by Liz Schulte
She glanced down at herself and made a face. A moment later she was shrouded in sparkling moonlight, which drew me to it like gravity. When the light faded she wore fresh, blood free jeans and a t-shirt and looked much more like my Olivia. As tempting as she was in the white dress, this was how I pictured her in my mind, casual and effortless. My shift in thoughts seemed to bring color back to her cheeks, and she snapped her mind closed, leaving me empty—but not for long. The void was quickly filled with bitterness.
“Neat trick,” I said quietly, my throat feeling like it would close.
She nodded, but didn’t say anything. I couldn’t quite place what I saw in her eyes. It definitely wasn’t happiness and not quite fear.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, barely containing the steady stream of indignation rolling through my mind about her actions since she came back.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
Olivia shrugged.
Our connection may not have changed, but Olivia had. My Olivia was vibrant and filled with understated passion. She would have yelled or thrown herself into my arms by now. This Olivia was reserved and withdrawn. I felt like if I yelled at her, like I wanted to, she would pass out. I got up and paced around the room. I didn’t care which Olivia was here with me, I’d save her if I could. There had to be a way to escape. She watched me search the tiny room to no avail, keeping a wide gap between the two of us. When I was satisfied that there was absolutely no way out, I had nothing left to distract me from the feelings boiling just underneath the surface. I might never see her again. I had to know the truth, no matter what it was.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were back?” It came out harder than I intended, as anger gnawed at my insides.
Her face went through a range of emotions. First sadness, then resolve, then irritation. Finally she settled on her own apparent rage. Her eyes sparked with lightning.
“What makes you think you deserved to know I was back?” Her voice was clipped and soft.
What did they do, brainwash these people? “You too? Christ, Olivia, I’m a jinni, not Satan.” The room managed to go from calm to volatile in a less than a second, just like old times.
“Like that ever made the least bit of difference to me, Holden!”
“Then what did? Please enlighten me. Why did I not deserve to know? Please explain, because I think I deserved to know, especially since I’m the only one who sacrificed a God damned thing in all of this.” All my pain morphed into something ugly and infinitely dangerous.
“You were there. You know exactly what you did." She rolled her eyes. "You were never the person I thought you were. You let me believe in you. Do you remember what he did to me, Holden? How could you stand by and let that happen? How could you smile and laugh with him, while he tore pieces from my soul?" She ran her hands through her hair. "I’m not the girl I used to be. I see things much more clearly now, and I have you to thank for that. I believe I can trace it back to the moment you put a bullet in my brain." She stepped towards me, fists clenched at her sides.
"Or maybe you did love me just a little. At least you put me out of my misery.” Her eyes continued flashing like a thunderstorm was raging on inside of her. This was my Olivia. This creature filled with passion and emotion, with a temper like a fuse and a heart like butter.
Her resentment only fueled my own. That energy and intensity took over, making me want to simultaneously shake and kiss her. Olivia was back.
"The only thing I could do was watch and play along. Had I made a move before I did, he’d have dealt with me and you would have been alone. He used me against you, and you folded. You just gave up. I told you not to go, but you wouldn't listen. You never listen. You forced me into that position. You do not get to be mad about the outcome.”
She laughed bitterly. “Well, I’m glad you made it through unscathed.”
“Unscathed, unscathed? Is that what you call this?" I poked my own chest forgetting the bullet wounds until physical pain shot through me. I ignored it, too consumed with anger to think of anything else. "I’m sorry, I've obviously been operating under a misapprehension. I thought you understood me better than that. Let me spell it out for you. Death would have been preferable to what I’ve been living with. I would have gladly accepted hell over these last four years of my life. You felt what it was like for me to be dead for what, an hour? I lived with four years of it.”
"Then why did you do it? Why did you wait so long? If you wanted to go to hell, you could have made your move at any time. Why watch him do that to me?”
“I couldn't abandon you. I naively thought my staying would keep you from doing something monumentally ignorant. I had hoped we would make it out. But apparently my staying only assured your stupidity. You weren't supposed to give in. That wasn't part of the plan—your plan. You should never have let him use me as leverage."
"The only reason you were leverage was because when push came to shove, there was only one choice I was ever going to make. I knew it, Quintus knew it, and I thought you knew it too. It didn't matter if a demon or an angel stood in front of me. I would have always chosen you over any of the rest of it. But you couldn't do the same for me."
I laughed, knowing it would send her into a rage. Part of me loved watching her angry and yelling at me. Anything was better than the wide, blank eyes she’d had moments ago. Her hands tightened until her knuckles turned white. “That’s what you think?” I scoffed. “You’ve been hiding from me for four years, and that’s the best you could come up with? That I didn’t love you? You could read my fucking mind. How do you think I faked that or anything with you? Did I never once get the benefit of a doubt?”
She threw her arms to her sides like the martyr she had turned herself into. “What was there to doubt? I offered you everything. Everything! And you cast it away as if it were nothing. I was stupid and naïve. I believed in you. I believed in us. I believed we would find a way. But you stole that from me, Holden. Now I can never have it again.”
“I wanted it too, just not like that.”
“Oh really? Funny because you made it impossible. So what was it? You weren't ready to settle down? Got the jitters at the idea of spending an eternity with me? I wasn't pretty enough? Funny enough? Interesting enough? What? Where did I come up short in all of this?"
“Olivia,” I said patiently, trying to keep my temper, though her anger made it increasing impossible. I always underestimated how much her feelings affected my own. “I had no choice."
"That's because it wasn't your choice, Holden. It was mine."
"You made the wrong decision."
"Obviously." That one word spoke volumes. She didn't just mean nearly deciding to be a jinni. She meant me. I was the wrong choice. I stung like she slapped me. "You loved me so much and were so honorable at the end. I must have changed you deeply. What exactly have you been doing with your life? Please tell me all of the wonderful things you’ve done while I was gone. What did you do to make me want to come back to you?”
"It's not like that. You have no idea."
"Well, as you said, enlighten me."
"Any humanity I had left died with you." I sighed, not wanting to see the disappointment on her face when I told her all I had done since she left. How I had earned my new post— "Is this really the only thing that's been bothering you?”
Her eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a firm line. “I think this is plenty to deal with at the moment.”
“You accused me of knowing what I did that night. Well, let me elaborate on exactly what I did. I remember everything that happened. I have been haunted by each and every one of your screams. Your pain washed over me that night and scorched my memory each and every day. I catalogued every bone break, every bruise, every fucking finger he laid on you. Don’t think it hasn’t played over and over again in my mind. I have yet to pass a day without remembering it, without feeling it always in the back of my head. Standing idly by while he hurt y
ou without letting my feelings show . . . you have no idea what that did to me. Hell, Olivia, I can’t even sleep anymore. That was the hardest, most painful thing I ever had to do, and I did it for you. No one else.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry it was such an inconvenience for you.” Her sarcasm dripped from each word she spit from her mouth. “I mean, poor you. You had to watch all the horrors befall me. How could you stand such a thing? It was so much easier to actually experience it firsthand.”
“Yes, I guess ‘inconvenient’ is one way to put it. Tell me, Livi, were you always this sanctimonious or does it just come with the job?”
Olivia eyes widened. I couldn’t decide if she was about to blow her lid again or start laughing. She seemed to be struggling with some sort of mental battle. The lightning drained from her eyes, leaving only a lively twinkle. She covered her mouth with her hand to block a smile. Thank God she knew somewhere in that mass of anger that she was being ridiculous.
She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I’ve missed you.” Her voice rang loud and clear inside my mind, while her eyes liquefied once again. The intimacy was almost too much to bear with all the exposed nerves. I couldn't return it.
“You’ve been blocking me for the past year?” The tension may have melted from the cell, but situation hadn’t changed. The bruised feelings were still the same and new wounds were opened wide.
“Not quite a year. How do you know how long I’ve been back?”
“Don’t avoid the question. You’ve been purposefully blocking me?”
She nodded. "It was a matter of survival."
"I would never hurt you."
She lifted an eyebrow.
"Well, except for the shooting you thing—you know what I mean."
Olivia shook her head, her eyes closing. “It takes an amazing amount of energy and focus to block you out. I never realized how hard it must be for you to keep everything you feel so neatly tucked away all of the time. I couldn’t do it. There were times . . .” She sighed. “It was for the best.”
Her actions were a knee in the balls. I tried not to dwell on them, as in all likelihood we would both be dead very soon, and I might as well enjoy the time I had with her, not focus on resentment and anger. As she would say, I neatly tucked those feelings away somewhere deep inside.
“I wish you hadn’t done that.” I may have decided not to be bitter, but I wasn’t letting her off the hook. She needed to understand.
"Let my walls down or put them up?" she asked, watching me.
Now that was a good question. Had she not put them up, I would’ve known right away, but what would that have done? The situation would have been the same. We couldn't be together, but I would have known she was safe. I would have stopped beating myself up over her. However, I also would have obsessed and never accomplished what I accomplished when I thought I had nothing to live for.
And if she’d kept the walls up permanently, I would be clueless right now. "I wanted to know you were back, but if you didn't intend to speak with me or listen to me, I wish you’d done a better job with your walls instead of torturing me."
Her head tilted, but she didn’t respond. I couldn’t read her face, so I tried probing her mind. “Stop,” she said firmly.
“You’re the one who said you missed me.” I took a step towards her.
She sighed. “I do . . . I did.”
“You have all the control over that—and you have had this entire time. When I knew you were back, I could have come to you, but I didn’t. I gave you space. I could have pushed into your mind like I did that night, but I felt your pain at my being there. I don’t want to hurt you, but I want you to let me in. Make us whole again.” I could hide my anger from her. I could forgive anything she had done to me if she would just say she was still mine. If these were our last moments together, I wanted to be with her as we were.
“Holden, this conversation hasn’t changed anything. Nothing is resolved. My feelings haven’t changed. We can't be together. If we’re suddenly released and could go our separate ways, I wouldn’t do anything different.”
What was she saying? Her part of our conversation replayed in my mind. “You said you didn’t care that I was a jinni. Do you care now?”
Her eyes met mine. They were direct and expressive. Her pain and loss came at me in tidal waves I recognized well. “Before, I had the benefit of not truly understanding what that meant,” she whispered.
“And now you understand?” My voice matched hers. I wouldn’t have believed she could have caused me any more pain than I already felt. Part of me wanted to stop her from saying the words I knew she was going to say, but I needed to hear them.
“I have seen the effects with my own eyes,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I've fought to help those whose lives had been touched by jinn. I have met other jinn and been repulsed by them, and what they are. Let’s just say, I understand what Quintus warned me against.” She seemed far away from me, as if she was no longer seeing me.
How could she think of me as anything but a monster? That was exactly what I was. We all were. I nodded to her slowly, understanding what she was not saying. It dropped to the bottom of my stomach in a thick knot. I repulsed her now.
I had evaded her question about what I had been doing. Now seemed like as good a time as any to get all of the disappointment out of the way. “I’m the new North American Commander, at least I was. I may not be for much longer.”
She bowed her head, perhaps to shield me from her disappointment. Quintus had told me to honor her life by being a better person, but I failed. Honestly, I didn’t really try. I was more worried about numbing myself than about making improvements.
“North American Commander, impressive. Do I even want to know how you got that promotion?”
“Probably not.” The air between us was thick, but it wasn’t angry. It was much worse than that. It was filled with resignation. “Let’s just say I didn’t handle your death well. I had a lot of pent up anger, and it made me all the better at my work.” I glossed over the details, because I didn't want to get into it. I wanted to hear about her; hear about the one thing in my life I managed to do right, every dying man’s wish. “How is it you’re a guardian, yet you have no light?”
“I repress it.” She gave me a half shrug and looked at her feet. “I don’t think I’m a very good guardian, but I’m trying.”
“Well, aren’t you just full of walls and repressed emotion these days?” I teased, trying to get her to look back at me. “Why do you repress the light?”
Her gaze stayed locked on my shoes. “So I don’t draw attention to myself. I feel more comfortable that way.”
“No one else is here. I think the secret’s out for those in the room.”
“It makes you uncomfortable, and despite what you may believe from my actions, I don’t want to see you suffer.”
Was I her new Christopher? She had told me once she didn’t want her ex-boyfriend to suffer. All she wanted was for him to be happy—and not in her life. Was I the same way to her now? “I want to see it.”
She bit her lip, then nodded. Slowly a white light began pouring forth from her. Her light didn’t pain me or burn my eyes like Quintus's. It made me tingle as if every one of my nerves were sparking with sensation. It was warm and accepting, just like Olivia had been. Perhaps as she still was with other people. I moved closer to her, enchanted by the wonderful diamond like glow. My hand reached out to touch the soft halo. It was so beautiful. I would have given anything to be a part of it. I took another step, wanting to be fully immerged in it. The light retracted away from me as I moved closer.
“What’s happening?”
“Your freckles are starting to show. If I remember correctly that means I’m burning you.” She gently ran a finger over the bridge of my nose, closing her eyes against her own pain.
“I miss you too,” I whispered, my lips nearly touching hers. I heard her breath catch in her throat and a tear slipped from her ey
elid. I leaned the rest of the way in to kiss her and was met with her cheek.
“I can’t do this, Holden.” She put a hand on my chest, her breath shallow, tears freely falling. “I love you. I’ll probably always love you, but I can’t be with you. There's no way we can . . . be together. You see, I need to learn to let you go, as you have me. You found a way to move on in your world, and I don't blame you for that. I’m happy for you. You seem to be doing well. I have to do the same in mine. Each day it feels as if my heart is being shoved through a meat grinder, but—” she swallowed hard, fighting for composure. “But I have to have faith it will get better, that I can live without you.”
She so candidly described the last few years of my life without her. She thought I had moved on, but nothing was further from the truth. She sounded so wretched I didn’t want to tell her that there was no hope of moving on without me. If anyone could do it, maybe it was Olivia. Perhaps I could give her up if I was assured of her happiness. “Olivia—”
“You have no idea how hard this is for me. I smell your shirt just to feel closer to you, and I think about you all of the time. You still consume me, but I need find Olivia in this tangled mess of a person I’ve become. If I were to kiss you now, then deny myself ever having that luxury again, I may never make it back.”
“What shirt of mine could you possibly have?”
She smiled. “I created it from memory. The black button down one I wore…” Her voice trailed off as her cheeks colored.
I chuckled, slipping my arms around her despite everything she had just said. “I know exactly how you feel. I have that same shirt hanging in my closet. It’s the only thing I have left that still smells like you. I also have your camera. I was saving it in case you came back.”
“Are you trying to make this harder?” She lay her hands on my cheeks. “You have to stop being so wonderful to only me.”