by V. T. Do
My voice cracked at the end, and I hated that.
“I don’t have a good enough reason for you,” he said, his eyes turning red.
I shook my head. “You were supposed to love me. Only me.”
He flinched. His hold on me tightened. I wasn’t sure if that made everything worse or better, considering I still craved his touch.
“I do love you. More than my own life, I swear it.”
It was my turn to flinch. “Do you love her?”
“Who?”
“My mom. Do you love her?”
He hesitated, but that was answer enough for me. I backed away from him, but he followed, shaking his head. “No, don’t think that. I didn’t love your mom. I don’t now. I only love you.”
How was I supposed to believe him? I moved further into the room, knowing I was only moving further away from the exit, but I needed to get away from him. I tripped over my discarded shirt instead, left there days ago. It felt like a lifetime. I didn’t have the energy to get back up.
He came down to me, hugging me to him. “I’m so sorry, baby. So sorry. Please don’t hate me.”
My eyes flashed as anger worked its way in my body. “How can you expect me to be okay with this?”
“Please, Olivia. I’m begging you. Forgive me. Please, baby.”
“I can’t,” I cried, burying my face in my hands. “Stop it. Let go,” I said when he tried to pull them away from my face. My hands were shaking. I knew he could feel the tremors. “Let go!”
I was mad. Mad at him, mad at myself, and mad at everything and everyone. I moved then, backing away with my feet.
“I can’t do it. I don’t know what to do anymore. How do you expect me to keep on being with you like before? I have—go,” I spit out. It was the only solution.
“You can’t leave me!” he cried out. “Not like this.” Without a thought he moved forward, wrapped me up in his arms and buried his face in my neck. I could feel his whispered words against my skin when he said, “You’re killing me, Livie.”
I shook, my body cold, before tightening my arms around myself even more. I didn’t know how to respond.
I could feel his heart beating through his shirt. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” But I didn’t know what he was apologizing for, and I didn’t know what to say.
I let out a strangled sob instead.
“I know,” he said softly, quietly. “I know you’re hurt. I know this hurts. But, please, we’ll figure everything out.”
“What’s there to figure out?” I whispered. “I don’t see how you could ever make this better.” And that was what hurt the most. I didn’t see how it wouldn’t lead to heartbreak.
He didn’t say anymore. Instead, he lifted me up in his arms.
I didn’t push him away.
I let him pull me in close, loving his warmth and touch, and hating myself for loving it. Loving him.
He laid me down and kissed me. Kissed me like this was the last time and he didn’t want to take a single moment for granted. I let him, kissing him back with equal fervor. He began to pull at my clothes until my pants and shirt were thrown carelessly on the floor.
Then he yanked off my panties, somewhat harshly, and I was naked before him.
He kissed his way down from my jaw to my chest. He stopped briefly at my breasts, taking one in his mouth and adding a small bite that had me gasping for air.
I knew I shouldn’t, but I grew aroused the longer he touched me, the ache between my legs that much harder to ignore when he had me spread out before him, his mouth so close to me, I could feel his hot breath.
I moaned when he covered my sex with his mouth, licking the opening before plunging his tongue inside.
I squirmed, biting my lip to keep from making any more noise.
He kept up with the torment, bringing me to the brink of ecstasy only to pull back at the very last second, leaving me unsatisfied and frustrated.
I clenched my sex around his finger when he entered me, and he moved back up my body, kissing me until I kissed him back, his touches growing in momentum as my cries of pleasure mixed with the slick sound his fingers made as they moved.
I pulled at his clothes and he let me, until he was naked, the hard strain of his erection poking at my belly.
He never broke contact as he entered me in one slow, torturous movement.
I closed my eyes, basking in the exquisite burn while I wrapped my legs around his hips, urging him on. His pace quickened with each gasping breath I took.
He flipped us over so I was on top, and it was his turn to urge me on with both hands on my hips. I set the palms of my hands on his chest as I rode him.
He let me control the pace, and I did so, moving slowly, even when everything in my body told me to move faster, move harder.
The hand that was on my hip moved down to my clit, driving me over the edge.
I came crying out his name, feeling him swell inside me before he lost control.
And even then, Mason urged me to keep moving. It was as if he was afraid to end the moment.
I was the same.
“Don’t let me go, Olivia,” he cried out when I came a second time. “I can’t breathe without you.”
51
Olivia
I woke up early the next morning, before the break of dawn. Grabbing Mason’s shirt off the ground, I put it on and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.
When I came back out, Mason was still asleep. I walked over to his side of the bed, looking down at his burly form, clutching the blanket as if it were his lifeline.
I wasn’t sure what to do. A part of me wanted to get back into bed with him, watch over him, and let him comfort me like only he could, even if he was just sleeping.
Another part of me wanted to leave. But how would I go about it? Go back to the house I shared with Max and pretend that leaving him wasn’t killing me?
I had never loved anyone so ferociously. And it turned out to be the biggest heartbreak of my life.
I watched him sleep as indecision fought a war inside of me.
I wanted to stay, because as much as I would love to hate him, I loved him too much. And that was the worst part of it all. That I could still love him that much, knowing what I knew.
His hand grabbed hold of my wrist. I looked down to blue eyes staring up at me, pain filling those depths.
“Stay,” he uttered, his hand on me tightening a fraction. He didn’t give me the chance to answer. I supposed he was too afraid of what it might be, so he pulled me down. I didn’t resist.
I crawled under the covers with him, and without another word, he pulled my body into his until I was cradled against his strong chest.
It was in his arms that I was finally able to let go of the grief about my family that was weighing me down.
It was into his chest that I finally cried for what I had lost, including how things were between us.
I gripped onto Mason’s shirt and cried. All the while, he gently soothed me, telling me everything was going to be okay.
I knew better, though. And so did he.
Nothing was okay. It would never be again.
I left after he fell back to sleep.
The sun was up and shining now, which was different from the musky, dark and gray skies we’d been getting all winter.
It was as if God was playing a cruel joke on me, letting the sun shine bright when I felt so dark.
My mind was surprisingly empty on the short walk home. I didn’t even notice the cold, though I was sure it couldn’t be more than twenty degrees out. Max was up and about; I was certain of it. I went inside and headed straight to his office, knowing I’d find him there.
He looked up when I entered, a frown marring his face, blue eyes dimmed in confusion. “Olivia, are you okay?”
He must have known I was with Mason last night. He didn’t ask, and for that, I was thankful.
I didn’t say anything for a while, wondering why he did
n’t tell me. Why was he protecting Mason? Didn’t I have the right to know, even before Mason and I were in a relationship?
Max stood up and walked over to me. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me in close. I lost it then.
“Shh, sweetheart. I’m here. Tell me what’s wrong. Let me fix it for you.”
I cried harder. Could he fix it, or was my relationship with Mason unfixable? Could I forgive him?
I pulled away and looked at him. Max wiped away my tears. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Mason and my mom?”
I felt him still for half a second before looking right at me. “Who told you?”
“My dad. You and he have been talking.”
I was glad Max didn’t try to deny it. I didn’t know what I would do if he tried to lie to me then. “We have been.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“About Mason and your mom. Or about your dad?”
“Both.”
“Your dad cares about you. So does your mom. I wanted to make sure that when the time came and you were ready to forgive either of your parents, you could. And I knew you didn’t want to see them—that you weren’t ready to see them, but I couldn’t deny them information about you. They wanted to know that you were happy.”
“Parents? You mean my mom, too? You know where she is?”
“Yeah, kiddo. I know where she is.”
“Where?”
He let out a sigh. “New York.”
I frowned. “New York?”
What did she have in New York? Both sets of my grandparents were alive and well and living right here in Illinois. I didn’t see them much. We weren’t close, especially not with my maternal grandparents, who I was sure blamed me for their broken relationship with their daughter.
That was one of the many reasons why I had gone to live with Max and not them. And never even fought the court for me.
A thought occurred to me then. I shrank back a little, and Max let go of me, a look of resignation on his face. “She went there to see Mason, didn’t she?”
He nodded. “Yeah. But she didn’t know he’d moved back to Chicago.”
“And that’s what Mason was doing in New York. Before your birthday. You told me you didn’t even know Mason was back from his trip to New York.”
“Yes,” he said softly.
His gentle tone did nothing but make me want to cry even harder.
My mouth opened in horror when another thought occurred to me. “You kept referring to Mason’s ex-girlfriend in New York. That’s my mom, isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
He tried to pull me into his arms again, but I moved back. Max stopped in his tracks and took me in with wary eyes.
“How is this possible? You loved my mom. Why would Mason and her be…”
I didn’t even know how to word it. What did I call their relationship? And which was worse, to think that their relationship had been physical or to know that it went beyond that?
“Oh, God. I’m going to be sick.”
I pushed passed him to the toilet. Only, I hadn’t eaten anything. I dry-heaved into the bowl, my stomach feeling like it was about to cave in on itself.
Tears sprang to my eyes and my throat hurt, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. I wanted all of this stop.
Max rubbed my back, telling me everything was going to be alright, but how could it?
How could I look at Mason again without thinking about all that he’d done?
I rested my cheek on the toilet seat, closing my eyes to feel of the cold porcelain. I was so damn exhausted. “Okay, sweetheart?”
I gave him a small nod.
“Can I pick you up and bring you to the sink? Or do you think you can get there on your own?”
Again, I nodded. Only I didn’t know what I was saying yes to. Max took that as my consent as he effortlessly picked me up and walked over to the sink. He placed me on top of it, then walked out to the kitchen. Seconds later, he was back with an empty glass.
I watched mindlessly as he filled the glass with water and handed it to me. He didn’t say anything while I rinsed my mouth.
After I finished, I set the glass down and took him in.
“How did you forgive Mason?” I asked.
He frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“How did you forgive Mason for being with my mom… that way?”
His eyes cleared and he relaxed a little. “Oh. There was nothing to forgive. Grace is her own person. She could decide who she wanted to spend her time with. She didn’t need my permission for that.”
Now it was my turn to frown in confusion. “I thought you were in love my mom.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“Well, why else would you stay with us for so long? You were always there when my mom needed you. You hardly ever dated, and I heard you propose to her.”
His eyes widened in surprised. “You did?”
I nodded. I was fourteen at the time. I was supposed to be in bed, but I wanted a glass of water. Max and my mom were talking. I didn’t know what they were talking about exactly, because they were too far away for me to hear, but by the time I got close, I heard Max ask my mom to marry him.
I was so damn excited; I almost gave myself away. And then Mom said no. And I didn’t know why.
“Don’t you love my mom?”
“Of course, I do, kiddo. Grace has always been, and is still, my oldest friend.”
“But aren’t you in love with her?”
His eyes told me his answer before his lips did. “Maybe when we were teenagers. But then everyone was in love with Grace Atkins at one point in their life. Always the prettiest girl in class. Always the most carefree. All the attention gravitated toward her whenever she entered a room.”
“But not now?”
“Not for a while now.” He tucked a strand of my brown hair behind my ear. “Not since before my college years.”
“I don’t understand. Then why would you propose to her?”
His eyes glinted with some unknown emotion, and I couldn’t look away from him. “Don’t you? Marrying Grace was the only way I could think of to bring you into my family. To take care of you. I’ve loved you since that first moment I held you in my arms.”
He shook his head, his eyes unfocused. “God, you were so tiny. You were born premature, and I thought we’d lost you for a moment. I know you’re not my blood, and I know I can’t replace your father, and I don’t want to, but you have to know that I’ve always loved you. I didn’t stay for Grace. As much as I love you mom, she didn’t make it easy to be around her. I stayed for the little girl who held onto my hand so tight that very first time we met, who had always looked up at me with adoration and trust in her eyes. And I swore to myself, I would do whatever it took to make sure that look never went away.”
I jumped off the counter and wrapped my arms around him. A sob burst free and I didn’t know how to quiet it.
“Shh, it’s okay. Everything will all work out, I promise.”
“How do you know?”
“Because when you love someone, and I mean really love someone, you try to make it work with them, no matter what. And you love my idiot brother, don’t you?”
I let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, I do.”
His arms tightened around me, and I buried my face in his chest. If I could, I’d stay there and never leave. My heart wouldn’t hurt as much. I wouldn’t be forced to face my reality, and as I had learned at a young age, reality was often disappointing.
“I don’t know how to be with him again.”
“That’s okay, too.”
“No, it’s not.”
“No, it’s not,” Max repeated. “But it will have to be.”
Well, that sounded depressing.
52
Olivia
I hadn’t seen Mason in more than five weeks. It was just too p
ainful to be anywhere near him.
But I knew Max had been to see Mason. I knew they were talking again. I supposed it was easier for Max to forgive his brother than for me to forgive my boyfriend.
Christmas and New Year’s passed by in a blur. I spent a part of it with Max, but left early because, as mad as I was with Mason, I didn’t want him to spend the holidays alone, which was what Max told me he was planning on doing, despite the fact that their parents had invited us all to their estate for a family dinner.
Mason didn’t go, and I didn’t know what excuse Max gave his mom for why we weren’t attending, but that was that. I was sure Max went over to Mason’s for the rest of the holiday, though I didn’t stick around to confirm it.
It was in the last week of December that I officially moved out of Max’s house, out of the neighborhood I had come to love and think of my own, and into the residential neighborhood of Hyde Park with other college students.
There were about twenty other students all attending the University of Chicago in my apartment building and, I supposed, knowing we were all in the same place in life made living on my own for the first time not feel so isolating.
Lizzie was a lot closer to me than before, just a three-minute walk from my apartment to the small bungalow she now shared with Sam. Sam’s dad had gotten it for them a week before school ended last semester. It made commuting to school easier for both of them, and it provided more than enough room for when the baby came.
So that was a plus.
My first night at the new place, I interrupted their dinner, and Lizzie and I spent the evening watching a scary movie, like we used to do when we were kids.
I ended up confessing the entirety of my relationship with Mason to her halfway through the movie and cried well after it ended.
That was the last time I uttered his name for the rest of break.
Before I knew it, the first day of my second semester was here. Unlike any other first day of school, Max didn’t drive me, and he wasn’t around to take my picture.
I must really be growing up… and the thought just about depressed the hell out of me.
