6
Arising wind off the Pacific threatened to turn their framed prints into sails. Dillon kept a tight grip on the protective Bubble Wrap and held the frame sideways to the blow. At least the rain had momentarily paused.
They hurried back up the six blocks, stepping into the road where the sidewalks became clogged with people going nowhere. Tangled remnants of Christmas decorations still clung to streetlights and overhead cables, spinning frantically in the rising wind. The air tasted damp. The clouds swirled and churned.
Despite everything, Dillon was as happy as he’d been in a long time. In a way, it made little sense. Nothing about his own state had changed. Just the same, he was back in the company of his first true love. They were doing something together, sharing an act that had made a deep impression on them both. For the moment, it was enough.
They slipped through the fence surrounding the station lot. The main entrance faced inland, so that the building blocked much of the wind. Olivia unlocked her car and slipped the print she carried into the rear seat. She then joined Dillon under the broad overhang, sheltered from rain now spackling the cars. She spoke in a voice scarcely audible over the strengthening storm. “You broke my heart.”
It was an accusation nine years in the making. Dillon was almost glad to have it out in the open. “I’ve written you a hundred apologies. Late at night. In my head. And heart. I just never had the courage to actually put pen to paper.” He lowered the print so that it balanced on his right shoe. “Plus you’d gotten married and moved to LA. I wasn’t sure you actually wanted to hear from me.”
“I didn’t, truth be told. Not for the longest while.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Truly, deeply sorry. I should have handled it better. Been straight with you about . . .”
“Everything.”
He nodded. “Especially the timing. My big chance came, and we’d just broken up again, and so I left.”
“You ran away.”
He wanted to argue, just like before. She’d always had the ability to press his red button. Ever since they were kids, Olivia could send him into full-rage mode with a single word, sometimes just a look. The way she’d responded, just as furious and sometimes more so, had left him helpless.
But they weren’t kids anymore. And the arguments never got them anywhere. “I didn’t run from you.”
“Oh, really.”
“No. I ran from our arguments. From how we never could hold on to peace, not for more than a night.”
“And then you got your big chance.”
“I did.”
“Which you never told me about.”
“No.” Big breath. “And I should have. Even though I knew it would be the worst argument of all. Me going. Without you. So yeah. I ran away. But mostly I was running from here. This place. It was as tight a cage as the cells back inside there.”
She was quiet now. Thoughtful. “I felt that too.”
“I know you did.” He took a huge risk, reached out, settled his hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Olivia. I was desperate, I was angry, I was hurting, and none of that is any excuse. I should have done things better.”
She examined his face, her expression thoughtful. “Gleason was right. We were just another pair of lonely kids with dreams too big for Miramar.” She flinched as the wind blew rain under the awning. “Let’s get inside.”
* * *
Olivia knew Dillon thought they had stopped under the awning so she could speak of past deeds and broken hearts. But in truth that almost came out unbidden. She had been thinking of their ending, of course. Not the last time they were together. She couldn’t remember that at all. Some argument. One of many. Shouting with the furious abandon of kids who did not know how to hold back. And that’s what they were, of course. Two very young people who knew nothing of the world beyond Miramar, who were so intent on breaking out they fought against everything and everyone. Especially those closest to them. The people with whom they should have been gentle. And almost never were.
All that was with her still as she entered the station. But none of it was why she had stopped beneath the rain-swept awning.
Despite the storm and the empty season and how tonight she would share a jail cell with strangers, Olivia had been struck by the most astonishing of thoughts. Standing there in the gray dusk, Dillon holding the framed print and following her lead, she had found herself turning away from everything that had brought her to this moment.
For that one brief instant, Olivia found herself looking toward an unseen tomorrow.
It was such a sudden and unexpected experience, she became welded to the spot. Wondering what on earth it might mean. If there truly was something, anything . . .
Porter stood by Maud’s desk, his hands filled with papers. He glanced up and told Dillon, “We could use some help, shifting mattresses and linens into our new bachelors’ pad.”
“No problem.” He asked Olivia, “Can I show them?”
