Separate Like Stars

by Diana Kane

  “Sorry that we had sex?”

  “No. Sorry that I was an asshole to you after we had sex,” I confess.

  “I wasn’t exactly kind either.”

  “Maybe not, but you might not have been wrong. I don’t remember what you said to me that night when I tried to kiss you. But I should have realized that you had feelings for me again.”

  “Still.”

  “Pardon?” I’m confident I heard her correctly, but I need to be sure.

  “Nothing,” she quickly answers. “So all of this,” she indicates by waving her hand in the direction of my keepsakes from her. “You really did ask your mom to burn it, didn’t you?”

  “I did,” I admit with a nod, “but I’m glad she didn’t.” I smile at her before making my way to the spot I’ve been occupying most of the evening and claiming my seat again. Olivia silently follows, sitting a few feet away, mindful to give the cats a bit of attention before focusing on the items spread out before us.

  “God that was an awesome show,” she muses as she picks up the Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt. I smile as she sets the shirt back on the floor and tips the box forward, peering over the edge to see what remains inside. “Oh my god! Remember when Dee gave this to you?” she asks as she removes the VHS tape of Bound.

  “Who could forget? I mean I don’t think the thought of having sex with me ever made a woman that violently ill, before or since,” I joke, somehow managing to restrain my laughter.

  “I…that was—,” she begins before my laughter cuts her off. “I see how it is,” she states before laughing along with me.

  “Remember this?” I ask as I pass her the stuffed snow leopard?

  “Of course. We spent the day there for your birthday our first year in Chicago. We were both poor students, but we still indulged on buying each other our favorite animal. I still have my lemur,” she shares as she passes the toy back to me. “I remember taking both of those photos and starting that scrapbook with you too.” We both remain quiet as she reaches over and grabs a few of the steel blue scraps. “I don’t remember writing all of those,” she admits with a wave towards the chest, “or what they all say.”

  “That would be difficult. You gave me one nearly every day we were together.”

  “I should have given you more. You deserved more. You should have a room full of them by now.”

  “I doubt there are that many things to love about me,” I attempt to lighten the mood with the self-depreciating statement and a laugh.

  “There are that many and more,” she sincerely states. “I never stopped thinking about you. Thinking of you got me through some of my darkest days. I could keep loving you from afar, and that would have to be enough. I can find a way to live with the knowledge that I screwed up the thing I want most in this life, but I’d like another chance.” I’m not sure what to say as I look over at Olivia, those gorgeous blue eyes pleading with me to say something she longs to hear. Instead, I prop my elbows on my knees and drop my face into my upturned hands, massaging across my forehead and temples. When I look up at Olivia again, she still stares at me, the hope quickly fading from her eyes the longer I remain silent.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “Just the truth.”

  “The truth,” I murmur as I try to figure it out myself. “The aftermath…it wasn’t the same for me. I had to not think about you to survive. Loving you…it was the greatest high I ever knew. But it was also the darkest depths that I struggled to find light in. I don’t know which one it’ll be in the end, and that frightens me more than anything,” I admit as a tear finally escapes. I catch the slight twitch of Olivia’s hand, but in the end, she freezes, unsure how to act.

  “I love you,” Olivia whispers as she reaches over and takes my hand. I close my eyes as I allow myself to feel her words. I know she means it. I saw it in her eyes just now, just like I always did.

  “I know you do,” I confess as I look into her eyes. “It isn’t that I don’t feel the same way, I just don’t know how to let down my guard with you. I don’t know how I’m supposed to trust you not to break my heart again.” We sit, our gazes unflinching as Olivia’s thumb strokes over the back of my hand.

  “I know you’ve thought about it,” she says with a slight smile and a glint in her eyes. “How many times do I have to remind you that I know you?”

  “I know you do,” I concede with a sigh. “I know you loved me—.”

  “Love. I love you. Not just in the past,” she reminds me. “Then and now. Probably always,” she whispers, her gaze unflinching.

  “I know you’re telling me your truth…at least about the past and now. I opened the box to make peace with the past. All the notes you ever wrote me…you can’t fake that. I know you weren’t faking it,” I admit with a smile as I gaze at her, my sight blurring slightly with fresh tears. “And I see it when you look at me now. You look at me now the way you did then.”

  “Did you make a pro and con list?” she asks, her voice tinged with humor.

  “No,” I reply with a shake of my head. “I’m not even sure how one would compile a list for something like this.”

  “But you’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”

  “It’s pretty much been all I’ve thought about when I haven’t been worried about mom. Liv, with everything with my mom…I don’t know. I mean, I was devastated when your mom passed. You know she was like a second mom to me,” I ramble, earning a nod of encouragement to continue. “Liv, I’m sorry for how I reacted about everything. I know how I felt after your mom died, but I don’t think I comprehended how much greater the magnitude of those feelings must have been for you until I almost lost mine.”

  “I’ve been worried sick about Dana too,” Olivia whispers as I watch a fresh tear fall from each of her eyes. I realize as I reach over and push the strand of hair out of her face that at some point we’ve both angled ourselves to face each other a little more, our hands still linked. “Jordan, the past is unchangeable. I’d do things differently if I could, but neither of us possesses that power. I know what I want in my future. Tell me what you want to do.”

  “I don’t know, Liv,” I mumble, wishing for the umpteenth time I had an answer.

  “You keep calling me Liv,” she observes as her grin regains a measure of confidence.

  “Should I not?”

  “You’ve only ever called me Liv when we’ve been together. Even when I returned, it was Olivia.”

  “I’m done denying my resuscitated feelings for you,” I gently remind her. “I’m just not sure what to do with them,” I murmur as I drop my gaze to our linked hands.

  “Jordan,” Olivia voices my name but says no more. Instead, the fingers of her free hand find my chin and coax me to look up at her. Her fingers remain under my chin as our eyes reconnect and her thumb softly brushes over my lower lip. I feel the slow caress move throughout my body, the texturized whorls of her thumb inching back and forth, stirring a deep physical desire with just that simple touch. “Would you go on a date with me?” she asks as she continues to stare into my eyes.

  “Huh?” I ask as I fight to put a lid on the lust coursing through me.

  “I’d like you to go on a date with me,” she reiterates. “Jordan, I don’t know if this thing between us is an all or nothing situation. Maybe there isn’t an in-between when it comes to us, but I want to know for sure. I want a chance at a future with you. If I have to risk losing you entirely to discover if it’s a possibility, then it’s a risk I’m willing to take. I don’t see it as a risk though, because I think you’re it for me,” she quickly pushes out before taking a deep breath and waiting for a response. “Help me out here,” she eventually pleads when I’ve remained silent for at least a full minute, willing my erratic heartbeat to calm and the panic to dissipate.

  “Sorry,” I finally manage. Olivia’s face falls, and I quickly realize my error. “No. I meant sorry for my silence,” I quickly react, firming up my grip on the hand she was t
rying to extract from mine. “A date?”

  “Yeah. I’m assuming you’ve been on a date before,” she jokes with a shaky smile. “Maybe it’s a way for us to start fresh. We couldn’t go on a public date when we lived here before. Then we were in Chicago and we were both too busy, tired, and poor. I mean we didn’t have to hide anymore, and we made time for each other, but when were we ever able to go on a proper date?” I think about what she just said and realize that she’s right. The hiding, time constraints, and then Olivia’s departure all combined to limit the number of actual dates between us.

  “What does this date look like?”

  “I haven’t had time to plan it,” she admits with a laugh.

  “You know, doing something in public with me, dating me, means that your picture will eventually be taken without your consent, you’ll likely be tied to my breakup with Addison again, and that whatever date we embark on is likely to be interrupted by someone seeking an autograph or photo, right?”

  “I don’t care about having my photo taken or being accused of being the catalyst behind your breakup. I saw what happened at the mall before Christmas and followed Véronique around for quite a while. When it happens, we’ll deal with it together. Honestly, I don’t mind if we do something extravagant or if we just sit on the porch, drink lemonade and wait for the occasional car to drive by. I want to prove that it’s you and me. That it’s always been you and me.” I can hear the conviction in her voice. She truly believes that we are meant to be.

  “I hope you’re capable of planning something a bit more glamorous than sitting on the porch and waiting for a car to pass by,” I joke.

  “I’ll come up…,” she begins but trails off as her eyebrows draw inward slightly. “Wait. Are you saying yes?”

  “I think I am,” I share and watch as the broad smile filled with dazzling, perfectly white teeth stretch across Olivia’s lips. “When would this hypothetical date take place?”

  “Anytime you’ll agree to go,” she says, practically bouncing on the floor.

  “I think my schedule is a bit more forgiving than yours. Why don’t you sort out the details and let me know?”

  “Okay,” she says as she releases my hand and gets to her feet.

  “Are you leaving?” I ask, my eyebrows drawing inward.

  “Yeah. I have a date to plan,” she says as she turns towards the door. “You’ll be hearing from me soon,” she promises before stepping outside, the door gently closing behind her.

  That was odd, I think as I pick up another square of paper, the text alert on my phone drawing my attention away from it.

  Is Friday night too soon? the message from Olivia asks, drawing laughter from me. I’m not sure she’s even had time to make it off of my property. Provided Dana is still doing well, a second text adds.

  Friday night will be fine, I quickly type back, still laughing at Olivia’s behavior. That was quick, I add as an afterthought.

  It’s never too soon to start the rest of your life, she replies. Dress comfortably. I’ll pick you up at seven.

  Chapter 31

  “Hi,” I greet Olivia through the screen door after the doorbell drew me downstairs.

  “Hey,” she answers with a smile as her eyes hungrily scan me. “You look nice,” she compliments me when she realizes she didn’t ogle me as stealthily as she thought she did.

  “Nice recovery,” I joke as I unhook the lock and open the door for her. “Am I underdressed? I can change if I am,” I offer as she enters, extending a bouquet of flowers to me. “Thank you,” I say before holding them under my nose and drawing in a deep breath.

  “You’re welcome. And no need to change, you look great.”

  “I’m wearing a v-neck and shorts, Liv,” I inform her sarcastically; like she isn’t capable of sussing that out herself.

  “Your outfit is perfect,” she shares with a genuine smile.

  “Only following your instructions. You haven’t said what we are doing,” I remind her, tilting my head in the direction of the kitchen, hoping that she'll catch on to the silent indication that she should follow me.

  “I thought we could go to the spring carnival,” she shares as I pull a vase from the cupboard. I look over my shoulder at her to find her with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her jeans while she aggressively gnaws on her lower lip. She’s so adorable when she’s nervous, I think as relief washes over me that I’m not the only one feeling a little anxious about our date. “I know you get motion sick, so some of the rides are out, but I thought we could play some games, people watch, and eat some junk food. You still love a good elephant ear, right?” I almost laugh at the speed with which she just spoke, but contain myself knowing it would likely increase her anxiety.

  “It sounds like a good time, and yes, I still like elephant ears,” I answer, causing the apprehension on her face to dissipate, her features relaxing as she finally smiles. “Would it be okay if I changed into a pair of jeans, in case it cools off?” I ask as I shut off the tap and slide the flowers into their new home.

  “Sure,” she practically whispers. I look over my shoulder at her again just in time to catch her eyes as they dart upward from my ass. This time I do chuckle as her grin morphs into what I always thought of as her ‘you caught me’ look.

  “I’ll be back down in a minute,” I inform her as I place the vase in the center of the dining room table. “Help yourself to anything you may want to eat or drink,” I offer as I give her a smile and head for the stairs. I quickly ascend the steps and plop myself down on the foot of the bed, allowing myself to fall back and look at the ceiling. It doesn’t feel like this date is off to a great start. Our conversation feels strained as we both battle our nervousness. It’s just Olivia. Olivia, who you dated for years. The woman who might know you better than anyone else. There’s no need to be nervous, I tell myself. She broke your heart, the fear I’ve tried to silence argues. I can’t let fear stop me from figuring out what’s happening between us, I remind myself for the millionth time since Olivia asked me to go on a date with her.

  “Are you planning on standing me up?” Olivia calls up the stairs.

  Crap, I think as I scramble off of the bed and unbutton my shorts while heading towards the closet. “Be just another minute,” I call back as my shorts fall to the floor and I grab the first pair of dark blue denim my hand lands on. I nearly trip as I attempt to hop into the second leg while making my way towards the dresser for a pair of socks. “Shit,” I bark out when my hip bangs against the corner of the dresser.

  “Everything all right up there?”

  “I’m fine,” I call back as grab a pair of ankle socks and zip up my jeans. I gingerly rub my hip on my way down the stairs, knowing I’ll have a nasty bruise by the time I get home. “Sorry,” I bashfully inform Olivia as I sit on the edge of the chair and pull on my socks.

  “No worries,” she answers as she smiles at me. I get back on my feet, intending to grab a pair of shoes from the closet, but Olivia stops me, her hands on my shoulders as she gazes down at me. “This isn’t going to work,” she finally utters. For a second I think she means my jeans, and I glance down wondering if there is something wrong with them. “Not your jeans,” she informs me with a laugh. “Those fit very well. I mean this,” she indicates the space between us by waving her finger in a circle.

  “Oh,” I answer, surprised by how disappointed I suddenly feel. “I uh—.”

  “See, this is what I’m talking about. I’m nervous. You’re nervous. We need to relax, or this is going to be a miserable date.”

  “Relax?” I ask, working to catch up. “You still want to go to the carnival?”

  “You don’t want to go anymore?”

  “I do…it’s just…oh,” I finally utter when my brain catches up. “Have we ever been this far from being on the same page?” I ask with a chuckle as I finally relax a bit.

  “Nope. Damn nerves,” Olivia observes with a sneer, causing me to laugh even more. “You’ve lost your mind
if you think I don’t want to go on this date,” she informs me, her voice low and her eyes fixed on my lips. “It’s taking every ounce of control I have not to move too quickly,” she adds, the tip of her tongue swiping over her upper lip as a surge of lust roils through me.

  “We could stay here,” I breathe, knowing she’ll understand my intention. I know she has when her pupils flare and her eyelids fall every so slightly.