“They had been high school sweethearts, and apparently each other’s first loves.” She went on, subsiding into the chair. “But they had split up when they went to different colleges and then eventually she got married. Then, while I was lost in my depression, they found each other again. She had divorced recently, and they rekindled their flame. He said our marriage wasn’t working and had not been for a long time, and he wanted a divorce.”
She said it so matter of fact. But her shoulders slumped, and her voice was little more than a thread. He knew it must have been a terrible blow. Dale tried to appear calm, but inside he seethed on her behalf. What kind of insensitive bastard goes and gets himself a mistress while his wife is grieving? The worst kind of excuse for a man, that’s who.
“I was so stunned,” she went on. “I couldn’t believe my marriage was ending. And the worst part was there was nothing I could do about it. I even would have forgiven him, I think. After all, I thought I was at fault too, for neglecting him and our marriage, but he didn’t want forgiveness. He just wanted to get rid of me to be with his girlfriend.”
“That is utter nonsense!” Dale refuted, his hands fisting at his sides. She blamed herself for her husband's selfishness. Unacceptable. “You were going through a difficult time, which is understandable after all you had been through. He should have been by your side, supporting you. Not gallivanting with another woman. The selfish prick.”
“I totally agree with you. Now. At that moment, I didn’t see it that way. I blamed myself for not seeing it, for not preventing it. I kept thinking if I had handled things differently, my marriage would not have shattered the way it did.” She held out a hand for him and he took it.
“You see, my whole life was crumbling around me. Until then, I had never faced a difficult situation. Then in the space of a couple of years, I lost my sister, I failed to get pregnant, and I also lost my marriage, my home, my work. And I thought it was all my own damn fault. I mean, only a total loser would lose so much.”
Gazing earnestly into her eyes, Dale crouched in front of her, captured both Livvy’s hands, and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Sometimes life deals us a bad hand, and no matter how you play it, you cannot win. It was not your failure, Livvy. You just went through a bad streak.”
Her shoulders, which had arched high toward her ears, relaxed, and the hands he held in his own squeezed back, a warmth tingling back into them. She managed a smile and a nod, and she no longer looked so defeated. Good. He'd given her some small measure of comfort. He wanted nothing more than that.
“By the time we finalized the divorce, I felt much better, stronger. My ex kept our house and the company, but since I was a partner and co-owner, he had to buy me out. I took the money from the settlement and invested part of it in starting my own architectural firm. I also got my own place to live. A house that I planned to renovate and eventually sell for a profit. Close to my parents, so I could be nearby for them and Lana, but independent. I was thirty, and it was the first time in my life I was living and doing things on my own. It has been... interesting.”
“Did you consider marrying again?” He asked, letting go of her hands and walking towards the fireplace. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know about other men with whom she might have been romantically involved, but the question burst out of him. “You said there’s no stigma attached to divorce in your time, so that means you were now free, still young, and beautiful. Surely you had men interested in you.”
“Yes, of course I wanted to find love again, and marry and have kids. But it’s not that easy. From time to time, a man would ask me to go on an outing. It is the accepted form of courting in my time. You go out, usually to dinner or some other place, spend time together, talk, see if you suit. They were... adequate. But I felt no sparks with any of them. So I focused on my business and my home renovation for the time being.”
He put all these fresh revelations into his picture of Olivia. He had already realized she was extraordinary. Now, her story filled in the blanks as an artist’s brush fills in color and detail into a basic outline. All the qualities he had already sensed in her came to vibrant life. As pretty as she was kind. So capable, yet hesitant. Independent, but fearful. Strong and fragile. So many contrasts. He had met no one who had so many interesting angles. He could spend his whole life discovering her... but he probably wouldn’t have the chance.
She didn’t belong here.
One thing that was glaringly obvious in her story was how important family was to her. How close she was to her parents and her niece. She had already lost so much. It was so cruel for her to be yanked from her world and from her family now that she had rebuilt her life.
He could never replace all her loved ones. All he could do was to protect and care for her until the moment she was taken back to her world. He didn’t know how or when that would be, but he knew it would happen. At least he hoped it would. For her sake. As much as he would like to keep her with him forever, he didn’t want it at the cost of her happiness.
She had already told him her story. Now it was his turn. He could do no less. She deserved the whole truth. She had taken a risk revealing herself to him, trusting he would listen with an open mind and not judge her. His story wasn’t as pretty, or maybe he should say it didn’t paint a pretty picture of him, but he hoped she could understand as well.
She had stopped talking and now sat with her elbow on the armrest; her head propped in her hand. She stared pensively into the unlit fireplace. She looked so exquisite he wished he could capture her at this moment. Alas, he was not a painter. Then he saw her little device, the ‘phone’, laying atop the table. She used it to capture images and had shown him how it worked. He took it and snapped a picture of her.
The sound made by the phone alerted her, and she looked up, a little surprised. “Did you just take a picture of me?”
“Yes. I’m sorry if that was too forward, but you looked so lovely just now. I wanted to keep that image forever.”
“No, I don’t mind at all. That’s actually one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me. Let me see the picture.”
She analyzed her picture. What did she see in it? With her new clothes and coiffure, she looked different from when she arrived.
“I barely recognize myself. I look like a painting.” She looked up at him speculatively. “By the way... do you have any paintings of your wife?”
He recognized the overture.
“Yes. There are three throughout the house. My favorite is in the picture gallery. Have you been there?”
She nodded. “I have, but don’t remember any picture in particular. I guess I paid little attention. Will you show it to me?”
“I guess it’s my turn to open up about the past. Come.” He offered her his arm. “Let’s take a walk in the gallery.”
The last thing he wanted was to reveal his sins and risk losing the warmth he saw in her eyes when she looked at him. But he knew he must. He would do anything for her. Even act against his own best interests.
