MY JOB DOESN’T bring me any peace. I woke up two more times during the night to Olivia crying and making those same pleas in her sleep. Each time, she told me she didn’t remember them. Each time, she said it after hesitating. I don’t like her lying to me, especially after seeing the pain in her eyes. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it, though. She obviously doesn’t want to talk about it. She might be comfortable pushing me, but I don’t know if I want to do that to her.
At lunch, I check my messages, hoping to have one from her.
Olivia: Can I stay with you this week?
All week? Is something wrong with her apartment again? Or does this have to do with her nightmares?
Me: Yeah.
Olivia: Thanks. :)
I guess it’s a good thing I got rid of the urge to spend time by myself.
BY THE TIME I have my next appointment with Ms. Cynthia, I’m grumpy. Olivia has had at least one nightmare every night this week that wakes me up. Sometimes, she’ll wake me up, give me freaking puppy dog eyes, and ask if I’ll play the racing game with her because she can’t sleep. It’s not like I tell her no either. I need more sleep than what I’m getting, though, and I wonder how I ever operated before when I was getting even less than I am now.
“Looking a bit rough today, Corey,” Ms. Cynthia comments as we take our respective seats.
“Rough week,” I reply.
“Well, let’s start with that. What’s been going on? Having trouble sleeping?”
I rub my eyes, fighting off the rising need for a nap. I’ve been up for a while since I had to go into work early, but Olivia woke me up three times last night. “Sort of. Olivia’s been staying with me and she’s been having some nightmares, so haven’t gotten as much sleep. Everything else is okay.”
“Good. I hope you both start getting better sleep.” She takes a slightly wheezy inhale. “How have you been feeling?”
Squeezing my eyes close to rein in my temper, I say, “I just said everything else is okay.”
“Define okay.”
“Okay as in things don’t suck, but aren’t great either. I’m in the middle and easily agitated.” I give her a pointed look, which she returns with a small smile.
“That’s because you need more sleep and you’re moody. How long has it been since you’ve hit a low? How frequent were they before?”
“Um, I don’t know. Been a couple weeks, I think.” With her last question, I realize there is a bit of a pattern. “Depends. When I was playing, it was every few months, and I’d hate everything for anywhere from a week to two months. Until January, I was in a ‘low’ for a year and have slipped a few times since, I guess. Every few weeks. I don’t think I ever truly crawl out of it, though.”
She nods and jots down notes onto her legal pad. “What are some things you have coming up in the future to look forward to?”
“I’m going to see my siblings next weekend before they go on spring break.” Ms. Cynthia waits for me to add more, so I rack my brain. “My birthday is next month.”
“What about school? I believe you were dropped this semester?”
I nod. I haven’t thought about school at all. Do I want to go back and get a degree? “I love my job,” I blurt out. “Like really love it. More than football, so I don’t know about school. I never intended on using that degree because I was going to play. That’s not what I wanted to do.”
“All your hopes and dreams were with football.”
Leaning forward, I place my elbows on my knees and clasp my hands together, resting my chin on top of them. “Yes. Both of my brothers play too. My dad signed us all up and he knew I had the talent to make it someday. Football was all I had.”
“And you lost it.”
Does she have to keep stating the obvious? How is it helpful? “Yeah.”
“Football was how you coped.”
“Yes.”
“You need a new way to cope. That’s what we’re going to focus on today. Some things, you can’t control, Corey. You don’t need to as long as you can fight and never give up. When the depression hits you again, you have to try your hardest to find something, one thing, to focus on to pull you through it. One thing you can cling to and won’t let go. Find one positive thing from each day and cherish it. There will always be at least one thing, so find it. I know it’ll be hard, but that’s what you need to do.
“There’s not really a prevention method either. Your medications will help and can be adjusted, but you need to always be prepared. Stay active if it makes you feel better. Be social at least once a week. Don’t isolate yourself. If it’s going to come and make a bed in your home, then don’t feed it. If you give in, that’s okay. Don’t make it a habit, though. You’re going to have to find a reserve of strength and do what you don’t want to do. In the end, it’ll help.”
I nod because I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. This session is lasting forever.
“Is there something you want to talk about, Corey?”
Instinct takes over as I shrug. Ms. Cynthia raises a white brow. She stares me down until I run a hand over my face. Damn it.
“Olivia’s nightmares are bothering me.” She doesn’t ask why. She waits for me to explain. “She cries and she…talks.” Should I be telling her this? Am I breaking some invisible trust bond with Olivia by talking about her?
“What does she say?” Ms. Cynthia urges.
“It’s always the same thing. She says,” I pause and clear my throat to clear away my uneasiness. “She says, ‘Aaron, don’t. Please, don’t do this.’ And then she’ll add, ‘Corey. Not you too. Please.’ She tells me that she doesn’t remember them, but I think she’s lying. She got pissed because I didn’t tell her I made the first appointment with you. Told me she was upset because if I’m supposed to be able to talk to her, why didn’t I tell her? She’s not talking to me either, and I don’t know if I should make her. I want her to come to me willingly.
“If she’s the person I can talk to, even when I don’t want to, then I want to be that person for her too. Sometimes, she has to push me, but that’s what works for me. It’s what I need. I don’t know what the hell Olivia needs. I feel like I should know, but I don’t. Not one clue. And that bothers me.
“I should wait until she’s ready, I guess. She told me once she was a bystander to someone she knew who has depression. I asked her about it and she asked me not to push, to wait and she’ll eventually tell me. I think Aaron was that person for her, but I don’t have any clue who he is.” My stomach flips and flops. “I don’t think it’s family. It bothers the hell out of me that I don’t know and she won’t tell me. She’s been with me for a week straight and hasn’t said a word.”
Ms. Cynthia has been watching me the entire time without any facial expressions. “If she said she’ll tell you, then maybe you should trust her. If not, ask her. You can bring her in for a session as well, you know.”
I shake my head. “Why do you want me to bring people here? Can’t you just tell me what I need to do instead of involving them in this?”
“Sometimes it helps to have a moderator of sorts.” She talks to me a little more about Olivia before moving back to my siblings. Time seems to fly and then she’s practically pushing me out the door because our session is over. Next week, I’ll see her sooner since I’m leaving Friday to go to see my siblings.
Olivia is in my apartment, where she’s temporarily moved herself in, with dinner on the coffee table in the living room when I walk in. The spare key is on the end table next to the football from where she let herself inside. She gives a brief smile as she pats the spot next to her.
“Did you have a good session?”
“Yeah.” I kiss her softly, but quickly. “Did you have a good day?”
She shrugs. She’s had a few bad days this week. We pick up our plates and begin eating. She hasn’t been herself and I miss her and her usual pushy ways.
“Want to do yoga later? It’ll make you feel better.” I s
mile because she’s told me that before. It would be great to do that for her too, especially since we haven’t done it lately.
“Yeah, we can. Sorry I’ve been a Debbie Downer this week, Corey.” Olivia bumps her shoulder against mine.
“You don’t have to be sorry for that. Have you met me?”
She laughs for the first time in seven days. It’s such a sweet, beautiful sound. “Good point.” She picks at her food for a moment before setting it down on the table and glancing at me. “Ben said everyone was going out tonight. I kind of want to go, but I don’t want to without you.”
“You better get ready then, and no hoodie either,” I reply without any hesitation. Maybe this is what she needs to help her out of her funk. Her wide smile is exactly why I did it. She grabs my face and kisses me in appreciation.
“Thanks.”
I nod towards the door. “Go.”
She’s halfway to the door before she comes back and takes her plate. “I might want to finish this. I’ll be back in an hour.”
It feels good to see her smile again.
THERE’S A LIVE band at the bar tonight and this place is even more crowded than the last time. Thankfully, we have a round booth instead of a small table. We take the two empty spaces at one end with me on the outside. There’s a few new faces that show up after us, and Ben introduces me. One of them, a guy, keeps flicking his gaze towards Olivia, traveling over her features.
I’ve never thought of myself as the jealous type, but I’m sure as hell feeling it right now. A thousand questions run through my mind. Does Olivia know him? Are they friends? Because he’s looking at her as if he wants to be way more than that. Absentmindedly, I wrap an arm around her shoulders while she’s talking to Ben and tug her towards me just enough to kiss her temple, more of a reassurance to myself than anything.
She’s taken.
That’s my telepathic thought to the prick. If only that actually worked. I shake my head. I’m being ridiculous. My focus tonight is on making sure Olivia has a great night after a bad week. As long as he stays across the table, then we’re good. The waitress appears to take drink orders, about time, and Olivia orders us a soda.
“How have you been, Mr. Perfect-for-Olivia?” Chelsea questions me from two seats down.
Olivia groans and I laugh. “Pretty good. I’ve had to be extra perfect since she’s stayed with me this week. You?”
Chelsea’s mouth parts and her eyes widen slightly. Olivia slaps my thigh under the table. Did she not know? What’s the big deal? “Oh, she left that detail out when we talked.”
We’ve caught Ben’s attention too. He’s wearing a worried expression with his eyes on Olivia. “You’ve been feeling okay, Liv?”
What does that have to do with her staying with me?
“Just fine. How did you do on your test?”
She successfully distracts everyone as my phone vibrates in my pocket. I’ve already talked to all my siblings today, so it shouldn’t be them. Olivia’s here, so who could it be? My stomach drops at the name.
Jamal, my former teammate and best friend.
I haven’t heard from him in forever. Why is he texting me now all of a sudden? My eyes are glued to the screen, my thumb hovering as I decide whether or not to open it. The screen goes dark, but I still stare at it.
“Everything good, Corey?” Olivia asks as I realize people are scooting out from the other end to go dance or use the restroom. We’re alone for the moment aside from Ben.
“I don’t know.” Leaning over to whisper in her ear, I tell her who just texted me.
“What did it say?”
I shrug. “Haven’t looked.”
She grabs my phone from my hand and reads it. “It’s not bad. Here.”
Jamal: Hey, man. Haven’t heard from you in a while. Hope you’re doing ok. Hit me up next time you come to visit.
Shaking my head, I put my phone to sleep.
“Why did you do that? You aren’t going to respond? You’re going next weekend, you should make plans with him.”
I glare at her. Seriously? Like I want to be around him. I can’t do that. “We’re not doing this here,” I warn in a low voice.
“Fine, but we will later.”
And just like that, Olivia is back to normal.
We end up having a good time, but she ruins it on the drive back. All she can talk about is how I need to reunite with my friend, why it would be so good for me, and a bunch more bullshit. I manage not to comment. Instead, I let her ramble on and on. But as we walk down the hallway to reach our apartments, I can’t take it anymore.
“I’m not doing it,” I tell her firmly as I unlock my door, noting that she’s waiting behind me.
“Why not?!” she exclaims.
The fucking football is the first thing I see and it sets off an eruption. Swiveling to face her, I warn, “Don’t push it, Olivia. I don’t want to do it, so leave it alone.”
“No!” Her arms fling around in the air. “This could be good for you! You need to at least try. Why wouldn’t you want to have a friend?”
Shaking my head at her, I turn to walk away. “Go home and fight with me tomorrow, Olivia. I’m too tired for this shit,” I reply over my shoulder. This is what we fight about. My issues. All the freaking time and for once, I wish she would let it go when I ask her. I’m barely walking on solid ground again and she wants me to jump head-first into a friendship I abandoned with a football player. It’s too soon. Maybe in a few months I would be able to handle it, but I’m not that strong anymore, especially not right now.
“You’re such an ass!” she yells, but seconds later, I hear my door slam shut. I’m an ass, but she needs to learn when to stop pushing too. What’s the point of being open and honest with her if she’s not going to trust when I say not to push it?
I change and fall into bed, plugging my phone in and quickly falling asleep.
THE BLARING RINGTONE I assigned to Patrick wakes me up. My stomach drops as I grab it and swipe to answer. He shouldn’t be calling me at two AM.
“What’s wrong?” I answer.
“Luce is on the way to the hospital.” My heart stills and all the air leaves my lungs. “I think it’s her appendix, but won’t know until we get there.”
“Which hospital?” He tells me where she’s headed and I add, “I’m on my way.”
Lucy is a big baby when it comes to doctors. I need to be there for her. I toss my phone on the nightstand and quickly dress. It takes me a moment to find my keys, which irritates me, but as soon as I find them, I’m out the door and on my way to my sister.
About halfway there, I realize I forgot my phone. Shit. Hopefully Patrick has Olivia’s number so I can let her know what’s going on because I don’t have it memorized. Hell, I couldn’t even guess. This is what happens when our phones do it for us. By the time I arrive, Patrick, Jon, and Grant are all in the waiting room, lifting their heads when I walk in.
“She’s getting some tests run,” Patrick answers before I can ask.
I nod, taking the empty seat next to Grant. “Hey, Patrick. Do you have Olivia’s number? I forgot my cell.”
He shakes his head. “Only heard from her off your phone.”
Damn it. It seems like we wait forever. When a doctor enters and begins to walk our way, we all stand. He confirms it’s her appendix giving her trouble and that they’re going to do surgery in the morning. Then, he leads us to her room.
Grant is the first one to make it to her side. He rushes over to her, taking her hand and kissing her forehead. “Doing okay?”
“I hate this place,” she mumbles. She looks paler than usual and a bit distraught. My brothers and I line up on the other side of her with me the closest. “Hey, Corey. Sorry to interrupt your night.”
“Nothing a nap later won’t fix. I’ll stay until it’s over, Luce.”
“Thanks.” She glances at each of us. “Are you all going to stay here with me tonight? There’s three chairs in here and I can scoot over f
or Grant. I shouldn’t ask, but…” Her voice trails off. I don’t know why she hates anything doctor-related, but she does.
“Grant can sleep in his truck,” Jon comments with a shake of his head at the idea of having to sleep in the same room as our sister while she’s in bed with her boyfriend.
“Leave her alone.” I shoot him a glare. She can have whatever the hell she wants. “If you want us to stay, we’ll stay, Luce.”
She grabs my hand and squeezes it in appreciation. Patrick and Jon leave to ask for blankets and pillows. “You look better than the last time I saw you, Corey. I hope this doesn’t mess up our plans next weekend or spring break.” She gives Grant a worried glance with those last two words.
“I’m sure you’ll be all better by then,” he reassures her before she turns her attention back on me.
“Do you like your new job? How’s Olivia?” These are the questions I usually avoid when I talk to her on the phone. I make it more about her with a few good normal updates from me.
“I like it and she’s good.”
“Is she coming down with you? You should ask her.”
I’ve thought about asking her, but I’m not sure. Maybe I will and that can be our official date that she wants so much. She did say something about going home too, so I’m not sure if she’ll come. “I will. You need to get some rest,” I finish as Patrick and Jon return.
Despite last night, I think I do want to ask her out. Am I ready for that? We fight quite a bit, which we’re usually both responsible for. Sometimes, it’s mostly me. Maybe I need to sleep on it some more.
ONCE LUCY IS all settled after her surgery in a room to recover, I kiss her forehead and tell her I need to get back. She’s supposed to send me updates, and I promise I’ll see her next Friday. Between Grant, Patrick, and Jon, she would be waited on hand and foot, I’m sure.
The first thing I do when I get back is go straight to Olivia’s. I knock, but she doesn’t answer. She’s home; I saw her car in the parking lot.
“Olivia,” I call out. Nothing. My stomach churns as a bad feeling settles over me. I try the knob and it gives. When I walk in, nothing seems out of the ordinary at first. But then I hear sobs, loud heartbroken cries, coming from her bedroom. I run to her room.
Nepenthe (Bracing for Love #2) Page 17