoming a system again, a living, breathing thing. I was happy. I was so, so happy.
I knocked on Preston’s door again, and then glanced down to see the door slightly ajar. I pushed it in, and entered slowly. “Hello?”
“You have to tell her. Right now.”
A sick feeling hit me, like deja vu. It was Kara. I could tell by her voice, but who was she talking about—
“This has nothing to do with you,” Preston spit out. “I will tell her when the time is right. I’m not fucking this up just to clear your conscience.”
“This isn’t about my conscience. This is about her. How can you not see that? If you love her, if you care about her at all, then you need to tell her!”
This was the second time I had walked in on them arguing, and this time I knew, without any doubt, that they were talking about me. I stepped out of the entryway. “Tell me what?” I felt hollow inside, like all the air and blood in me had been sucked out and there was nothing left, only the sick feeling.
Kara started forward. “Oh. Olivia, I didn’t mean—”
“Tell me what?” I said through gritted teeth.
Preston walked around Kara, his eyes wide, filled with worry. “Look, I— Can we just sit down? I didn’t . . . This isn’t how . . .”
“Tell me what?!”
He closed his eyes, drew a long breath, and then reopened them. “Kara was the girlfriend,” he said, the words so low I could barely hear him.
“What? She—?” My eyes darted to Kara, who immediately found the floor. “You mean the two of you were once . . . together?”
Preston took a step toward me, but I backed away, my hands out to stop him. “No, don’t. I need you to explain this to me. I don’t understand. I thought you were just friends.”
“We are friends,” he said. “But for some time, she was my girlfriend. We were so great as friends that we figured we might as well try dating, and then—”
“And then I became pregnant,” Kara finished. “I was petrified. I was hardly an adult, so I decided to have an abortion.”
“I found out through one of her friends,” Preston said. “The girl was laughing about me being fertile, and I had no idea what she meant, and then I remembered that Kara had missed her period. When I questioned her, she admitted everything, and I ended it.”
I reached out for the counter to steady myself. “So, you two have . . . you’re . . . oh my God.” I took another step back, then another. I couldn’t take any more.
“Don’t go,” Preston pleaded. “I—”
“You lied to me.”
“No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”
I shook my head, tearing brimming in my eyes. “You never once told me the girl was Kara. All those times we talked about it. You never once said a word. I asked you at Christmas if you still talked to her. That was just days ago! And you still didn’t admit that the girl was Kara. How could you keep something like this from me?”
“Olivia,” Kara began, but I wasn’t going to listen to her excuses. I didn’t want to hear any more of their excuses.
I glared at her. “You warned me to stay away from him. I guess now I know why.” I turned my back to them and started for the door, just as Preston reached me, stepping in front of my path.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But this doesn’t mean anything. We are just friends, nothing more. I should have told you sooner, I know that now, but I was afraid of what you would think. Just . . . let’s talk this through. Please . . .” His eyes became glassy, his voice thick. “I love you.”
My heart locked down, blocking out the words. “Clearly not enough.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
I drove around for thirty minutes after I left Preston’s, my mind a scattered mess that I had no hope of organizing. Preston and Kara were once together. Preston and Kara had sex. Likely many times. I felt sick to the core. Finally, I drove over to the one place left in Charleston that I still trusted.
I raced down the sidewalk, up the steps to Rose’s office, and burst through the main door, only to stop short, my stomach dropping. Rose and Preston were standing in her waiting area, him talking frantically, while Rose ordered him to leave.
Their eyes both landed on me, and Preston took a step toward me. “I was hoping you would come here.”
“What is he doing here?” I spit out to Rose, who as calmly as ever lit a cigarette, took a long draw, and then blew out the smoke. “On the record, I have asked him to leave unless he plans to become one of my patients. But off the record, Olive, I think you need to calm down and listen to him.”
“I’m done listening. I’ve heard enough. Please, just make him leave. This is supposed to be my space.”
Preston started toward me. “I’m sorry. Please—”
“Leave!” I yelled, my anger taking over the pain.
“No,” he said, his voice growing louder. “You’re just afraid. I know I didn’t tell you, but we were together years ago! This wasn’t yesterday. I didn’t cheat on you. I understand that you’re angry, but this isn’t about Kara and me. You’re pushing me away because you’re too scared to get involved with me. You’re petrified that if you open up, someone’s going to die. Well guess fucking what? People die, Olivia! They die. But I’m here, right now, and I am out of mind in love with you. I love you so much that it feels like my chest might expl
ode, and the thought of you leaving makes me want to get on the ground and beg you to stay. If I thought it would work, I would kneel down right now.” He dropped his head and drew a breath, his voice becoming shaky. “You made me a promise. You promised that before you left, you would give me a chance to convince you stay. Give me a chance.” His eyes focused on me, pleading, but I couldn’t let myself listen. If I allowed myself to hear him, I would crumble, and my heart couldn’t handle any more pain.
“Rose . . .” I turned to her. “I need to speak with you, please. In private.”
Rose shook her head. “I’m not going to be your out. You need to talk. You need to face this.”
“You don’t get to decide what I need to face!” I screamed. “I pay you to listen, not to judge, not to order me around, and sure as hell not to tell me when I should be hurt.”
Rose stared at me, her jaw set. “I won’t be your out. You are stronger than this.”
My body shook in anger and frustration as I watched Rose standing there, unwilling to help me. “He didn’t tell me,” I whispered. “I trusted him, and he didn’t tell me.”
She nodded. “I understand. But Preston is right, this isn’t about that.”
“He’s right?” I took a step back, tears running down my face. “You are my therapist, my friend. You’re supposed to support me.”
Rose walked toward me. “That’s what I’m doing.”
I took another step back, the office that had become my sanctuary now a prison, tying me to these people that suddenly felt like strangers. I gripped the doorknob, my hands shaking so badly that I wasn’t sure I could turn it.
“Don’t leave,” Preston said.
I glanced at him. “I left the moment you lied to me.”
“Olivia, you are not going to shut this out!” Rose shouted.
I glared at her through my tears. “Thanks, but I no longer need your opinion. You’re fired.”
***
I sat in my car outside Liberty for an hour, the tears and pain and sadness taking over. I thought of what Preston had said, of Rose’s last words, but all I could focus on was the fact that I had spent months with these two people, only for them to let me down.
I grabbed a tissue from my bag and cleaned up my face as best I could, before starting up the walk to my dorm. I had no idea what I planned to do, but I knew I couldn’t live there anymore, in the same room as Kara, knowing she had lied, knowing she had been with Preston. I thought of Ethan accusing her of still having feelings for her ex-boyfriend at Thanksgiving and almost burst into tears again. Of course they would still have feelings for each other.
I took the stairs, hoping to avoid the other girls on my floor, and snuck into my dorm room, but Kara was already there, waiting. She stood as soon as she saw me. “I should have told you. I thought about it a thousand times, but—”
“It doesn’t matter. You didn’t.”
“But we aren’t anything now, Olivia. That was years ago.”
I turned on her. “So you’re telling me that you have no feelings for Preston? That you no longer love him?” Her mouth opened, but no words came out. I had my answer. “That’s what I thought.”
“No! It isn’t like that. I will always love him. He’s my best friend. He’s the only one who really knows what I went through. He—”
“I don’t want to hear this!” I screamed. “I don’t want to think about you two together. Please, just . . .” My bottom lip trembled. “Please let me pack in peace.”
“Pack? You can’t . . .” She shook her head. “You’re my best friend.” Tears ran down her face, and for a moment I thought of Trisha, of what she would say to me now. Some part of me wondered if I was being irrational, but then I remembered my conversations with Kara, how she spoke of the ex-boyfriend and never once hinted that it was Preston, and the anger resurfaced. I felt like a part in a cruel joke between them.
I turned away and began to fill my overnight bag with my things. “I’m taking what I can now. I’ll be back for the rest later. I called the housing office on the way over. They will have me transferred to a new room by next week.”
“A new room? Olivia, this is insane. We should talk. If you would just listen—”
I whipped around. “I did listen. For months. I listened to you talk about Ethan. About your classes. Your grades. I supported you. I did everything I could to be a good friend to you. And then you . . . He’s . . .” I drew a breath to keep myself from crying again. “What’s insane is that I’ve stayed here this long.”
“Olivia, stop!” Kara called as I went through the door, but I didn’t turn around. I walked down the hall, disappeared into the elevator, and slumped against the back wall, my bag tight to my chest. Never in my life had I felt more alone.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“I think that’s the last of it,” Taylor said, as he brought in a large box from Crate & Barrel. Another delivery from my parents. I had moved into my new apartment at Charleston Haven two weeks before and had received countless deliveries. The two-bedroom apartment came furnished, but I had no glasses or plates or towels, so Mom made it her mission to fully stock my place. She hadn’t asked why I was moving out or anything about Preston, likely the work of my dad, but I knew at some point I would have to answer those questions. For now, it was too painful to talk about.
Rose had called my cellphone exactly three times over the two weeks, leaving three different messages, beginning with, “You are being a coward,” then, “Stop being such a pain,” to finally, “When you change your mind, I’ll be here.” I knew there was no likelihood that I’d change my mind, but the words made me cry all the same. I wanted to change my mind. I wanted to take it all back and erase what had happened. But I couldn’t, and it wasn’t like Kara and Preston had tried to call anyway.
“Where do you want this?” Taylor said, tapping the box.
“Oh, sorry. Just on the counter in the kitchen is fine. Thanks for helping.” Taylor and I ended up having three classes together this semester, which meant I saw him more often than I saw anyone else, and then when I found out he also lived in Charleston Haven, he became my one and only friend.
He shrugged. “No big deal” He hesitated. “We haven’t talked about it, but what happened with that other dude. Preston, right?”
I looked away. I had intentionally avoided the conversation, which was easy with Taylor because we never talked about anything serious. “Yeah . . . we aren’t together anymore.”
Taylor nodded. “I thought as much. But don’t worry. I’ll give you another week to recover before I start hitting on you.” He flashed his crooked grin.
“A whole week?” I smiled back. “That’s impressive.”
He glanced around my apartment. “What’s impressive is the number of packages you’ve received. Your parents know this is a college apartment, right?”
I eyed the unopened boxes. “My mom’s a little over the top.”
“Clearly.”
My stomach grumbled, and I checked my watch. “It’s almost one. Want to grab lunch?”
“Are you asking me on a date, Ms. Warren?”
I rolled my eyes. “Not in this lifetime, but I’ll buy you lunch. I couldn’t have gotten all these packages up here without you.”
“Okay, I’ll take your lunch offer, though you aren’t buying. How about Jim ’N Nick’s? We can watch the game.”
I glanced up, remembering my first lunch there with Kara, and Preston joining us, and felt a pang in my chest at the memory. I sighed, but I didn’t want to let them control what I did. “Jim ’N Nick’s it is.”
Taylor and I walked through the door of the crowded restaurant. The NFL playoffs were on all the screens, and the bar and each of the tables were overrun with fans shouting at the game. I leaned in closer to Taylor so he could hear me. “Want me to grab a table while you order?”
He
nodded for me to go ahead. I told him what I wanted and then squeezed through the crowd toward an open spot in the back. I had just reached the table and set down my bag, when I peered around and my eyes locked on a booth beside the bar. I hadn’t noticed it before because of all the people standing, but now the booth and the couple sitting in it were right in my line of sight. Preston had his head down, his hands linked on the table. Kara said something, then reached across the table and patted his hands. I bit down on my lip. Of course they would be here. That was just my luck. I closed my eyes, torn between leaving and sticking it out. I couldn’t avoid them forever.
“Hey, what are you staring at?” Taylor set down our tray of food and turned around to see what had caught my attention. At that exact moment, Preston looked over, his eyes locking on Taylor and then dropping to me, where they held. “Do you want to go?” Taylor said.
It had been two weeks. Shouldn’t this hurt less? Shouldn’t I have built up some resistance? It took every ounce of strength in my body to break eye contact. “No. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Taylor said, as he sat down and passed me my food. “We can take this back to your apartment. Watch the game there.”
I started to answer, when a voice I would recognize anywhere said, “When did you get an apartment?”
I drew a breath in hopes of preparing myself for the hit that would come when I looked up, but there was no way to shield the pain I felt. I glanced up and straight into Preston’s eyes, wishing I had spoken to him without looking up. Or ignored him all together. The blue of his irises was darker than normal, like the color of the ocean when a storm blew in. He eyed Taylor, and when he returned his gaze to me, I could see the question he wouldn’t ask. He wanted to know if I had moved on, but there was no moving on. Not from him.
“I moved into Charleston Haven a few weeks ago,” I said, mainly because I wasn’t sure what else to say. I picked at my sandwich, no longer hungry.