Paper Dolls

by Emma Chamberlain

  Paper Dolls

  Book Six

  Chamberlain & Stone

  Introduction

  Welcome back to the Paper Dolls Series!

  It’s taken us a long time to get this book out for many conflicting reasons. Hopefully Book 7 will not take as long to release. We’ve lit a fire under our butts to try and hurry this narrative along for you. There have been a lot of eager people asking for this book to just release already.

  As usual, we must warn for mature content including: sex, language, and troubling subject matter (mental health struggles and mentions of abuse & rape).

  This installment does contain some triggering material straight out of the gate and there are also scenes later on that might be triggering for some. We always intended to follow a very complex relationship as it does try to grow. Be aware that there is certainly triggering material in this series and this book.

  We pick up exactly where we left off:

  Olivia has received a letter from Benjamin Bradford and she has found that Avery has already opened and read the secret words without her knowledge or consent…

  The Letter

  Chapter 1

  Olivia

  Ben’s letter hung in my hands. I hadn’t even read anything yet and my hands were already shaking. More than anything else, I knew that Avery Lockhart was not okay. To come home and find her exhausted from emotions? That wasn’t common for us.

  So, I was shaking. Avery already knew what I was about to take in. She’d be expecting certain reactions from me. Always my audience in these situations. I never reacted the ways she thought I would. We were very different.

  Her body was close to mine, inches away. In moments like these I could feel how fragile she really was, like a wisp on the wind.

  My mind wandered.

  Why did this have to happen like this?

  Stupidly, I’d forgotten about the letter I’d sent. It’d been ages since. With the elapsed time and emotional distance, I thought Ben just threw it out. And I was fine with that. That was good.

  This though…

  “Do you want me to leave?” Avery asked, sensing my discomfort.

  “What?” I looked up at her, already lost. “No, Baby… I mean, not unless you want to. No...”

  I couldn’t say yes…

  When I’d gotten home, she had hugged me so tight. That wasn’t a happy hug. She’d been scared. The paper in my hands, the writing that laced its pages, all of it rattled her, made her so small and easy to tear.

  This paper was Ben…

  “No,” Avery decided. “You need to do this alone. I’ll go to the living room but- just, tell me if you want me.”

  She got up. It wasn’t easy for her to leave. There was hesitance, of course, worry. She looked at me the whole time, walking with patience and a careful mind. I couldn’t garner that myself, not right now. “I love you. Remember that,” Avery whispered. The she disappeared through the doorway and left me alone. The silence hung over me. Like many others, I’d created this mess.

  What could be in this letter that could scare her that much?

  When she acted weird like this, it easily got to me. More than a letter or Ben’s words. The way Avery sorted through new events, new information, terrified me. There was such a lack of control. I couldn’t know that or experience it. As I said, we are very different.

  Alone with my mistakes, my heart beat sputtered. There was apparently danger in reading something small like this - a tiny slip of thoughts from someone trapped and jailed, someone rejected. My body felt the significance of the moment, every part of me came alive.

  “It’s a stupid paper,” I whispered to myself. “Just words.”

  My own voice was small and pathetic. I always sounded different when I was talking just to myself.

  Ben’s writing covered the paper. It spread from bottom to top. No empty space upon which to annotate or grade. Appealing chicken-scratch covered every inch of the blank paper and made it a thing. I used to love Ben’s handwriting, long romantic strokes. His writing looked like something out of a museum; something important. He was like one of the founding fathers with his pen and inkwell. But I knew this was written in jail with the cheapest and most standard ballpoint and the rare scrap of paper he was gifted or maybe even had to pay for with time. Any romantic thought I used to have about him felt like a bit of a cancer on my lungs. A spot of black tar. A thick heavy vapor I couldn’t root out or cough away.

  After I spoke aloud I worried that maybe Avery had heard me. She already found me to be uncharacteristically crazy. Talking to myself wasn’t going to prove her wrong or ease her mind. I held my breath a second before letting it out.

  Fears aside, I let myself take in Ben’s forbidden words, the words of an old friend turned enemy.

  Dear Olivia,

  Forgive me for the semi-belated nature of this reply. I’d been restricted due to my pre-sentencing status. I couldn’t send or receive any personal mail that did not relate to the upcoming trial, especially mail from someone like you. Please don’t assume my meaning on that. I simply mean someone young, someone from Huntington, someone I could further damage, further harm.

  It was weird to hear Ben. It was his voice. Even though it was just paper and words. I could hear the man I knew, the friend I’d had. I could just see him in his cell writing this. The thought actually hurt. I didn’t think of him much in his cell, until now. I thought of him still in his classroom. Strange… That was dumb.

  I read on:

  I’ve rewritten this letter several times. Every time I try to write it again it sounds worse. I’m sorry you’re having dreams about me. I’m sorry you have to think about me at all. If I had it my way I’d go through great lengths to erase my entire existence from your mind. You never deserved to have to deal with any of my shit and for that I am truly filled with remorse.

  You’re the only person who ever made me want to be a better man.

  What…

  He went on:

  You’re the only person who personally visited me Olivia.

  You’re the only person who wanted to talk to me, wanted to find out why I did what I did.

  You’re the only person who seemed even a little hurt or protective or skeptical about what I’d been accused of and/or done.

  His wording was important. I noticed it. There were clues here, lots of clues. He was reminding me that the trial hadn’t happened.

  “What I’d been accused of and/or done.” I spun the words around, the phrasing burned. He’d already confessed to me in person, he’d done it all, there were no lies from Avery. That conversation at the courthouse had been in private. And it had probably been coded. I couldn’t remember. I wanted to recall.

  Would the jail record such conversations? Maybe I could get my hands on such a thing. Maybe my mother already had it. Maybe she listened to it alone in her private chambers at the courthouse right after I went away with my heaviness that bad day.

  I closed my eyes and tried to bring back what he had said to me then, what I’d said…

  My eyes burned. I couldn’t remember much. A horrible feeling, to lose sight of the facts.

  I read on:

  And the worst thing about all that is you’re the only person I wish would disown me altogether. The only person I’d want to possibly torture me brutally, and leave me to bleed-out like a piece of trash on the ground.

  What the actual fuck…

  Rage filled me. Undiluted, violent, rage.

  I was suddenly shockingly aware that Avery had read this disgusting crap. Avery had fucking read this. Why had she read this?!

  I wanted to pull out my hair. I stood up and tensed the paper in my hands. I pulled it so hard at both edges. My hands
were like fists. I almost tore the paper but I found some restraint.

  Looking down, I saw, I hadn’t even read halfway through. There was more, a lot more.

  “Goddammit!” I huffed.

  I wanted to yell at her. I wanted to be mad. I was mad at him, obviously. But she had let herself read this shit?! The girl who had fears and terrors of this idiotic cruel fucking man, she had willingly let him inside her again. Why had she done it?!

  All I felt was thick rage but I had to finish it now. She’d already read it all. I needed to know what she’d read.

  Thank you for sending me your dream. I know you just wanted to talk to me. You must’ve been having a low-point. You don’t need to explain. I know you. I just feel bad talking back. I feel bad but I know I owe you more than I could ever owe anyone so I’m forcing myself to write to you now.

  MORE THAN HE OWES ANYONE?! HOW?! IN WHAT WORLD?! WHAT THE FUCK IS HE EVEN TALKING ABOUT?!

  I kept reading. I had to know what Avery knew.

  Your dream happened as it would in life. I would let you drive a knife deep into my chest because you’re the only person in the past few years who has really made me feel seen and alive.

  I can’t write that away. I can’t forget that. Despite where I am now, I wish I could do everything again.

  Everything…

  That part burned. Everything included what he’d done to Avery. Everything included that. He had to know.

  All I know is, I don’t deserve to be monopolizing your mind. You’re a better person than I am. I wish you only good things. Which has always been the truth.

  No one really knows me like you do.

  I had to stop. There was so much more but I had to stop for a second. This was so ass-backwards.

  And all this time I’d thought it was in my head. I thought I’d been so delusionally embarrassing and AVERAGE. I thought I was seeing things that weren’t there, putting too much stock into the out of place sort of friendship I thought he and I had shared. Avery had already made me feel like such an idiot about all of this. She made me downplay what had really gone on, the kind of relationship that terrified my mother now that she knew what he was.

  Ben did, he did know me.

  And Avery made me feel like it was all a game to him. Was this a game?

  What was she thinking out there?

  What had this done to her?

  God, I was so fucking stupid… Why did I write him? I shouldn’t have done it. I never think about things like this. I never once thought he would write and she would read it. My mail is my mail. And I can keep secrets. I mean, fuck, we aren’t even married yet.

  Anyway, I just wanted to at least write you back once. I think about you all of the time. I find my mind filled up with you. I think about you in class… How I’d watch you when you didn’t know I was watching. I think about you and Natalie… The things I’ve seen… You and Avery… The way you are with her, so protective...

  You’re better than her Olivia. Don’t forget that. You two are not the same.

  Fuck…

  I couldn’t fix this...

  She shouldn’t have read this.

  Tears rushed up into my eyes and I had to fight to try and keep them. They burned and found their way over the rims of my eyelids.

  I couldn’t fix this…

  I may have chosen her but you’re better. That’s why I couldn’t touch you. I couldn’t do to you what they say I’ve done to her. Don’t even have a doubt about that. It’s all complicated. If I ever did that to you I would probably kill myself. You’re not meant to be touched that way.

  “What does that even mean!” I gasped, tears falling as I struggled to stop them from falling down on the paper and staining it. My hand fumbled its way up to my mouth as I held it to try and stop myself from making shaky pathetic noise. If Avery was listening she knew exactly what I was feeling. I didn’t need her worrying about me. This was more damaging to her. To me it was just, wrong. Just… Fucked.

  The whole time I’ve known you, I’ve had dreams of you and I. Dreams where we’re normal, in love.

  I was really crying now… Really crying.

  I couldn’t hide it. It was loud. It’s how I felt. My throat burned and ached.

  Dreams we have a house together, a life, and a baby. Dreams we make love under the sun and I’m actually happy with that, happy with just making love. In my dreams, I’m so full with you I don’t need anyone else. You know, in truth, I don’t even like people. Just you… In my dreams I’m scared of hurting you.

  I didn’t want to know this… It wasn’t fair…

  Mostly… I didn’t want Avery knowing this...

  If you know anything at all about what they say I did then you know these dreams aren’t like me at all. My tastes are dark, Olivia. With you, I see light. And I know I don’t deserve that after what they say I’ve done. True or not. I’m a bad man. A sick man.

  I know you don’t deserve to be having to think about all my fucked up mental shit. I’m just telling you because you shared with me and we’ve always shared.

  The whole time I knew you though, I kept things from you. Things like Avery. Things like my dreams.

  I kept things from you because I knew once you knew everything you would see me as a monster.

  You should see me that way.

  I am a monster.

  I’m not worthy of concern or focus.

  I’m definitely not worthy of love.

  I’m only writing you to tell you these things.

  I’m writing you to ask you not to write me again.

  When you write me I see hope in a future with you and that’s crazy, I know it is. For both of us.

  Despite everything, I gasped.

  He knew how to get me to stop…

  He was giving me that.

  If you want me to think you’re in love with me, write again.

  It wouldn’t be smart.

  It wasn’t smart the first time.

  Be smart Olivia. You’re smart. Be smart.

  For your sake, I wish I could disappear forever from your life but I know you. I know I’ll see you again like I know the sun will rise tomorrow morning and then set. You’ll come to the trial. You’ll testify against me if you’re asked. I know you. I want you to testify. I want you to punish me. No one else really can. Please don’t feel bad about these things.

  I wish I could say I was sorry for what I may have done to that girl but I can’t.

  He couldn’t even name her…

  He couldn’t even appreciate her enough to say her goddamn name.

  If he really loved me he’d confess.

  But maybe he did really love me and he knew if proven guilty, instead of confessing, he would get more time than if he had confessed.

  I'm not saying what I did. I’m not saying what I didn’t do. All I am saying is she wasn’t the first I dated and she probably won’t be the last.

  My only regret in all of this is that you had to be involved.

  I let you down. You were my closest friend and I let you down.

  I am sorry.

  I’ll always love you. I’m pretty sure of that now. These last few years you’ve actually been like my family.

  I put up walls and distance but you were the only one who really came close. I watched you all the time. You never knew.

  But yeah, I never deserved you and I never can.

  Take care of yourself. Steer clear of me.

  Go and solve all those mysteries you’ve been itching to solve and please stop having unnecessary guilt and tortured dreams that involve me. At this point, I would actually pay you to stab me like that if I thought it would help you. I know it’s what I truly deserve. But I don’t think it would help you, baby. And I want you to feel pleasure. I want you to feel carried and full, the way I feel when I dream about you.

  I do love you.

  But I know that’s unfair of me and just wrong.

  You deserve a happy life and you could never have that with m
e so please move on from this and try to forget I was ever around. This isn’t a pity party. This is me asking you. Please. Do this for me, Olivia. Make a small space for me in the corner of your mind and shut that door. I want you to be able to forget.

  I’ll always be dedicated to you secretly, in my way. Your mind is just… It’s no secret, you’re brilliant. The way you talk when you feel free and encouraged... You’re an addicting person and you’ll do brilliant things in this life. I’ve no doubt and it saddens me to have to miss that. I only wish I was worthy to stand by your side. But I’m not. And that’s fact. I’ll probably always think about you but I’ll also always know I let you down more than anyone else in your life and for that I’ll always hate myself and that’s okay because I need that, I need to remember I’m a bad man.