“I am trying to find the words,” I mumble, willing the shaking to stop and my heart to slow down.
“I know it has been a while but you can tell me anything,” she says taking my hands in hers.
“Yeah, thanks,” I barely get it out, trying to find the best way to tell her that I’ve been rebuilding my entire life for the last six months. That I watched my best friend die, in front of me while saving me and the rest of our unit. How do I ease into that?
“Just tell me Noah, it’s not like you are married or something, is it?” she responds, with an obvious hint of frustration. “You’re not married are you?” she asks urgently.
“What? No! Ollie, of course I’m not married.” I pull my hands out of her grip and create some space between us. Space that I hope will get air into my collapsing airway, and light from the bright windows pushes the darkness associated with the memory away.
She doesn’t say anything, she simply just stares at me, eyes narrowing with a mix of frustration and confusion, emotions pulsing through her like a current. I take a deep breath and hang my head low, still fighting for my bearings, knowing that Dr. Doyle would be happy to know that I finally was able to tell someone outside of my immediate family.
“Ollie, my best friend was killed. We were ambushed and a lot of people were lost that day,” I struggle to blurt out.
“Oh, Noah…” Ollie starts as she takes a step closer to me, bringing her hands onto my forearms.
“After that day, I went into a very dark place. There was a lot of alcohol and I was a shell of a human until I started to see Dr. Doyle. It took four months to dig out of that hole. That’s why I need this house. I need this as a coping mechanism when things are hard,” I say, knowing that if I don’t say it right away, I won’t. And this is also part of Dr. Doyle’s recovery plan, getting to a point where I can talk about Jarred.
Jarred, the 6 foot 4 giant teddy bear of a man that I got to call my best friend. He was the friend who was always laughing, joking, trying to make everyone around him have a good time, even when he wasn’t. His hazel eyes and cooked smile never quite fit the intensity of his physique. He was built like a tight end with tattoos coating his left arm and entire back. But what really stood out about Jarred was his personality, his kind heart, taking a chance on everyone around him even though no one took a chance on him.
“Hey, what are you thinking about right now? Where did you go there?” I hear Ollie’s voice and feel the touch of her hands on my forearms, bringing me out of the memories of my best friend.
“Sorry, I was thinking about Jarred, even just thinking about him here makes my heart hurt. I feel an indescribable pain in my chest, where I feel like all of my insides are falling out of me, and there isn’t a bandage, or tourniquet that could keep them in. It wasn’t until Jarred, that I realized you can have soul friends. The friends who are your soulmates, except just friends. The friends that you don’t have to talk to all day everyday, but they get you and just being with them is enough. They can read you like a book even when you don’t want them to and push you to do the hard things. The things you would never choose to do yourself. Jarred is that for me.Was.Was that for me.” I stumble over the last sentence, still struggling to process that he is gone.
“I'm sorry, Noah. I know that doesn’t change anything, but I'm sorry,” she says, pulling me into an embrace. Ollie is small, but mighty, and while my head stands square over her I lower my forehead to the top of hers and soak in this moment. I’m so caught up in the moment that I don’t realize we’ve moved onto the plastic near the tin of paint.
“But you got this house and have incredible plans for it, and painting while sad is not nearly as fun or effective,” Ollie says with a smirk on her face as she pulls away from our hug and in one swift motion dips her hand in the tin of paint and wipes it across the side of my face and cheek.
Shocked by a smile, and the newly white paint smeared across the side of my face, I can’t decide whether or not to be annoyed or laugh.
“I hope you don’t like what you’re wearing.” I grin and laugh as I look at her black leggings and white cropped sweatshirt that are now speckled with white paint.
Ollie gasps and laughs all at once before dipping her hand in the paint and placing it squarely on my chest. Instinctively, I place my hand around her waist and pull her into my chest. Olivia squeaks with surprise and takes her opposite hand to wrap around my neck as we spin in a circle.
“There is the laugh that I love so much,” I say, smiling. Her laugh is loud and deep but entirely infectious. She can bring anyone out of a bad mood, even if just for a moment with her laugh.
“There is the person who brings it out me,” she replies as we come to a stop she looks up and leans in so that her lips meet mine, and I know I'm a goner.
Chapter 25
Olivia
Shit,didIjusttell him that he’s the only reason I laugh. How pathetic does that sound? Why would I say something like that?
I try to refocus on the scene around me. This house is old, but beautiful in the weirdest way. The wood floors are original and in immaculate condition, aside from some needing a quick sweep. I swear there used to be carpet throughout the living room and two bedrooms but it must’ve been ripped up. I never understood why people put wall-to-wall carpet in houses that have the perfect wooden floors.
Now we’re standing here in his unpainted master bedroom, covered in white paint, intertwined with each other. This is not what friends do. Friends help each other paint, get food for one another, listen to the stories and the pain. Friends do not,bury their heads into each other, kiss each other deeply, passionately, and full of love.
Noah led me throughout his new house describing all of the changes he’s looking to make over the next few months, and I could feel his excitement and eagerness to complete the project. It brings a smile to my face that I don’t even try to hide because I couldn’t be more proud of him. He’s doing the hard work to create the best life for him after the Army.
As we got toward the back of the house I feel my body start to tense, my body temperature rising and the butterflies start swarming in my abdomen. I was so nervous walking into Noah’s bedroom, afraid of making the same mistake we made a few nights ago. Okay, not that hooking up with Noah was a mistake because it was amazing but I live over two hours away and it doesn’t make sense to get attached again. It would be pointless to fall back in love with this man who broke my heart but just as quickly put it back together.
However, hearing the hurt in his voice about Jarred and what happened made it more clear that this was exactly where I needed to be. Despite everything that’s happened between Noah and me, no one should go through heartache, loss, and grief alone especially the type of loss that Noah experienced.
His best friend was killed in the line of duty, essentially right in front of him.
I can’t even fathom what that must feel like, the sadness, the anger, potential guilt, and all the additional emotions that are tied to that kind of struggle.
But between the two of us, Noah has always been the sunshiney one, the happy-go-lucky, outgoing golden retriever that everyone knows and loves. He’s known for picking everyone up when they are down, literally everyone.
