by Mj Fields
He looks shocked at my outburst, but like all expressions of his, it flips to an unwritten page in the book of Oliver, a book I’m just never going to get a chance to truly read.
“That’s my going away present for you, Oliver. That, and the burden you can carry caused by loving me. Because you may be able to fool yourself, but you don’t fool me. You breathed life into me, made me believe I was so strong, beautiful even. Then, you stole it back.”
“Natasha.” His tone is full of authority.
“Fuck you for not seeing me as anyone else but me! I’m not Grace!”
“I’m well aware of that.” He gives me a look of faint amusement.
“I’m not a toy!”
“I never even opened the box and tried to play–”
“You bastard.” I lunge at him, and beat my hands against his chest. Then I jump back, and I curse myself for striking out at him. When I turn to run, his arms catch me and he pulls my back to his chest.
I cover my face and beg through tears, “Just let me go. I’m sorry, I’m so–”
“Shh,” His body shakes against mine and I start to look behind me at him. He puts his forehead to the back of my head and his voice shakes when he whispers, “Don’t.”
“I’m so sorry.” I sniff.
“I know, and so am I.”
“Then don’t go, Oliver, just don’t go. I promise I will stop doing whatever–”
“This isn’t about you, Natasha, this is something I need to do. This is about me. I’m apologize if it hurts you, I truly do.”
I grab his arms and squeeze them, and he inhales a deep breath.
“What if I never see you again, Oliver?”
“I’m confident that’s not going to happen.”
“Then why?”
“Everything happens for a reason.”
“God, I hate that.”
I feel pressure at the top of my head. I know it’s his lips and then he inhales. My body relaxes against his and then I feel his do the same. “I’m a firm believer in it.”
“It brings me comfort to know that everything happens for a reason, too, Oliver. But just this once, I would like to be let in on the reason.”
His silent chuckle reverberates against my back. “Wish I could clear that up for you.”
I let out a held breath and whisper, “I think you’re the only person who can.”
“You gotta walk before you crawl, chew before you swallow, and you have to know the answers yourself before give them to someone else.”
“What are you searching for, Oliver?”
When he turns me around, I look up at him as he studies my face. I expect his gaze to land on my scar, but it doesn’t. He looks from one eye to the next, over and over.
“I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“Well, I know that blue eyes are from dreamers and drifters, and brown eyes are grounding, but I just can’t figure the color of yours out.”
“They’re green.”
“They’re not just green, they’re aspen.”
“Then question answered.”
He leans down, closing his eyes as he rests his forehead on mine and whispers, “Not yet it isn’t.”
“So, you’re going to war in search of the question you have about my eye color?”
“I am.” His lips touch my forehead.
“That’s ridiculous.” And so heartbreakingly beautiful.
“I’ve been through hell for less, war is a walk in the park.”
“Oliver?” I sigh when his lips travel down the side of my face. My head tilts back as they continue down my neck. When the tip of his tongue travels across my collarbone, I push my chest against his and whimper at the feel as they harden against the fabric between us. He sprinkles kisses up the side of my neck and he nips at my ear. I hear his breaths become more labored and less controlled and when his knee pushes against my center, everything inside of me quivers.
I open my eyes when his kisses cease and his forehead comes to rest on mine. The way he looks at me is full of undeniable lust.
“I want–”
His finger touches my lip. “Shh. I know.”
My hands capture his and I kiss his finger, like he did mine at the club, I lick it and then I wrap my lips around it and suck.
“Jesus Christ,” he groans.
“Natasha!” I hear my mom yell from outside the room. “Natasha, are you okay?”
He lifts my chin and kisses under it while whispering, “Go.”
That night I slept in Maisie’s bed. When I felt it dip, I wasn’t afraid. When he wrapped his arms around me and pulled my back to his chest, I wasn’t nervous. When he kissed the back of my head and then inhaled, I wasn’t angry. I was exactly where I wanted to be. But when I woke and he was gone, I was all of those things.
When I went downstairs, Mom was hugging Bass. When his eyes met mine, they said he’s gone.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Natasha (Thanksgiving Day)
“In an old house in Paris covered in vines,” I smile at Joshua as he clumsily tries to get a hold of the pages, “Lived twelve little girls in two straight lines-”
“If you’re gonna read to your brother, could it at least be a book about boy stuff?” Bass laughs. “Christ, look around this place, he’s going to be dressing in drag before he’s even old enough to know what sex he likes.”
Mom laughs then whispers, “If he takes after his father, it will be lots of sex.”
“Gross, huh, Joshua?”
Mom gasps, “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”
“Well, if these walls could talk, they’d be screaming pretty soon, Joshua’s going to be a big brother.”
“Oh God.” Mom covers her face.
“And that, too I bet.” I swear that’s Oliver’s voice.
Bass gasps and then laughs as he looks at his computer. “Hey Ollie, long time no see.”
“Been busy here on the beach.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, just wanted to tell you happy Thanksgiving and see how things are going?”
“Happy Thanksgiving to you too, man. Things are good. Line sold out in two days and we held it together without you.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Which doesn’t mean we can keep covering your ass. We’re going to need all hands-on deck for this bridal line Natasha’s created.”
“Wedding dresses, huh?” He laughs
“Yeah, big names started requesting one of a kind Natashas. Then our overachiever had some old sketches and thought, hey, why not make some more money.”
“How’s she handling all that and school, Bass?” The concern in his voice makes me nearly dizzy.
“She’s fine, aren’t you, Natasha?”
Damn it, of all the days for me to look like hell, why is it today?
“What?” And my voice cracks.
“Ollie thinks we’re treating our star poorly. Come let him see for himself that you’re being fed and let out of the studio once in a while.”
I set the book down and stand, giving myself a moment to make sure the dizzy is just in my head. When I walk over to Bass, I take a deep breath before looking at the screen. He looks amazing.
“You’re in one piece still, I see.”
When he doesn’t reply and Bass laughs, I look at the screen and see that only my midsection is visible. And of course, I’m braless.
“Why don’t I let you have a seat.”
Bass stands, and I sit in the seat and my face heats immediately due to the way he’s looking at me.
“Let’s you and me go see what your Mom is up to.” He takes Joshua from me. “When you two are done, let me know so I can say goodbye.”
My eyes don’t leave his, and his don’t leave mine.
“You’re a brunette.”
“Blonde was a phase.”
“A three-year phase?” He smirks and this time it doesn’t leave his face. It’s real.
“O
ff and on. But sometimes a girl needs to go back to her roots.”
“You look amazing.”
“You do too.” My chest tightens.
“So you’re imagining wedding gowns nowadays?”
I shrug. “Every girl does at one time in their life.”
He nods. “You pissed at me?”
“For leaving me and not saying goodbye? Why would that upset me?”
“So that’s a no.”
“That’s a no.”
“Thank you.” He runs his hand though his hair. “So.”
“So.”
“How’s Stella?”
I smile. “Her little brother is living with their mom and she’s graduating in a few weeks. She’ll be here after Christmas break starting her first semester.”
“And how’s living in la Placard?”
“Honestly a bit lonely.”
He scowls. “And where’s Celine?”
“I let her go,” I shrug.
“Natasha,” he hisses.
“Joking, she’s good. She’s been juggling lovers.”
“Juggling lovers, huh?”
“You were right about Shana.”
“I’m right about most things.” I get another grin.
“But your last hook up, the chick you brought to the wedding–”
“The lesbian I brought as a date, because I was told you were bringing one.”
I can’t help but giggle, “By who?”
He shakes his head. “Never mind.”
“Whatever with your never minds.”
He smiles then from ear to ear and God, it’s beautiful.
“Do you miss me, Oliver?”
His smile softens, and he whispers, “Every day.”
“Oliver?” When I say his name, to ask him if maybe there’s a chance for us, someone else in the background does as well, a female someone.
He looks confused and then turns around and stands. When he audibly gasps, I hear the female someone else do the same thing.
“Oh my God, it is you!” she exclaims.
“Grace?”
I see her run and embrace him, and I see his arms wrap around her and hear him whisper, “Grace.”
If the sound of my heart cracking completely open wasn’t deafening, I’m sure I would hear words from two star-crossed lovers. Of a love that survived years of trials and tribulations. I would hear them pledging their undying love for one another. I would hear it all, but I can’t because my heart is literally cracking, and piece by piece it is falling into a place where it will never be able to be made whole again.
Not only do I hear it, I fell it too, the pain, the anguish, the clench in my chest that causes my hand to rest upon it as I try to slow the heat that's rising too quickly, so quickly, up my throat... making it almost impossible to swallow back tears... tears, because my heart, my heart just cracked into pieces.
I wonder if he even noticed.
Unable to take it anymore, I run from the desk, but when I hear Mom and Bass walking toward me, I stop and regain my composure.
“Hey Oliver, wants to say goodbye.”
“Already?” Bass laughs.
“Yeah,” I laugh. “Some chick came in and gave him the Top Gun, Goose and Carole kiss.” I force another laugh. “I forgot I promised to call Stella.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Natasha
While trying to find a new song to listen to on repeat, because my go to is no longer mine. I gave it to him, along with every dream I ever dreamed, every wish I ever wished, every prayer I have ever prayed, I found it. It’s not your typical broken-hearted ballad, or a man hater song. I mean how could it be, we were not truly ever a couple. And more importantly, I could never hate him. He never lied to me. He never wanted to hurt me. And as much as I would like to hate him, how could I? He’s still Oliver, the man who treated me with respect, kindness, and even if he could never say it, I know had he simply stepped over the line that he drew, he would have loved me. But he didn’t, therefor I will never hate him. So, the song, It’s perfect. It’s mine and Oliver’s song now. It’s Happier by Marshmello/Bastille.
Happier is Oliver and my song, but it’s not one of Natasha’s song for Oliver. You are my sunshine, the one by Jasmine Thompson, that’s one he’ll never know about. Another is How Long Will I Love You, by Ellie Goulding. Consequences by Camila Cabello, that induces immediate tears. Wasting my Younger Years by, London Grammar, Fallen So Young by Declan Donavan, Breathe by Flurie, Be Alright by Dean Lewis, and of course, Closeness by Dermot Kennedy. I should have taken that song, my first dance, with my first love, as it was, foreshadowing, and it literally brings me to my knees when I’m behind closed doors.
When it gets too hard, that I have to Imagine he’s with me, or I may die, I listen to what I would imagine our wedding song would have been, belong to you by Jacob Lee.
Over the past few days I learned that in the Army, Oliver was trained as a combat engineer. His specialties were weapons, security and explosives. I learned that a man he had served with had blown his hand off and when asked to come back as a civilian and further train and assist soldiers, in an unknown location, that apparently was laden with hidden explosives, he accepted a very hefty sum of money to spend three months in the desert.
I also learned that Oliver had kept his childhood home. Paid the taxes and never sold it. It was now on the market. Along with his savings, the property in Virginia, and the money he made for being a government contracted training specialist, he had the money he needed to buy Bass’s half of Maisie’s home. Bass tried to refuse the money, but Oliver told him he wouldn’t accept his charity and Bass finally agreed. Soon Oliver would own Maisie’s home.
I’m so happy for him.
Bass was excited he would be putting down roots.
Oliver had also told Bass about Grace. The same Grace that was bitten by a dog when she was a foster child in his family’s home. She was scarred for life, but was now serving in the US Army in charge of a K9 unit. If I didn’t hate that she now had the man I will always love, I would applaud her courage.
I’m happy for her.
I also knew he would be spending Christmas with her, and coming here, for New Year’s.
And now, two weeks before Christmas, I wish I could be like a bear and hibernate. I wish I could, but I can’t.
I’m not happy for me.
I told Stella that and she laughed. She thinks it’s cute that I want to be a bear, but she doesn’t know why. I don’t want to burden her with my issues, she has enough going on. All she knows is I’m coming to New York for a short visit… because if I don’t do… something, I’m going to lose my damn mind.
I miss her so much.
“Where are we going again?” Stella asks for the twentieth time.
“Emporia, Virginia,” I answer.
“Why?”
“It’s a surprise?”
“And they just let you take a company jet?”
“I really didn’t ask.”
“Natasha, say what?”
“It’s fine.”
“Why are you acting weird? It’s kind of freaking me out.”
“Would you lie for me?”
She nods.
“Hide a body for me?”
“Now you’re definitely freaking me out.”
“Would you?” I ask.
“Yeah, I could but–”
“This isn’t that bad, but does include a chainsaw.”
“A what?”
“The less you know, the better off you are.”
She twists in her seat and holds up her hands, palms facing me. “Okay, just hold the fucking phone.”
“I wouldn’t have involved you if I didn’t need someone to drive.”
“Is this about the inked God of Heat, because bitches like us don’t trip on men. It’s hoes before bros and this,” she waves her hand up and down her frame, “This wouldn’t fare well in a cell full of horny women.”
When I start to cry, she
lunges at me and we cry, together.
“You can’t wear heels and cut down a tree,” Stella laughs at me.
“They’re not just heels, they’re red bottoms.”
“You Boujee bitch,” Stella laughs and takes a picture of me.
“You’ll go to the grave with that photo,” I say as I yank on the pully thing and the damn thing almost starts.
“Or the tabloids if you don’t give me a damn job,” she laughs.
“Get mad, baby, kick it’s ass!”
“Hold the damn flashlight so I don’t cut off one of my limbs.”
I yank hard, putting all my frustration into it and the chainsaw comes to life.
Placing the chain against the tree, I try to remember what the YouTube video said about wedging it so it falls properly, but there is only a small structure that seems to have overgrown brush surrounding it. If it wasn’t so dark under this tree of horror, I’d get a better look, but I think it’s some type of gazebo.
After I’m halfway through it, I decide to go to the car and grab the wedge things out before I continue on.
Leaning into the trunk, I hear crunching and then Stella scream, “Oh no!”
I jump back and watch as the tree falls, on top of the gazebo.
“Oh my God,” I gasp covering my mouth.
“Get in the damn car, girl, we gots to go!”
The entire drive back to the airport, we are laughing, but not the kind of laughter that would be considered celebratory. Not like the laugh of two bad asses who just committed a felony and got away with it. It was more a laugh like two women who’d probably never broken a rule, aside from creating a fake social media account for, as Stella said, “A damn good reason,” we laughed because we were totally freaking terrified that we were going to get caught and go to jail.
New Year’s Eve and I’m at home, with my mom, baby brother, and my designer stepdaddy waiting for GQ Joe. Maisie’s nurse Fiona stayed on as Joshua’s nanny, who once told me she was bored out of her mind because she rarely got to actually do her job, but tonight, she was staying with him while we went out to dinner.
