I wanted her to fall on me.
With every struggling piece of her, I was ready.
I wanted mytoo muchheart and soul to be the filter for her.
Then Mia’s fists clutched the railing, knuckles white, and a scream pierced through the evening air. A battle cry, echoing in the valley, the entire world her audience, the mountain her stage. It penetrated my soul, passing through every part of me. Her scream entered my bloodstream, crawled through my veins, and brought tears to my eyes. My chest ripped open as I held on to her, believing she had the power to move planets and stop time. It was that powerful. Mia screamed because it hurt, and for once, she wanted everyone to feel the same pain she felt—and I fucking felt it. She screamed because she thought she was broken, but her broken would never make me run. She screamed until the scream turned into a cry, and she collapsed into my arms, and I rocked her against the wind.
“You can lose your mind, Mia, but you’re never losing me.”
Oliver Masters was in America,his rented hatchback parked in my dad’s driveway.
Neither one of us had spoken a word on the way here after I’d screamed, which made me feel lighter. In less than sixty seconds, the rage, pain, and hurt hoarded over two weeks had escaped through my throat, and it never felt so good. Ollie always knew what I needed.
Ollie had pulled behind my dad’s parked car, and we sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Before we’d left Dolor, we made plans to run off and get married, our futures open and free, and for the taking, together.
But two weeks could change a lot.
Ethan made me question Ollie’s devotion to me. His love for me. Ethan made me believe I was weak and needed him to survive, but that was before he discarded me—a useless card in a losing game of poker. A joker. My brain was a jumbled mess, and I wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. I couldn’t even trust my own thoughts. One second, I wanted to throw myself onto Ollie and beg him to erase the last two weeks and take me back to Guildford, where we danced inside his dorm room and laughed under the thin sheet all night long, talking about everything we’d do and the places we’d go. The next, I wanted to run inside my dad’s house and devise a plan to live out the rest of my life alone, possibly singing in the streets for money, so no one could ever have the chance to betray me again.
Ollie sat in the driver seat wearing the black hoodie and grey joggers I’d seen him in so many times before. Exhaustion consumed his features, he looked even skinnier, and his hair was cut differently, shorter on the sides, but still long on top. Yet, his green eyes were still the same, only now a hint of relief shown through all the ways they’d always spoken to me.
“I’m getting a hotel close by,” he finally said. “I’d really like it if you stayed with me.” Words stuck in my windpipe, and I needed longer than a breath to think this through. “I understand if you don’t,” he continued. “I know you need time, but I’ll be here in the morning, and I’ll show up every morning on that doorstep until you realize I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay,” was all I could gather. Ollie pinched the bridge of his nose, and my heart collapsed into the pit of my stomach. He was trying to be strong, and it tore him up inside. Instead of finding his fiancé, he’d found a girl with a broken spirit. And I didn’t want him to bring me back this time. I needed to find the strength to bring myself back for once, to know I could.
“I’m in love with you, Mia,” his feelings compromised his voice, “I’ll always be in love with you. Forever, madly in that place you never have to question, no matter what happens. Wedding or no wedding, it’s you and I evermore. Do you understand me?” Nodding, my bottom lip trembled and my eyes burned as I watched my broken spirit only strengthen his. His faith shook, but he still believed in the two of us—enough for the both of us. He forced a small smile and released a breath. “Good, now go get some sleep. I’ll see you bright and early.”
I didn’t say it back. I didn’t kiss Ollie goodbye.
I was too afraid. If our lips met, I’d be on my way back to the hotel with him. And if I’d gone back, I’d never find out the truth. Was I the dependent girl whose happiness and strength relied on someone else, or could I find the strength within?
After Ethan drove off, I’d officially hit the bottom of what was supposed to be a bottomless pit. The joke was on me when I’d crashed into the hard surface. Three things I’d learned about myself. First, I was definitely not a sociopath—never was. Two, I would forever be in love with Oliver Masters. And three, I didn’t know who I was without him.
Number three was the punch to the gut, and the main reason I needed this time. With or without me, Ollie had a future, a life, dreams, a career … Everything I didn’t have and never knew I wanted until now. A part of me was jealous, another part incredibly proud. I couldn’t be angry with Ollie for going after it, but it only reminded me of how less of a person I was. At least with Ethan, on the run, it could have distracted me with a false sense of purpose. At least with Ethan, I wouldn’t have been the only one hiding, pretending, and lying to myself.
Ollie waited in the driveway as I climbed the porch steps and pushed through the door of my dad’s house, where Dad sat over the beige microfiber couch in front of the TV, watching the Steelers play, his hand clasped around a glass set on the side table. His head scooped to the side to see I’d come through the door.
Diane poked her blonde head through the kitchen opening with a rag in her hands. “We already ate. I’m not used to making dinner for three, so you’ll have to figure it out,” she threw the rag over her shoulder, “You’re an adult now, Mia. Time to take care of yourself.” Her head disappeared, and I hadn’t expected anything different from her.
“It’s okay.” I stepped toward the living room, passing her on the way. “I wasn’t hungry anyway.”
“Starving yourself or too lazy?” I heard behind me from the kitchen.
I paused mid-step, my fists clenched at my sides. “Just tired,” I forced out. It was already close to six-thirty at night, which would’ve made it almost eleven-thirty in the United Kingdom, but as tired as I was, a conversation between my dad and I needed to happen. We hadn’t spoken since I’d returned, avoiding both of them until I could figure out what to say.
Our sectional was L-shaped, and I dropped into the plush fabric on the opposite side of my dad. He looked over at me, and I felt exposed. I shoved my hand beneath my thighs to refrain from fidgeting. “I’m sorry.”
My dad grabbed the remote from the arm of the chair and turned the volume down on the TV. I wished he hadn’t. I didn’t want Diane overhearing our conversation or jumping into it. His bushy brow shot into the air, and he crossed his ankle over his opposite knee. “What are you sorry for?”
I didn’t exactly know what to be sorry for, only that we had to make amends if I was staying under his roof. He was already dealing with the strain it put on their marriage, and I hadn’t noticed it until now—until my heart thawed out since Dolor got ahold of me. Or Ollie. Or both. “That all this happened. That it got to this point.”
“I appreciate that, Mia.”
Diane laughed from inside the kitchen and my stomach knotted at the sound.
“Bruce, don’t fall for it. Mia manipulates, it’s what she does. The only reason she’s apologizing is because she has no place else to go. Twenty-years-old and nothing to show for it.” Her laughter continued, bouncing off the lifeless white walls inside the house. Perhaps I deserved it. For over ten years, I’d put them both through hell for my amusement.
Before, I’d say something smart in return. Probably comment on how Diane never worked a day in her life and lived off my mother’s life insurance to pay for her manicured nails and yoga classes, which was what the two of them most likely expected from me. The anticipation in my dad’s eyes zeroed in on me, and a huffing and puffing song drifted into the living room from the kitchen as dishes clanked inside the sink.
