“You put my name on your hand?”
Each step is painful as I back away from her, taking off my white dress shirt. She watches me slip each button out of its hole until I pull it off and drop it to the floor.
I lift my arm to show her the inside of my bicep. “A marigold.”
Her mouth pops open, recognizing her birth flower, and she doesn’t fix it.
“You’ve seen these.” I pull at the collar of my undershirt toreveal the olive branches.
When I pull at my t-shirt to remove it, her eyes pop open wide.
“Stop!” She rasps, desperately. “I don’t want to see any more.”
“All I’ve done is think about you, Olive. There’s never been anyone else for me.”
“I can’t do this, Jensen. This is too much. I just broke things off with Elliot a few weeks ago.”
“But you were never truly his, were you?”
She jerks her head to the side as if my words slapped her. “I need some space. The Porter trial starts tomorrow, and I need to focus.”
I shake my head in frustration. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
Her palms meet her temples, and she squeezes her head between her hands. “I can’t be near you all the time. I need time to think, and I suffocate around you.”
“Olive…”
“Please.” Her voice cracks, and I know I can’t be the cause of her suffering.
I’ll do whatever she asks.
“Right… Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Only to and from work. I need you to leave after you drop me off.”
“Liv…”
“You cut me off without any explanation, and I had to live with it for years. At least I’m taking it easy on you,” she whispers.
“I guess I deserve that.”
“I’ll call if I need you,” she states softly, but coldly, bottling herself up again.
I know it’s my fault, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. I’m slowly dying, being tortured by decisions of the past, and all I can do is take the pain and bear it.
Hoping that it makes her pain even a millimeter less.
* * *
She gathers the paperwork she needs, double-checking each page as she files it away in her briefcase, ignoring me as if I’m not even in the room.
It’s a painful reminder that she holds our fate in her hands. With each breath, I’m waiting for her to tell me to go and not to come back.
I don’t know how I’ll survive if she chooses life without me. I was barely living already before she came back to me.
Miley brings her a hot tea, and without a word, we’re making our way to the courtroom. The way she catwalks in her heels is terrifying, because a woman that confident will eat your heart out, and every person in this building knows it.
Me, especially.
