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“Okay.” She snuggles closer, falling asleep within two minutes.
My mind is close to exploding. Aaron is a real person, a person Olivia knew who was depressed. Somehow, he fucked her up bad enough that she flat-out panicked and broke down because she couldn’t get hold of me for eleven hours and forty-five minutes. My stomach rolls and heaves as the anxiety takes the reigns. What am I supposed to do when I know? Will I be able to handle whatever it is she’s going to tell me? What if I end up hurting her as badly too?
That’s not what I want at all. I wouldn’t be able to stand it if I hurt her because of my problems. Doing that would be worse than having to repeat this past year for the rest of my life. This is what her uncle was talking about. He doesn’t want her to get hurt from helping me. Maybe, in the long run, I’m bad for Olivia. I don’t ever want to cause her to react like this again or do even more damage.
Damn it. What am I supposed to do now?
I let her sleep because she probably needs it if she’s been crying all day. Plus, it buys me time to prepare myself for whatever story she’s about to tell me. What was she thinking when she couldn’t get hold of me? That restarted the sobs when she tried to say it.
When she wakes up two hours later, it’s with a start, but she immediately relaxes when she sees me. I run my hand up her back and into her hair at the base of her neck.
“Do you want some water or anything?” She shakes her head. “Have you eaten today?” She shakes a ‘no’ again. “Let’s eat first then.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I don’t care.” And I don’t, because her ass is eating something. I grab her phone off the nightstand and order us a pizza. “I’m going to get my phone, okay? Just in case one of my siblings texts me about Luce.”
For a brief moment, her arms tighten around me, but she lets go and nods. I hate leaving her, especially after today. The dash across the hall is quick. There are dozens of texts and missed calls and voicemails from Olivia. The longer it went without a reply, the closer together they were. They stopped about two hours before I got here. Olivia is sitting on the couch when I return. God, she’s still in her pajamas. How did I miss that?
“Want to race until the pizza gets here?” Maybe that will make her feel better until we talk.
She nods, so I turn on the game before sitting next to her. We race, but there?
??s no cussing. No taunting. No competitive Olivia. I win every single race, feeling like I lost each time. She’s not herself again and I ruined keeping her back-to-normal last night. I’ve already hurt her so much without realizing it. This is all my fault.
A knock on the door signals the pizza delivery guy, so I go answer. She turns on One Tree Hill from where we last left off as we start to eat. Well, I eat. Olivia nibbles on one slice.
Finally, we’ve reached the point of no return. I lay my arm, palm up, on her thigh again and she takes it, interlocking our fingers. Olivia takes a deep breath and shifts to sit sideways, so she can look at me.
“Aaron is an ex-boyfriend from high school.” At this, her gaze drops to our hands, only peeking up here and there as she continues slowly. “I’d known him for forever and we started dating when we were freshmen. We dated almost four years.” Her breathing is slow and controlled. “I knew he had off days, that’s what he always called it, but I didn’t know what it meant exactly.
“Sometimes, those days turned into a month, but he always went back to being happy again. He eventually told me during our junior year what was going on. His parents were very observant, so he started seeing psychiatrists and therapists. Aaron was excited at first because he thought things would get better quickly and he would be done with it.”
She takes two quick breaths. “That didn’t happen. He didn’t like that this was going to be a lifetime issue that he would deal with on and off. So, he stopped going to the appointments and stopped taking his meds, all of which were helping him. He stopped talking to me and,” Olivia pauses, “he shut down. He stopped caring. He gave up.”
A tear falls down on our hands and I pull her against me. “One day, he called me after not speaking to me for three weeks. He had avoided me at all costs, but then, he called on my way to school. He was upset, talking a mile a minute about how he was tired of it, how he didn’t want to fight for the rest of his life, how he couldn’t do it anymore. Then, he said, ‘I love you, but I’m sorry, Olivia’ and hung up.
“I didn’t know what he was sorry for. I tried to figure it out all day as I sat in my classes. He was sorry,” her voice catches. “He was sorry because after he hung up, he attempted suicide.” Olivia breaks down, her story on pause as she cries. There’s only one word on loop in my head. Attempted. That must be why Olivia was always worried about me. She thought I might do the same thing.
Swallowing hard, I ask, “Is that what you thought I did today?”
“I wasn’t sure because I didn’t know if you would, but I didn’t know he would either. I didn’t know if maybe I was being extra crazy from the nightmares or what. I didn’t know what happened to you and it scared me to death because I don’t want anything to happen to you. Nothing can happen to you, Corey. I wouldn’t be able to handle it.” Her trembling, terrified voice cuts me wide open.
“I’m not going anywhere, Olivia. Finish telling me.”
She takes a deep breath. “His mom went home to check on him when she got the call he was absent from school. He tried to overdose on some pills he bought from someone. They were able to save him, thankfully, but after that, his parents sent him off somewhere to start treatment again where he would be watched constantly to prevent another attempt. He wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t see me, wouldn’t listen to the messages I passed on through his parents.
“I thought maybe I was why then, you know? I tried to help him however I could, but it wasn’t good enough. I was so torn up over it all, I went to a therapist myself for about six months. Every year around the time it happened, the nightmares come back.” She takes a second to recollect herself. “I’m always on the phone, begging him not to do it, but he always does. And then,” Olivia looks up at me. “This time, you were there after him. You were going to do it too and I lost you both.”
A lone tear glides down her cheek. “I needed to get away from there, so I left for college and started new here. I don’t know whatever happened to him because I never saw him and no one tells me any news they’ve heard around town,” she continues. “I guess that’s the whole story.”
My worries ease a bit because I’m certain this is one way I won’t hurt her. I can handle her past and do my best to keep from hurting her in other ways.
I cup her face and kiss her once, softly and briefly before resting my forehead against hers. No clue what I’m supposed to say, so I don’t say anything at all.
I’M QUIET FOR so long that Olivia says, “Well, aren’t you going to say something?”
This was something big, and I know that for her to truly believe what I’m about to say, I need to pull my own weight and share something with her. I want to not only make sure she believes me, but show her that I am actually willing to talk to her too without her pushing me first.
