So, Oli was not quite a total liar yet. How reassuring.
“But I can’t lose my family over this,” he added, with a decisive nod.
Then he looked up at Aberlour, his blue eyes filled with unnamed anguish and said, “Wouldn’t you have done the same for your mother?”
“No.”He wasn’t sure what Oliver had expected Aberlour to say, but going by his expression, that wasn’t it.
That single word hung in the air between them. Oliver’s scrutinized his face, as if searching for any doubt.
There was none.
Oliver sighed, as if resigned to his fate. “Just for now,” he said, after a while. “I’ll do this for my mother, and then—” he stopped, shook his head, and repeated, “just for now.”
“Just for now,” Aberlour echoed mockingly. “And when you’re done with this favour, you what? Expect me to come right back?”
Oli looked at him like he hadn’t quite gotten that far in figuring things out.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Well, if you wanted,” he added, quickly.
“Like a good little bitch, right? At your beck and call?” Aberlour answered, the anger sneaking past his defenses.
They were no longer sitting. Both had risen to their feet at some point. Oliver was a few feet away, one hand extended as if he wanted to touch Aberlour. He didn’t. It was a godsend that he hadn’t, because Abe wasn’t sure he’d have been able to stand it. Whether he’d have punched his way to freedom, or clutched Oli’s hand so hard he’d never be able to let go, was entirely uncertain.
That very uncertainty shook Aberlour to his core.
Oliver ran a hand through his hair. The dirty blond locks were once again thick and out of control. He’d gotten an official reprimand just that morning and had been ordered to get it cut. Abe had the fanciful thought that his hold on Oli would be gone right along with his shorn hair.
Oliver looked up at him, face open, expression vulnerable. “I know what I want Abe, I just—I have to put things on pause for a bit. Just for a little while.”
I know what I want, he’d said.Strangely enough, Oliver hadn’t been able to put words to what they were only a fewminutes ago. What good was it knowing what you wanted if you weren’t willing to fight for it?
Aberlour felt like crying. He didn’t remember ever feeling this way other than the day he’d stood at the gravesites of his parents.
It had to be grief. That was the feeling lodged in his throat. He was beginning to grieve. Forced to give up everything he held dear, his heart clenched painfully.
“You ever care about what I want, Oli?” he asked, only too aware of the raw desperation in his voice.
“Of course,” he answered quickly. Too quickly, as he took a step forward, drawing closer to Abe.
“Then break it off,” Aberlour commanded without any hesitation. He hadn’t even known beforehand that he would actually say those words, but now that he had, he’d die taking a stand on this hill.
Before Oliver could reply, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed the back of Oliver’s neck. His grasp was firm but gentle as his thumb brushed against the familiar skin. “You know—I think I fell for you that day on the bus ride to bootcamp. You wanna know why, Darling? ‘Cause that kid was terrified, but fucking brave. I chose that guy to back me up, build a team, build a life. Ichosehim because I believed in him. Because I knew, no matter what the world threw at us, he’d fucking face it. That’s the guy I love. But this guy,” he nodded towards Oliver, hoping the disdain on his face would be obvious and hurtful, “this asshole who’ll break those around him, so he won’t disappoint parents who’ll never be satisfied—I won’t love this guy. I won’t stand for him. I don’t know him.”
“That’s not fair,” Oliver replied, jerking away as if recoiling from a shot to the chest. “You can’t ask me to choose,” he said indignantly, like it was truly mind-blowing to him that Aberlour might ask him such a thing.
“I can and I am,” Aberlour said decisively. He closed the distance between them again, placing a hand on Oli’s shoulder. With another gentle squeeze, he looked deeply into Oliver’s gorgeous blue eyes that were swirling with emotion.
Ask me to drown in them,Aberlour thought.Ask me, and I will.
“I’d choose you over anything.” He bared his soul, with no thoughts of pride or restraint, just in case Oli didn’t already know.
Oli’s lips parted in shock, but he didn’t speak.
I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same.Oli had once said.
“At least now you know how I feel, Oli,” he said, before he stepped away and walked out. He felt at peace for the first time in days. In bits and pieces, heartbroken, but at peace.
It didn’t last. Inner peace never did.
