“The cruel irony is
you aremy forever
but not my right now.”
—Oliver Masters
mia.
SATURDAY MORNING, I WOKE up with Ethan gone, and a note slid under my door. The torn, yellowed book page had been folded and re-folded numerous times, having dozens of creases. Despite my brain, my heart opened it. “We need to talk. Like old times, you know where to find me, -Ollie.” Even his handwriting was familiar across the blank space of the page. I drew in a shaky breath, knowing what I should do, and what I was going to end up doing.
Knowing damn well I was walking through doors of disappointment, the small ounce of hope simmering inside my heart convinced the rest of my doubt to quiet down. Without looking like I tried or put too much thought into it, I showed up in sweat pants, T-shirt, and my hair a mess on top of my head. Dean Lynch had asked for my clothing sizes after the gruesome prank and gifted me the basics. I never needed much.
As soon as the library doors closed behind me, the familiar maze brought back a wave of emotions. I hadn’t been back here in months, only to retrieve the book to learn sign language. Since then, I couldn’t bring myself to walk through that door. The library was suffocating, each step back to our spot, shelves closed in on me. I picked up my pace, keeping my eyes fixed ahead.
Ollie sat on the floor in his corner, and he lifted his head as soon as I entered our nook. We looked like twins in matching gray sweats and white tees. His brown hair poked out from under the infamous beanie he always wore whenever his life was in ruins. He never hid his mood; even his eyes screamed,“I’m a fucking train wreck.”
He tilted his head, and I thought I saw the man I loved in those green eyes, but these days I could never be sure. I needed to know if it was him. My sights set on his face, appreciating the prominent wave of his lips, and the small freckle that usually disappeared in the curve of his smile. He wasn’t smiling now, but his face still managed to blow me away to places we both should have stayed.
He looked away, feeling insecure as I stood there in the heartbeats of silence. His cutting jawline flexed against the words we both wanted to say, but still trying to figure out how. The words of affirmation ran through my head as I moved closer, but he beat me to the punch.
“It didn’t always look like this,” he hardly whispered, but I heard every word.
I paused and crossed my arms, leaning into my hip as I waited for him to continue. Standing firm, but inside, all I wanted was just another second in his touch.
Ollie rose to his feet and dusted off his hands. “I never told you this before, but it took me two weeks to color coordinate these books. The first time I saw you reading in the mess hall, every spare second I had was in here, creating this space for you, trying to impress you.” He chuckled nervously and ran his fingers along the spines of the books. The same fingers that used to run down my spine. “This space was never mine, Mia. I mean, yeah, I found it. I was here first. This used to be my safe haven. But I created this space for you to run away to, to feel safe because that’s what you are to me. You’re my safe place.” He dropped his hand and looked back over at me. The lump in his throat moved as he swallowed. “To find out you never liked to read, I was the bloody fool all along.”
I shifted on my foot, digging my nails into my flesh to ease the temptation to reach out and touch him. “Why am I here, Ollie?”
“You tell me.”
“I can’t help it.”
“I can’t either,” he said, taking steps toward me. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. When I was gone and without you, I caved to the pills because the distance killed me. You have no idea what a mess I was off it. How I left things … I went mad in jail. Giving in was easier because I knew I couldn’t be with you. Now that I’m back, every part of me is fighting against it. I’m so back and forth. I’m going crazy.” He stood over me, us barely touching. I had to lift my chin to meet his gaze. “Does that make any sense?”
“You pushed me, Ollie … Right into Officer Scott.”
“I know”—his hands tugged nervously on his shirt— “I was angry you denied me. I thought you gave up on us, and I took it out on you.”
“You kissed Maddie, right in front of me,” I choked out, averting my eyes so he didn’t catch the pain lingering inside them. The image was on constant replay.
“God, I’m sorry,” his hand touched my cheek, bringing my eyes back to him, “I can’t believe I did that. Even while I was kissing her, my stomach was sick about it. But it wasn’t me, Mia, you have to know that. I’m not myself.”
His single, warming touch still managed to disentangle my tension. My shoulders dropped as I watched his gum peek from his parted lips. We stood so close, and I closed my eyes to breathe in his minted breath. When I opened them again, emerald, adoring eyes greeted me. “What do you want from me, Ollie?”
With his hands steadying himself over my shoulders, he briefly looked to the ceiling as if the words were written across the tiles. He always knew the right things to say, and when to say nothing at all. Yes, he silenced the world with his voice, but he was able to stop time with his silence, and every part of me hung on like a last breath.
When his head dropped back down to face me, tears pooled in the corners of his eyes, and that’s when I knew for sure it was Ollie standing before me. “I want you to love me anyway,” a single, lost tear trickled down his cheek, “Give me a year to get better, and I’ll give you a lifetime.”
My brows snapped together as my head dipped back out of his grasp. He couldn’t be serious. “A year? You want me to put up with that for a year?”
“Mia, I’m going crazy. I can’t lose you through this, but I can’t control myself either. It’s going to get worse, but I promise just one year. Give me a year. After Dolor, I’ll get off the pills, and we never have to look back,” Ollie’s words scrambled everywhere nothing like the slow and controlled tone I just had, already losing him. The struggle was evident in his eyes as they scanned my face, reading my reaction.
The only way I could get through the next year was not to watch him self-destruct. Knowing what we needed to do, a new level of ache flowed through my veins before attacking all vital organs. It already hurt merely thinking about it, and I knew the next words I was about to say would only double this pain inside me. But they were words that needed to be said to protect what we had. “I’ll give you a year, but in the meantime, we can’t talk—
“No,” Ollie immediately stated, shaking his head.
“You keep your distance and stay away from me.”
