“It’s not funny.”
“Okay, I won’t be mean to you tonight.”
“You didn’t answer the question.” I was suddenly eager to know if she was seeing other guys. Of course I would be.
“What question?”
“Are you seeing anybody else?”
She gave me a deep, penetrative stare and brought her dainty hands together. “No. I’m not.”
For a few moments that could have been forever, we stared at each other. We stared until I noticed the slight flush of her cheeks and I reached out to cup her face.
“Will it scare you if I tell you you’re the first woman to spend the night here in a very long time?”
She held my gaze. “No, because it might make me crazy if you told me I was Saturday’s girl, woman—whatever.” She looked like she was going to continue on her tirade but then she stopped and seemed to be thinking hard about something.
“What, have you changed your mind?” I chuckled.
“No, I just got it.” She searched my eyes.
“What? Got what?” I got the feeling her insightful side was kicking in.
“How long’s a long time?” She looked me over, her blue eyes shining like cobalt as they filled with a wealth of concern. “How long has it been since you had someone here?”
Thinking it in my head was just manageable; saying it was something else. I brought my hand up to my chin and tried to regain my composure.
“Not since Olivia.” It was the first time I’d ever spoken her name to Brooke.
“That’s her name,” she said, more to herself than to me. “You never talk about her unless you have to or really want to, huh?”
“Yeah.” I sighed, not knowing what to say. It felt like I’d just put a damper on the rest of the evening.
“It must have been hard. I can see it was hard.”
“It was. It might have been a long time ago to most people, but it was hard.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
At least I could smile. It wasn’t a smile because what she said was funny; it was more of a smile to shrug off how I truly felt—not fake, but not genuine either.
“I appreciate that you asked, but it’s just something I can’t talk about, not to anyone. Yet.” I didn’t think I could ever have the strength it took to tell anyone what I felt like on the day Olivia died and that I held her until the light left her eyes and the life I loved so much left her body.
Then she was no more.
I couldn’t explain that part to anyone. She fought a long hard battle and I was right by her side. But, it felt like it was for nothing. Felt like my heart stopped beating that day.
“I understand. I do.” Her eyes searched mine again.
“After she died, I found it difficult to accept that it had happened and I kind of shut down. It was better not to talk about what happened.” Those were probably the most words I’d said to anyone who wasn’t Aaron. I couldn’t even talk like this to my parents. It was harder to talk to them for some reason. Maybe because I knew they grieved with me and for me. Aaron was similar, but different. I guess it was the way he spoke about her, as if she went somewhere far away. Like she didn’t die. I was surprised that the other person my mind choose to speak to was Brooke. “Moving on was easier that way. Not talking about it like it never happened. This room used to be filled with family photos.”
Now it didn’t have anything. Except for a few keepsakes on the mantelpiece, there was nothing on the walls or over the fireplace like there used to be.
The living room had pictures of Aria, and I’d made a separate album for the pictures of Olivia.
“Ryan, if it’s hard for me to be here, I can go. I understand. Or we can go to my place.”
I reached for her. “I like your place, it’s nice, but I want you in my bed. That’s the only place I haven’t had you, and the place I see you most in my fantasies.”
