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So why do I feel like hell? Why do I hurt every time her name flits through my mind? It doesn’t matter how many times or in how many ways I tell myself she fooled me; I still feel the same ache.
Standing up so quickly that my chair flies across the room, I glare into the sunny blue Seattle skyline. Even the weather’s mocking me. I want clouds and gloom, but the world goes on its merry way, indifferent to my pain.
People sail on the water, my camp is open and children frolic and laugh there. My brothers revel in their lives with their lovely wives, showing off their children — they’re pictures of perfect domesticity, damn them. Earth keeps spinning in its usual way, while I’m spiraling out of control. I feel weighed down, depressed,grave.
Will she get married, settle down, have a dozen kids, and star in a reality TV show? Is this everything she’s ever wanted? To find a weak man? That isn’t who Olivia is. She’s mine, dammit... but I walked away.
I dig my fingers through my hair and rub my chest, where a permanent ache seems to reside. This is ridiculous. I should’ve forgotten all about this woman by now. But what if the child’s mine?
Sagging against the window, I put my hands out and the ache only grows. What if the child isn’t mine? Do I even care? Am I willing to raise a child who isn’t mine? Of course I care. I’ve been cheated on before. It’s what women do. My mother sure as hell didn’t known how to stay faithful, and it cost her and my father their lives.
But my sisters-in-law would never cheat. Just look at them. They’re in love, happy, and devoted. Isn’t this what I’ve always wanted?
Before I have a clue of what I’m doing, I’m in my car and heading down the road. As I fly across the city, I watch the sun set. Of course it’s beautiful, lighting the sky with purples and oranges. Even nature mocks my misery.
After pulling up to Olivia’s apartment building, I sit in the car and look up at her window. What am I doing here? What do I plan to say to her? She certainly won’t welcome me inside. Not after the last words we exchanged, the mistrust between us. I should call off this mission and drive away. It’s what’s best for both of us.
Instead, I climb from my car and walk to her door. Whether or not I’m ready for this, my fist lifts almost of its own accord and knocks loudly.
The door opens and I see surprise on Olivia’s face. I can see she’s trying to decide if she should slam the door shut or let me in. A myriad of emotions flutter across her face, and I watch her mask it into polite boredom. It’s the worst expression she can give me. As if I mean nothing at all. My eyes drift from her face to her stomach. It’s still flat, but inside it grows a child. Is it mine? Again, do I care? Of course I care.
“Hello, Tyler. What are you doing here?” Her voice holds no emotion; it’s level and lawyery.
“Invite me in, Olivia.” Do I look maniacal? Probably. I’m definitely acting that way. I hold my hand against the door in a gesture that assures her I’m not going in any direction but forward.
“Now isn’t a good time. I’m working on a case file and...” She doesn’t bother saying more. We both know she’s making up an excuse. Why expand on it?
I move forward and she takes a step back. If it was fear on her face, I’d be horrified. But it isn’t fear, not of me anyway. She can’t hide her reaction to me. She’s afraid of my touch, afraid of what it will do to her, but she’s not afraid of me. Well, I’m afraid. Because I can’t seem to live without this woman.
“It’s incredibly rude to leave someone standing in your doorway.” I brush past her, walking inside her place. “Where’s Piper?” I don’t stop until I make it to her living room. I hear the front door close and then her footsteps as she stomps after me.
Damn, I’ve missed her. I’ve missed her laughter, her fight and drive, her smell, the way she tastes. I’ve missed each moment of each day I’ve spent with her. I don’t care what happened between us, don’t care that each of us have hurt the other. All I care about is that I want her in my arms — and I don’t want to let her go again.
“It’s also incredibly rude to barge into someone’s house, Tyler. You weren’t invited, and I have a lot of work to get done,” she tells me, her cheeks flushed in anger.
“Yes, I was brought up badly, Olivia — you know my history. What have you been doing this past month?” She looks at me as if I have two heads. Maybe I do. I’ve certainly made enough wrong choices in my life to claim a split personality, at the very least.
“What are you doing, Tyler? Why are you here?”
“I’ve missed you. I want to know what you’ve been up to. Isn’t that what people ask when they haven’t seen each other for a while?”
Her mouth gapes open. “You need to leave, Tyler. I can’t... can’t do this,” she says, and much to my horror tears appear in her eyes.
As quickly as they appear, though, she blinks, and she’s shooting fire at me. The tears give me hope. The fire makes me glad. She isn’t a weak woman. She can’t be broken. And damned if I haven’t tried. What a fool I’ve been.
“Are you expecting someone else to stop by?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
“What in the world are you talking about?” she replies.
“Are you with anyone, Olivia?”
“With someone? How?”
“Do you have a man in your life?” It almost chokes me to say the words. Her mouth drops open and her eyes blaze with far more heat and outrage than I’ve ever seen before.
“Yes, Tyler. Of course I’m expecting a guy to drop by. Any minute now. So I’d really like you to leave. I have to rush off to the kitchen, shed all of my clothes, drape my body in nothing but Saran Wrap, and open the door to my lover. He’ll peel the plastic off. Slowly? Quickly? Who knows? Who cares? We’ll get it on right against the freaking door.” This image fills me with rage. It makes me shake, and I have to calm myself before speaking again.
“I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else, Olivia.” How can I admit this? Am I another weak man, like my feckless father, who was duped so disastrously by my mother? She looks at me, confusion dominating her face.
