He pulls his sleeve up, showing me the tattoo on the inside of his forearm. The claw marks. “Give me your hand.” I don’t respond. “Olive,” he insists, holding his out to take mine.
I put my palm gingerly in his, ignoring the way it feels as he tugs me closer, letting my fingertips run along the length of the tattoo. “Feel that?”
“A scar?” He nods, and the gravity of it hits me. “You attempted suicide?” The words barely escape above a whisper.
“Succeeded actually. They said my heart stopped beating for almost four minutes.”
Four minutes…He really died.
“You bastard.” The anger explodes out of me, and I jet from my seat, bashing my fists against his chest. “How could you?” I demand, pushing so hard that his chair tips back and he barely saves himself from falling with it.
He steadies his feet and grips my fists in his hands at the same time, pulling me into his chest.
“How dare you?” I cry, still trying to beat him. “I didn’t know if you were alive or dead for months! I called every week, trying to convince someone, anyone, to give me information. I only knew you were alive because one person slipped, and they confirmed that you were an active prisoner. You never called me. You never told me what you did!”
I cry until my arms fall limp, and he pulls me in until my face is buried in his shirt. “I didn’t want you to know.” He shakes my shoulders gently, trying to get my attention. “I didn’t want you to know,” he repeats, softer and filled with pain.
“I was so fucking ashamed of everything I did. You told me you were going to drop out of college, and I lost my mind. I thought you’d be better off if I were gone. I thought you could move on.”
I shove away from his embrace. “You thought I’d move on if youdied?”I screech. “All these years, I thought you hated me because of Mr. Arkett. I thought you were punishing me.”
“Don’t say his name,” he begs.
“I thought you didn’t want to see me because I disgusted you. I thought you were mad at me. I knew you’d flip out if you saw what was happening. I knew you’d be angry, but I liked the attention,” I seethe.
All of my emotions are at a tipping point today, and I can’t hold anything back.
“He told me I was pretty and hewanted me. He would have acted on it too, when you never did!”
“STOP!” He begs, grabbing his head in his hands. It’s like déjà vu, seeing him react the same way he did in the courtroom when I told my truth to the judge.
“I carried that with me for years! I held all of that guiltbecause you wouldn’t talk to me! You abandoned me!”
“I went to prison for you!”
“I would have waited!”
“Exactly!” He yells, throwing his hands out. “You would have waited for me, and your life would have been over. You would have put everything on hold, and you wouldn’t have any of this.” He motions around me.
“Your education, your success, and all of your plans for the future would have been ruined because of me!”
“That was my choice,” I mutter.
“What?” He asks in utter disbelief, stepping closer.
“That should have been my choice! But you took it from me.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Olive.”
“I would have chosen you,” I cry. “I would have, but you didn’t choose me.”
“Yes, I did! You just can’t accept that I did what was right for you.”
“Well, I guess we’ll never see eye to eye on this then.”
“I guess not.”
This is when I should go inside. I should slam the door in his face like I have so many times already, but I can’t seem to walk away this time.
