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I’m sure I did.
But I always go back to her. I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her alone and scared. I have given her everything I could, everything I had. I asked her what she wanted, although I’m sure she didn’t realize that I was asking her at the time. She… all she wanted was a sweet, perfect day. Like the movies. So I did my best to give it to her.
I googled the hell out of that black and white movie she was talking about. I hope I did ok. All I know is that I gave her a day straight out of the cheesiest effing movie—sorry for almost swearing, mom. I didn’t mind the cheese, I even liked it. She deserves no less.
Then I said goodbye to you and I went to meet my death, but she… Sorry, sorry, I won’t cry any more. At least I’ll try to stop, don’t know if I’ll succeed. I woke up in that freezing water, and I… I couldn’t believe it. Mom, she saved me. Me. She…
{voice interrupted by sobbing sounds}
Listen, I… I won’t be alive when you listen to this, but just think that I wouldn’t have been alive to talk to you right now if it wasn’t for her. I’m out of time, I have to take her inside, it’s raining. She is the reason I’m alive. She is the reason I’m me again, after being so lost and so angry for so many months.
I think I love her.
I would like the last thing I do before I die to be to save her, but it’s unlikely I’ll live that long.
I think that the last thing I do before I die will be to love her.
That’s not so bad, is it, mom?
ten
They’ve found us.
A rain of bullets flies straight at the door, but Marco has kept it secured and barricaded, and no matter how hard they shoot at it or pound on it, they can’t get through. The bullets don’t reach us. Weapons pound on the walls, the metal and wood clanging and echoing through the empty space, but the doors of the barn hold. Marco doesn’t get up, he doesn’t reach for his guns. He does nothing.
He just holds me, not moving at all, and we wait the shooting out.
His guns are near him again, but he doesn’t grab them, not yet. Maybe not ever.
“Do you want to keep talking?” he asks me after a while.
“Yeah.” Anything but the dull pounding of the shots outside the walls of the barn.
So we keep talking.
Eventually, the shooting stops. I’m not sure they know we are inside, maybe that’s why they decided to stop wasting their bullets, who knows? Marco gets up to check the walls and his barricades. They are holding up, but he adds more bulk to them. Then he sits back down, after grabbing two more machine guns and positioning them on the floor, opposite the door. They just sit there, waiting for him to take his position behind them—if he gets the chance.
He sits down beside me.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “For the perfectRoman Holidayday. For this. For everything.”
“You can’t be serious.” He turns to look at me, his face a mask of surprise. “You… you don’t thank me. At best, you… you don’t absolutely hate me, even though you should. Even though I’m beyond forgiveness, beyond hope.”
“You’re wrong,” I tell him. “You are so wrong.”
The shooting starts up again, before I can continue. One of the high windows goes bust on the other side of the room. It’s really tiny and well above our heads, let alone too far from us, but it’s the first thing to give way to the killers. Marco checks the straps of my vest, but we don’t otherwise move. He wraps his body around me.
“I’ve been looking for someone to do stupid normal things with me my whole life,” I say and my voice fades at the end, but I continue. I have to say this. “I’m so glad I found you.”
He chuckle-cries and buries his chin in my hair. “Jesus Christ, Olivia,” he says. “I’m already on my knees.”
He kisses me while the dull sound of gunshots echoes in the forest all around us. The sound is much louder now that there is a small opening on the wall near the ceiling. It’s still too higher above us to make a real difference, but it drives home the fact that this is happening. Right now, right here.
Sooner or later, they’ll be inside. And every second until then counts. Marco is fully prepared and armed, and there’s nothing left for him to do. Well, there is one thing.
He can talk.
He will never say all the things he needs to say before it’s too late, but he can say some of the things. And I can listen.
