I couldn’t.
The answer was staring me in the face, but I sat and cried, not wanting to acknowledge it.
Finally, I got up.
Quietly, I gathered my things, which seemed to have exploded all over Xavier’s apartment. I packed my bag up and then called for a cab.
I could call the airline on the way to the airport.
But I couldn’t stay.
At the door, I took a last look around the apartment.
“I’m sorry,” I said to the quiet room. “I wanted to stay.”
The door made no noise as it closed behind me.
* * *
Just before boarding the plane, I sent a text to Xavier. It was a picture of what I’d seen, and then I sent another.
‘You deserve better. I can’t live like this, with this, having to see it. I’m sorry. I’ll always care about you.’
It seemed inadequate to cover why I was leaving, but he would know what upset me. I didn’t want to send him a weeping text because that was even more pathetic.
It nearly killed me that I’d found a guy I could be with and thought I was falling for, and I had to leave.
He didn’t leave me, he wasn’t the asshole—it was me.
I couldn’t trust. I couldn’t handle the scrutiny. The rush to make problems where there were none on the part of the press. And the women.
I couldn’t handle the women.
The kind of women that Xavier would have following him until he died. He was that sexy.
No.
It was better that I leave, and let him find someone who could manage it, and not fall apart, or need constant reassurance, or whatever it was I needed.
For Pete’s sakes. I didn’t even know what it was that I needed. But I couldn’t take the knife in the heart on a regular basis, and it wasn’t Xavier’s problem to fix it for me.
Once the plane took off, I started to cry in earnest.
This was my fault.
For the first time, I couldn’t get what I wanted, and it was all my fault.
Xavier
I felt the sun on my face, and I rolled over, reaching for Livvie.
The space next to me was empty and cold.
I sat up.
How had she gotten up so early? We’d had the most amazing sex I’d ever had. I’d nearly told her I loved her, but that was pretty high on the creeper factor. I’d kissed her instead, telling her with my body.
I smiled. Maybe we could do it again this morning, and then go out and have a long, lazy brunch. That sounded like a great fucking way to end this weekend.
Swinging my legs out of bed, I pulled on my sweats to go see what she thought of my fantastic plan.
But when I went out into the living room, it was quiet and still.
“Livvie?” I said.
No answer.
What the fuck?
“Livvie!” I shouted.
There was no one to respond.
Where was she?
I found my phone and saw that she’d texted me.
Oh, holy shit.
I looked at the picture she’d sent. And the text.
‘You deserve better. I can’t live like this, having to see it, with this. I’m sorry. I’ll always care about you.’
Those fucking women in the hallway. Groping me, kissing me—where had the pap been? That asshole. I looked at the byline, and I recognized the name.
It was the guy who wanted a picture of Olivia and me with Marcus and Kristine. Guess this was his way of telling me to fuck off with my refusal.
A wave of anger rolled through me, feeling like a rising wave that would pull me under.
I punched a number. I needed to deal with this before I tried to talk to Olivia. I was so mad, and I didn’t want to talk to her mad.
Plus, I felt guilty. I lived such a fucked up life, who could blame her? She didn’t, but she was honest that this wasn’t for her.
Which made sense when you looked at my exes. What kind of woman could handle this?
The sort I’d ended it with.
No, I would talk with Olivia, but not until after I took care of this asshole.
“Brandon, you fuck, you’re going down,” I muttered.
“What in the hell do you want?” Tibby’s tired voice finally answered.
“I want you to file harassment charges for me,” I said.
“What?” She was awake now.
“I was assaulted when I went out last night. I didn’t make a fuss, because I knew no one would believe me. I want to file charges with the NYPD, and I have pictures to show it happened.” I was so mad, I could feel my heart racing, and my hand not holding the phone clenched and unclenched without me even thinking about it.
Tibby could hear it.
“Okay, slow down, X. Tell me what happened.”
“Go to your computer, Tib. I’ll show you.”
“Good night, Maggie,” she muttered. “Hang on. I’m all naked and shit,” she added.
My anger eased a little. Tibby could always make me laugh.
I could hear Seth in the background, and she said something in response, but she was trying to be quiet.
Then her voice came back, and she was All-Business Tibby.
“Okay, I’m at my desk. What is it I need to see?”
I directed her to the site.
“Oh, X, these pics of you are great! Is that Olivia? She’s really gorgeous. Like, too gorgeous for you! What is so ba—oh.”
She stopped.
“Yeah. Oh.”
“Okay, that’s a big downer for the night. How did this happen?”
I explained, starting with the Brandon asshole who wanted our pic, to the fact that he was the guy who had taken this one of the women with me, and how Olivia had found it.
“She left. She left, Tib. She told me that I deserved better because she couldn’t handle this.”
“She said that to you?”
“Well, she sent me a text.”
“A text?” Her voice rose. “She broke up with you via a text message?”
“I understand why she did it,” I defended her.
“I don’t!”
“I do. You don’t know the whole story,” I said.
“Before I do anything, you need to tell me everything. Everything, X. I’m not going out on a limb to help you with someone who isn’t worth your time.”
So while it made me grit my teeth to not be on top of the asshole who took the pics, and the women who were probably planted to make the pics, I explained.
About Livvie, and where she was with her ex.
Her fears. Her hurt.
How we’d fought after I disappeared for a weekend.
The way we’d made up.
And how she’d agreed to trust me.
Finally, I told her how Olivia didn’t blame me for this latest shitty mess, but herself.
“I get it,” I finished. “My life isn’t easy for someone who isn’t all fame hungry or doesn’t have an agenda. She’s got an asshole ex, but her life is pretty normal.”
“Then why do you want her back?” Tibby asked. Her voice was softer than normal.
“Because I’ve been looking at the people who want to be part of the world I work in, and they are insane. You know that. Do I need to remind you? Marcia?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. She’s a damn nut. Maybe this is just too far the other way?” Tibby didn’t sound like she was going to be convinced.
“I want her, Tib. And I think she wants me.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“Not yet. She’s probably on a plane, for one, and two, I’m pissed. I don’t want to say something I might regret.”
“If someone loves you—”
“We haven’t gotten that far yet,” I interrupted.
“Then they understand that mistakes are made. And this one isn’t even your fault.”
“It sure looks like it, and I appreciate that she’s being honest about whether or not she can handle it.”
<
br /> Tibby sighed in a loud, exaggerated fashion. “X, you make my point. If she knows she can’t handle the shit that is part of your life, why do you want her?”
“Tib, you married Seth in what seemed like an awfully hasty amount of time.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” She sounded annoyed.
“I didn’t say anything, even when I hadn’t met him, and I was worried. I figured after all this time, you’d learned who was good, and who wasn’t, and I trusted you when you said to me that you loved him and were happy, and you knew this was right. I trusted you.” I left that sitting there.
There was a silence, and Tibby sighed again. “You’re right. You had no reason to believe anything. Listen, I’ll help you, but can I come up and see you?”
“When?”
“Today.”
“What the hell?”
“We are coming to see you. I need to talk to you, and then, if…well, then I’ll work with you, and I’ll help you get her back if that is what you want. Okay?”
“You are making no sense, and kind of scaring me. Are you pregnant?”
“Bite your damn tongue. No. Are you going to be around today or not?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Here’s what I want you to do, so you don’t go off half-cocked and cost me more time than I’m already going to take off for you. Text Olivia, tell her you’re sorry, and you’ll give her some space, or whatever, and DO NOT,” she emphasized, “I repeat, DO NOT, one, go out of your apartment. Two, do not so much as look at a reporter of any sort. Three, do not attempt to get in touch with this site. Do you understand?”
“What are you, my mom?”
“No, I’m your long-suffering attorney. Promise me, X.”
“All right,” I said after a moment. “I promise. I’ll wait for you to get here.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Tibby said cheerfully. “You know where she lives, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah.”
“So keep your shit together, and I’ll be there as soon as I can. Seth!” I heard her yell. “Get up! We gotta go! So hey,” she was back talking to me, “Go easy on yourself, okay?”
“All right,” I said again. I sounded like a grumpy twelve-year-old.
“I love you, X.”
“Love you too, Tib.”
“All right,” she said, mocking my tone. “See you soon.”
She hung up.
What the hell was I going to do until they got here?
Olivia
I got off the plane and headed for the taxi area. Silently, avoiding the eyes of others, avoiding my own thoughts as much as possible, I gave the driver my address.
Laying my head against the window, I closed my eyes and tried not to think.
But all I could see was his face.
When he’d come back to me, heart in hand, he’d been earnest. I knew he was telling me the truth. I kept seeing it, seeing the hurt in his eyes.
So why had I run?
Because I didn’t want to get sucked back in, so that when the next picture came out, or the story, or whatever—I would be hurt all over again.
I didn’t want to be hurt anymore.
Everyone got hurt in relationships. I knew that. But at some point, there has to be a place where you just say ‘Stop.’
As much as I lov—liked Xavier, I couldn’t go any further. I’d given everything to Royce, and I was still trying to heal the open wound he’d put in my back.
These things with Xavier were like someone hitting me in that wound. It seeped, and bled, and couldn’t heal.
This wasn’t on him, and I couldn’t change how I felt.
So…that meant I needed to be the one to stop things before they got too out of hand. Before I was perpetually angry. Before he was upset and resentful.
Seeing those women surrounding him, I felt anger that I hadn’t ever experienced. The anger I felt towards Royce when I found out about his infidelity—that was close.
This hurt more.
I couldn’t live in a world where I was so open, so vulnerable to hurt.
When I got home, I called Momma.
“Hello, sweetheart!” She trilled. “How was your weekend?”
“It was all right,” I said.
Momma knew me well. “What is it?” Her voice changed.
“I ended it, Momma.”
“What?” Her voice went up at least an octave. “Olivia Anne, you’d best explain yourself. Right this moment! Lloyd! She’s gone round the bend!” She yelled.
“Momma, I am not round the bend. I’m unfortunately disturbingly practical. I didn’t know that you liked him all that much anyway,” I added.
“I liked him just fine, missy. He was good for you, and in spite of what I might have been led to believe prior, Xavier is a good man. So what the hell went wrong?”
Led to believe? I nearly laughed. Leave it to Momma to take no blame for her assumptions.
“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Momma. Can I call you later? I just want to go to bed.”
I was ignoring the fact that in the time since I’d left I’d heard nothing from Xavier.
Surely he’d noticed me gone. Gotten my text. Seen why I was gone.
Why hadn’t he called?
Because you left him, again, my snide inner voice told me. Who wants to run after someone who always leaves?
I had to leave, I thought. I can’t let myself go crazy.
Maybe you could just trust him, the inner voice responded.
“Oh, shut up,” I muttered.
“Did you just tell me to shut up?” Momma sounded beyond indignant.
“No, Momma,” I said, feeling the tears coming again. “I’m tired, and my head is all over the place. I’ll talk to you later.” I ended the call because I just couldn’t take it.
Not right now.
The only thing I could take was a shower.
Leaving my bag on the floor, I stripped, letting my clothes fall where I dropped them. I turned the heat up as high as I could stand it, and stood in the shower, my tears mingling with the hot water.
When it got to the point I thought I might fall over, I got out, brushed my hair, pulled on a nightgown, and crawled into bed.
It was over.
Xavier
I paced. Tibby had texted when she and Seth landed. They’d be here shortly.
I was glad because being here with only my thoughts was enough to drive me crazy. I wanted to call Olivia, to text her. To let her know, we could get through this. To tell her not to give up on us.
To tell her I loved her.
That I’d never loved anyone like I loved her.
But as I listed, in my head, all the reasons I wanted her with me, I struggled with why she might want me with her. I was fan-fucking-tastic, but was that enough?
It was clear, to Olivia, and to me, too, that it wasn’t.
The relief nearly knocked me over when I heard the buzz of the door down below.
“Yes?”
“Let me in. I’m tired,” Tibby said.
I hit the buzzer, and within minutes, she was walking in my door.
“X, you look like shit,” she said.
“I feel worse, so thanks.”
“Hey, man,” Seth held out his hand. “I’m sorry about all this.”
“You didn’t do anything,” I said, surprised.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t feel for you.” He smiled.
Once again, I found that I really liked the guy. Tibby had chosen well.
So had I. So why was she running, damn it?
“What do you have to drink?” Tibby dropped a bag and went to the kitchen.
“Whatever you want,” I answered. Not even booze sounded good.
“Well, get something.”
“Why?” I turned to look at her. Her tone sounded different.
“Because I have something—well, we—” she looked at Seth, and he nodded encouragingly, “Have something we want to share with
you.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. I poured a glass of whiskey.
Tibby poured two, and then she went to the couch, handing one to Seth. “Sit,” she said. “This may take a while.”
“You’re making me nervous,” I said.
“X, what do you remember about our lives after college?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Whatever I’d been expecting, this was not it.
“Humor me, jerk. What do you remember?”
“You went to college, and then law school. You and Bryant opened a practice and then like ten minutes ago, you met Seth. Three minutes ago, you got married. You do my legal stuff. I don’t know why you won’t help me with all my website shit. I don’t know why I keep asking,” I shook my head, listening to myself.
Tibby wasn’t looking at me, but at the couch where she sat. She ran her hand along it, and then looked at her hand closely. “Glitter,” she said, showing her hand to Seth.
“What. The. Fuck?” This made no sense. And I was supposed to be the one who drank and ran around.
Even weirder than Tibby’s actions, Seth raised his eyebrows at her and nodded. “It’s him,” he said.
“Tib, you need to tell me what drugs you’re on,” I interrupted.
“Let me tell you why you keep asking me to do web stuff. In another life, I handled all your online shit. I did web development and management. I went to college, but I dropped out of law school because I was fooling around with a partner where I interned, and his wife went apeshit on me. Bryant and I lost touch with each other, and I partied and drank too much, and lived like a hermit because I kept fucking up all my friendships, except yours.”
“I’m calling the doc,” I said, getting up.
“Where’d the glitter come from?” Seth asked.
“What do you mean?” I stopped.
“Why is there glitter all over your couch? Do you remember how it got there?”
“I thought it was just one of the cleaners with body glitter or something,” I shrugged. “I planned to bitch about it, but forgot.”
“You don’t remember a guy? A guy who floated around, shedding glitter like a dog sheds hair?” Seth continued.
“No! I have no—” I stopped, sitting down. “No, I—” Something about what he said triggered a memory, the barest sliver of—something. “I can’t remember!” I said angrily.
Forgotten Wishes: Djinn Everlasting Book Two Page 21