Nepenthe (Bracing for Love #2)

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Nepenthe (Bracing for Love #2) Page 22

by Lindsay Paige


  Ms. Cynthia is quiet for a moment. “She’s forgiven you before. What makes you think she won’t this time? By the way it sounds, she needs you as much as you need her.”

  “Because she turned me down for tonight.”

  “Give her some space and more time.” She pauses. “How do you feel about Olivia?”

  “What?” Her question has thrown me for a loop. What is she talking about? “I just told you.”

  She shakes her head. “No, you said you need her. You didn’t say how you feel about her.”

  I gulp. “Shouldn’t this be something I say to Olivia first?”

  “That right there is exactly what Olivia is talking about. You said she told you that you never talk when you need to, and here’s an example. If you can’t tell me, with our conversations being completely confidential, then how do you expect to tell her? I know it’s a little different, so don’t throw that excuse at me.

  “This girl is the one you need, the one you can talk to, for the most part, and the one you’re about to have a panic attack over the possibility of losing, yet you can’t tell me how you feel about her? Think of it this way. Is this something you want to willingly tell her, or is she going to have to push and prod until you admit it? Which way do you want to tell her?”

  My sweaty hands run over the top of my jeans. “So I should tell her how I feel?”

  “That’s up to you, Corey. All I’m saying is if you know how you feel, maybe you should think about letting her know.”

  Right. But I don’t want to say it because I want her to forgive me, either. “I love her,” I blurt out.

  Ms. Cynthia smiles. “I know.” Of course she does.

  “I just want us to find our balance already between our issues and everything else. We do good some of the time, but it always goes back to that.”

  “Maybe you should bring her in for a session and I can help.”

  I groan. “I’ll think about bringing it up to her,” I tell her honestly.

  “Good. Anything else? Our time is nearly up.”

  “Already?” The word slips out of my mouth with a frown before I realize it.

  She laughs. “Yes. Don’t worry too much about things, Corey. You’re making progress whether it feels like it or not. That’s the most important thing to remember.”

  MY FOOD ARRIVES just as my phone rings with a call from Lucy. I’m at the bar with Nate and some other guys from work. The game just started and I’m starving. Oh well. Excusing myself, I step away from the noise and into a hallway leading to the bathrooms.

  “Hey, Luce. How was your trip?” She came back today.

  “Amazing! I forgot everything I loved about the beach. It was so beautiful, Corey. Grant’s parents are great too. They already told me I could come visit over the summer.”

  I smile at her enthusiasm. “That’s wonderful, Luce. I’m glad y’all had a good time. Guess what I’m doing?”

  “What?”

  “Watching some NHL game. I like it. I’ll go to one of Grant’s games with you next season.”

  She squeals. “Yay! I can’t wait. What made you watch one?”

  “My coworkers like hockey, and they invited me to a bar to watch the game with them.”

  “That’s good! How have you been doing?” she adds softly.

  With a deep breath, I remember my promise of keeping them updated. “Not my best week, but I’m good. Still going to work and to my appointments. My therapist even told me today I’m making progress.”

  “I’m really happy to hear that, Corey. Oh! I almost forgot. You know how beach houses have names? Well, ours was Nepenthe. It was bothering me because I had never heard of it before and it just looked like a weird word. Grant didn’t know what it meant, so we looked it up. The first definition wasn’t as good as the second one, because it said it was a drug or drink or the plant that produces it. Anyway, the second definition was that it’s basically anything that gives you a pleasurable feeling to cause you to forget your sorrow or troubles. I just really liked it, thought it was cool, and definitely perfect for a beach house.”

  My mind immediately thinks of Olivia. That definition is her. She makes me forget my sorrow and troubles. Tossing my football occasionally does the same thing. My job does it too. My world, even when it’s still covered in a darkness, has plenty of nepenthes. Unfortunately, the most important one in my world is mad at me.

  “Corey? Are you still there?” Lucy’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts.

  “Yeah, sorry. I like it too, Luce.”

  “Finally. Jon and Patrick didn’t really care. I knew I could count on my biggest brother.” I laugh. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your friends. I just wanted to call and talk to you for a few minutes.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you next week.”

  “Alright. I love you.”

  “Love you too, Luce. Bye.”

  Physically, I’m eating, talking to Nate, and watching the game. Mentally, I’m with Olivia, planning my next move. Everything Nate is telling me about hockey and how it’s played is going in one ear and out the other. After I finish my meal, though, I do try to focus on the here and now.

  “And he just scored a hat trick,” Nate informs me. The guys are pretty excited by that.

  “A hat trick?”

  “Yeah, he’s scored three goals, which is a hat trick. There are different kinds, but we won’t get into that. How do you not know more if you sister dates a hockey player?”

  “Because she doesn’t understand sports in layman’s terms,” I laugh. “Besides, he’s a goalie and she talks about him more than the overall game anyway.”

  He nods. “Gotcha. So what did you do before you started working with us?”

  “I was in graduate school. I transferred from Salem University.” I pause before deciding, what the hell. “I was on the football team there.”

  “Really? I’m not much of a football fan, but that’s cool. I wasn’t ever good enough for any sport, which is okay. I’d rather watch.” Nate shrugs.

  “Corey?” I turn at the sound of Olivia’s voice. Behind her on the other side of the room are all her friends. They must be her “other plans.” “I thought it was you.” Her eyes flick over my shoulder to where I’m guessing she checks to see what I’m drinking.

  “Hey, Olivia,” Nate says. “No need to check in on Corey. We aren’t planning a repeat of last time,” he laughs.

  “I wasn’t checking in,” she defends. She did check, though. “I didn’t even know he would be here. I was just coming over to say hi.”

  “Hi,” I finally speak. “We’re watching the hockey game.”

  She nods, lingering. “Did everything go okay today?”

  “Perfect.”

  “Good. Well, I better head back to my table.” She turns, but I reach for her elbow, pulling her back to me, close enough so I can whisper into her ear.

  “Have fun with your friends and then come over when you get home. And Olivia?”

  She pulls away to settle those brown eyes on me. “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I forgive you.” Her reply is immediate, instantly relaxing me. Olivia kisses me gently before turning and walking away.

  THE CLICK OF the doorknob turning causes me to sit up on the couch. Olivia is a beautiful sight for my sore eyes.

  “Hey, did I wake you?”

  “No. Come lie with me.”

  “I’m still pissed,” she points out as she walks my way.

  “Lie with me anyway.”

  She does, settling on top of me so I can wrap my arms tightly around her. With her head on my chest, eyes on the black screen of my TV, she says, “You can start apologizing now.”

  I smile for a second before it slips away. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I shouldn’t have said what I did. You’re the first person who has ever forced me to open up and talk, and obviously, I need to learn when not to do that. I need you so much and the thought that it wasn’t the same for you terrified me. I don’t
really think I’m a problem for you to fix. I’m sorry for questioning you. Even Ms. Cynthia basically called me an idiot. I don’t want my issues to be everything with us, and if the answer to any of those questions was yes, then it would be. The thought of that bothered me.”

  Olivia is quiet for longer than I like. When she does speak, it’s not what I was expecting. “Do you remember when I said that I wanted to see you happy?” She doesn’t wait for me to reply. “I feel like I don’t do that enough for you. You’re not as happy as I want you to be, Corey.” Her voice is gentle and I can hear the touch of worry that laces between her words.

  I force a chuckle. “You do realize I was diagnosed with depression, right?”

  At this, she lifts her head to look at me with a frown. “That’s not funny.”

  “I know.” I sigh, hoping it would be a little bit funny anyway. I slide my hands up until I’m cupping her cheeks. “I’m happiest when I’m with you, no matter what else is going on. You’re the only person in this world who can make me happy when I feel everything but that. Are you happy?”

  “Not when you’re a dumbass,” she promptly replies. I laugh. “I still forgive you.”

  “Thank you.” I run my fingers through her hair, resting them at the base of her neck. I pull her towards me as I move my lips towards hers. Kissing her slowly with purpose, I convey how much she means to me. But words are always better with Olivia. She likes the talking part too. I kiss along her jaw up towards her ear, her sigh giving me a high.

  When I reach her ear, I whisper without hesitation, “I don’t always show it or say it, but you do make me happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. I love you, Olivia. There were only three people on my list of those I’d do absolutely anything for, and they were my siblings. You’ve been on that list for a while now too. I wish I could be a more romantic guy for you, but the best I know how to do is say I love you and add you to the list.”

  I lean back to see her smiling. “You’re romantic,” she says. I laugh. “I’m serious, you are. Doing yoga with me is your way of being romantic. Playing video games with you turns me on, so we’ll count that too. What you did on Valentine’s Day was hands down the most romantic gesture I’ve ever seen, and,” she drags out the word as she wraps up her list, “you take care of me when I need you to. So see, you’re romantic and I love you too.”

  “What did you say?” My mind is spinning a million miles an hour.

  “I love—”

  “No, before that.”

  Olivia looks confused. “Um. You take care of me when I need you to?”

  And then it slams into me like a ton of bricks. Last year, my siblings, Grant, and I were at the cemetery for the anniversary of my parents’ funerals. When we were about to leave, I asked my sister, “Are you sure, Luce?” And she replied, “Yes, I’m fine, and he’ll take care of me if I need him to.” I suddenly feel very grateful for Grant. If he does for Lucy like I apparently do for Olivia, then I’m glad he’s with her. I’m glad she has someone who would do anything for her as well.

  “Corey?”

  “Yeah?” I blink and focus on Olivia.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Lucy said the same thing about Grant last year.”

  “Hmph.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “I thought you would be more excited that I said it back.” There’s a teasing tone in her voice that makes me smile.

  “Oh, I’m excited. I’m so excited that I’m going to bed and you’re coming with me.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” she teases as she stands, holding her hand out so she can lead me to my room.

  I’VE BEEN UP for a few hours, unable to sleep since I woke up around three this morning. Today is not a good day. Olivia’s arm slips around my waist as she scoots her naked body closer to my back, which is facing her. I put on a pair of pajama pants when I got up for a glass of water earlier. I interlock our hands to let her know I’m awake.

  “Why do you have a pillow over your head, Corey?”

  “Thought it might help me fall back to sleep.” My voice is muffled from underneath the pillow, but she hears me. I hate that I feel this way, especially after last night. Even more so, I hate the words that come out of my mouth next. “Can you go home? I don’t want to deal with life today.”

  She’s quiet for a moment. “That bad?”

  “Mhm.”

  “I know sometimes during times like this, you don’t want me around,” and I hate there’s a part of me that doesn’t, “but do I have to go? I can lie here with you and be quiet.”

  Rolling over to face her, I ask, “Do you really want to spend a Saturday like that?”

  “For you, yes. If it’s that bad, don’t make me leave, Corey.” There’s a hint of desperation in her voice.

  “Okay.”

  She gets up to use the restroom and dresses when she returns before crawling back into bed with me. I wrap my arms around her waist, burying my face in the crook of her neck as she lays an arm over me. And we lie there in silence. My forehead is pressed against her neck. Breathing in her scent calms and soothes me, making the world a little more bearable.

  Her stomach grumbles after an hour or so, but she doesn’t leave.

  “Go eat, Olivia.”

  “Do you want something?”

  “No.” I’m not hungry at all. Probably won’t be until dinner time.

  She sighs. Begrudgingly, she heads to the kitchen without me. About fifteen minutes later, she returns and we resume our positions. I should have known Olivia couldn’t keep her end of the bargain and be quiet. I give her props that it takes her almost three hours, though. “What are you thinking about?” That’s her question.

  “Nothing,” I reply. “No talking.”

  “Nothing? Like nothing at all? How is that possible?” She ignores me, being entirely too curious.

  “Olivia.” Her name is a mixture of a sigh and a groan. All of my quickly building irritation falls away. I feel like shit, but it doesn’t mean I have to treat her that way. I can answer her. “I’m not thinking, okay? About anything at all. My mind is clear, empty, and focused entirely on how you feel. That’s how it’s possible.”

  “How do I feel?” she whispers.

  “Like everything I’ve ever needed in this world wrapped up in one beautiful body.”

  “Sounds like I feel amazing.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. “You do.”

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  While talking isn’t on my high priority to-do list, I can play along with simple questions like that. “Red. Yours?”

  “Yellow because it’s bright and happy.” Figures. Her response makes me smile, though.

  “What’s your favorite day of the week?” I toss out one of my own.

  Olivia grins. “Saturday. What’s yours?”

  “Monday.”

  “Monday? Everyone hates Mondays and that’s your favorite day of the week?” she skeptically asks.

  “Yeah. Monday puts an end to the previous week and starts a new one. There’s hope in every Monday that the upcoming week will be better than the last.”

  She nods in understanding, but then her eyes widen. “When is your birthday? I can’t believe I don’t know. Mine is—”

  “August 18,” I finish for her. “I’ve seen your ID, remember? Mine is March 20.”

  “Corey! That’s next week! If I hadn’t asked, I would have missed your birthday. Were you planning on telling me this?”

  I chuckle. “Of course.”

  “When?” she demands.

  “A day or two before. I usually go down to see my siblings and have dinner, but not sure what we’ll end up doing this year with everyone’s schedule and it being during the week.”

  Her lips part. “A day or two before?! I can’t shop for a birthday present with so little time.”

  “Just buy some ribbon and make a few bows around your body. There’s my present.”

  She roll
s her eyes. “I’ll think about it. Favorite season?”

  Without thinking, I reply, “Football season.” Oh. “Um, I mean, fall. I’m not really a fan of the beach, even though we don’t live around one, so summer won’t make the cut. Spring is nice, so it would be second. You wear hoodies all winter, so that’s out too.”

  Her smile is small. “Told ya you’re a hoodie-hater. Will you go to one of Patrick’s games next season? This will be his last year, right? I’ll go with you.”

  I’ve felt bad because I didn’t watch Jon play any during his last season. Could I go to my old field and watch my baby brother play the game I used to play with him? I do miss being able to talk football with them. “You’ll go with me?” She nods in reassurance. “Yeah, I want to go. What’s your favorite season?”

  “Winter.” She winks. “I love hoodies.”

  Her statement brings to mind an old memory and I leave her in bed, walking briskly to my closet.

  “What are you doing?”

  I grab a box down from the top shelf, my heart hammering and beating my chest as I drop the white cardboard container at the foot of my bed.

  “What’s in the box?” she questions, sitting up and criss-crossing her legs.

  Swallowing hard, I reply, “My football stuff. I didn’t throw it all away.”

  Olivia seems surprised and confused. I wipe my hands on my pajama pants, take a deep breath, and open it. I don’t have to rummage far to find why I got this down to start with. My football hoodie. I take it out and sit down next to Olivia, rubbing my thumbs over the fabric where I’m holding it. There’s so many memories wrapped up in this one piece of clothing. Pregame fun, the parties, time with my brothers, it’s all here. Olivia rests her head on my shoulder, a silent motion of support. It’s enough to get me talking.

  “I still don’t want to wear it, but since you love hoodies, you can.”

  At this, she lifts her head and I turn to look at her. “Really? You want me to wear your football hoodie?”

  “Yeah, if you want to.”

  She grins as if she just kicked my ass in the racing game. Olivia takes the hoodie from me and slips it on. It’s way too big, the sleeves too long, but she says, “Fits perfect.”

 

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