The Proverbial Mr. Universe

by Maria La Serra

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Will Dario be there?

  “Yeah …”

  “I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’ll be okay.”

  “Okay, but call me when Dario’s gone.”

  Olivia looked at the time and her stomach began to twist. She needed to prepare herself mentally because it’d been some time since she last saw him. And even though life was so much better without him, Olivia wasn’t sure if his control over her was completely diminished. Almost like with a drug, she was afraid she might have a relapse. As crazy at it sounded, she still didn’t trust herself around him.

  Olivia sat there for a moment trying to remember when the shift happened, when the thread had been pulled and her alter ego came through the seams. She was born out of necessity. It was almost essential for her survival to become this prudish, empty, superficial person. It was Dario that wanted her cold; it was much easier to control her that way. She spent so much time living in the small corners of Dario’s life that at the beginning of their break-up, it felt foreign not to have her life tangled with Dario’s. The changes were made quick as she placed a distance from his friends or anything associated with him. This new life was an empty shell that she needed to build up again. It was almost like learning a new language, pronouncing the words wrong or using them in the wrong context. Lately, what felt so offbeat began to feel natural.

  When the doorbell rang, Olivia opened the door and her heart sunk. She had hoped the agent would arrive first.

  Dario looked her over. “You look nice.”

  Olivia frowned. Was he for real? He always hated when she wore her sweatpants.

  “So are you going to let me in?”

  “Of course.” She took a step back, allowing him in.

  “Sorry, I know I’m early.”

  She closed the door behind him. “It’s alright. Joanne will be here soon.”

  “To be honest, I wanted to talk to you about something.” He halted in front of the walnut accent table. From the look on his face, he didn’t seem amused with what caught his eyes. There they were: handwritten notes left out in the open. Maybe she shouldn’t have left them there, but she had nothing to hide.

  “About what?”

  He turned to her, feeling almost naked under his gaze.

  “I fucked up … I know I will never get you back. It’s a punishment I deserve. I don’t think I will ever be worthy of your forgiveness.” The words came out fast and rehearsed.

  “It’s not my forgiveness you need. I think the question is can you forgive yourself?”

  He glanced cautiously at her, and she returned his gaze.

  “I hate what I did to us … I hate what I did to you.” Dario looked wounded.

  She wasn’t sure if he meant the fact he cheated or he had been verbally abusive.

  “Look, Olivia, about what happen with Ann …” Was he about to come clean? Did he want her pity? She extended her hand to stop him from going on.

  “I moved on, so whatever you want to tell me, it’s all irrelevant now.”

  “You hate me.”

  She remained silent, not sure what to say. Mr. Universe had written: The only way to forget someone, is to forgive them. Hate has a way of poisoning the heart, like a nasty virus, consuming you until there is nothing left.

  No, she didn’t hate him. She just wasn’t sure she was ready to forgive.

  “I don’t know how I became this person, this bitter, miserable human being. There are some days I don’t recognize myself. I knew what I did to you was wrong, but yet I just kept on repeating it.” His face looked grave. “I’m so sorry for everything, Olivia, if I could take it all back, I would.”

  “Please, stop. I don’t need to hear any more.” She diverted her eyes to her feet.

  “We were happy … once?” It was a question.

  When her life with him was so tainted with bad memories, it was hard to think of the happy times. She almost felt ashamed to admit that someone that treated her badly was once so important. He made her believe that without him she was nothing. He almost had her … drowning in his web of lies. Then her cage door opened up, and she saw life … her life for what it can be. She thought about his next victim. She was free of Dario, free from the humiliation and the pain, but what about the next girl?

  In the beginning, she would be duped like Olivia had been, believing it was love. With a flip of a switch, everything she thought of him would be a complete lie. But by then she was too far in, too broken to leave. Because that was what abusers did, they manipulated, using words that cut deeper than she could have ever imagined, shattering her until she was too weak to leave. Dario would blame his behavior on her … because it was her fault for dressing a certain way or acting a certain way. If she acted appropriate, he wouldn’t lose it on her. He would keep her in line while she dreaded every time they went out with his friends, fearing that one of his male friends would innocently place a hand on her shoulders or kiss her in greeting, knowing later on that night when it was just the two of them there would be hell because he’d accuse her of provoking it. Sometimes it would get so bad she questioned his sanity … or hers for staying with him.

  So no, she was never happy.

  Dario refused the offer, claiming it was too low and was pointless to counter offer. Olivia knew better when it came to Dario Lippi. There was never any truth; all this was another ploy to manipulate her, to hold on to her.

  The realtor left them both standing in the entrance. Olivia felt his eyes burning into her. She wanted him to leave, but how could she kick him out of his apartment.

  “I have to get ready for work.” She opened the front door for him.

  He nodded. “I … miss you, Liv.” Dario uttered it like it was one last attempt to salvage any love he thought she might have left for him. If he was trying to stir anything from her, then he failed poorly.

  Olivia crossed her arms and looked down at her feet as she shuffled from one side to the other. “Honestly, I really don’t know how to answer that.” She paused. “I mean, how can you even say that? After what you put me through, what you continue to put me through?”

  “I said I was sorry … You have no idea how much this is killing me.”

  “Look, if you want to stay and go over what stuff you wish to keep then fine. If not, I can’t stay here and have this conversation again. Believe me, when I say there is nothing … nothing you can say to me now that will ever change my mind about us.” She grabbed the doorknob. “Please go. I really need to get going.”

  His dark eyes glanced back to the papers on the accent table. “Are you seeing someone?” His eyes met hers.

  “That’s none of your concern,” Olivia spat out.

  He studied her for a long moment before replying, “Keep the furniture. None of it was ever my taste to begin with.” He walked out the door.

  Olivia had wondered if he was talking about the furniture or her. She then reminded herself how close she came to removing him completely from her life.

  Hell, who was he kidding, believing he would get any sleep when Olivia had been perched on his every thought? He never met a girl quite like her before. Of course, there was some sort of cliché to it, but he wouldn’t say that about anyone he met. And Olivia wasn’t just anyone.

  He’d be vulnerable to put her on a pedestal before getting to know what she was really about. Realistically, he was mature enough to know not to get ahead of himself. It was impossible for her to be perfect. He wasn’t, so he didn’t expect her to be either, but it seemed with Olivia the world stopped spinning and everything came into focus. It didn’t happen often, finding someone that could do that to him … this exhilarating feeling. He was conscious that something inside of him shifted. That was the thing about life: just when Nick thought he wasn’t looking for anything or anyone, he found something extraordinary.

  Nick used
to be the kind of person who never had any plans that made any sense. He thought about Chloe. At the beginning of their relationship it seems rushed. Chloe was easy to be around. Come to think of it, she was just plain easy. He met Chloe many years ago at a bar. She was a tall, bleached blonde with a hot body that flirted with him all evening. By the end of the night he got her number, and she was in his bed. Within a week, she moved into his apartment. He found her exciting, unpredictable, off-balanced, and at the time Nick was drawn to that. Little did he know those attributes could become more like a nightmare. He allowed her to take everything he loved away from him. She isolated him from his family, and he stopped painting when she accused him of not spending enough time with her.

  It was always Chloe. First. Last. Always. Chloe. His entire universe revolved around her. He had wasted two years of his life with Chloe. She had consumed him, devoured him, and when he was spit out, he had become a shadow of a man he once was. After a while it became a question of should he stay or should he go? Her insecurities and instability had become overwhelming at times. He believed in being in a committed relationship. When things got tough, he told himself he couldn’t just walk away because he wasn’t his father. Then one day he got sick, seriously ill, and it left him hospitalized. What he thought was a common cold ended up being virus called Myocarditis that attacks the heart muscle. Nick was in heart failure. After several months in and out of the hospital, Chloe left him.

  Nick saw it coming. He had enough experience with people pulling away from him to know when it was happening. He remembered lying in the hospital bed after months of fighting for his life, and she simply told him she needed her space to figure things out, that she still loved him but just didn’t know how to handle what Nick was going through at the time. He had given her the time that she needed, hoping she would come back to him. Then he found out while hospitalized that she was with someone else.

  Nick had lost so much: his father, his heart, his girlfriend then his mom. A girl he went on a blind date with once said to him, “Good God, how do you get out of bed?” It was true, Nick had been to Hell and back so many times he could easily allow the pain to destroy him. He realized that he didn’t have control over the things that happen to him, but he did have a loving family and surrounded himself with friends. He just needed to keep on moving forward. Letting go of the pain meant he had to be brave, and being brave was not easy. It took a lot of work. It was a choice he made every day, like a small little prayer he told himself. He could have easily never left his bed, but he wanted to show up and be seen in his own life. What happened in the past didn’t matter now. Nick needed to be in the present.

  Olivia was in the present.

  He liked that Olivia was entirely different than Chloe. One of their conversations had been about how she preferred to get to know someone slowly.

  “If you can’t be friends first, how can you be anything else?”

  She had a point. Maybe she was exactly what he needed. God knows if she wanted to move things quickly, he would have no problem with it either.

  Nick would go as far as saying he could see himself spending the rest of … whatever with Olivia. Nick needed to stick to certain facts. He didn’t know what his future held. The longevity of his life was defiantly in the gray area. She deserved someone who could give her the kind of life and love that can run the test of time, and that made Nick ultimately wrong for her. Lifetime was a word that Nick once took for granted. He always thought he had plenty of time. He understood life was short, but not only for him but for everyone, and he took comfort in that. He had this little mantra that he would say to himself when he would get a little down about his circumstances: be here, stay focused, and live fearlessly. Sometimes it was easier said than done. Early on, Nick chose to be brave. There was never a moment that Nick allowed himself to ever feel sorry. He was blessed with so many things in his life, and that was what he needed to focus on. As for Olivia, it would be too early to tell her at this point. For now, he decided he’d see where things went with them.

  By five in the morning Nick was in his studio. He began to mix new paint, looked at the large, blank canvas before him. He wasn’t able to muster motivation, not one ounce of inspiration to continue his work. It seemed like there was a lack of passion for his craft and a fear crept in his mind, that there was a possibility that his creativity had dried up. If that had been the case where would that leave him?

  He felt his heart thump hard and closed his eyes, breathing in the air deeply. He wasn’t empty. He could sense there was so much going on in his head and in his heart … maybe he felt disconnected with himself. The only thing he had on his mind at this very moment was the brunette with the smart mouth.

  He looked at his watch, wondering if Olivia would be at work by now. Maybe they could meet for lunch. After all, last night she did volunteer her number. It rang three times and went to her voice mail. He hated talking to a machine. His heart started to pick up the pace and his palms began to sweat.

  “Ah … Hi, Olivia. It’s Nick … just calling…” he cleared his throat “…ah … I was just calling to see how you are … Anyway, call me back. It’s Nick … Bye.” He tapped his phone on his head.

  Ugh, get a grip.

  The phone rang and he was eager to press the answer button.

  “Hey … you.”

  “Hi, Nick? Sorry, I missed your call. I didn’t hear my phone ring.”

  “That’s okay.” There was a short pause. “I know there’s some sort of waiting period before calling a girl after the first date … but I’m not the kind that follows the rules too well.” He paused again. “It’s just that I had such a good time last night …”

  “So did I,” Olivia added. “I’m going to be at Café Orleans later on. Would you like to meet up for lunch?”

  “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

  “Sure, that sounds great. I’ll meet you there in half an hour?”

  “Alright, sure …”

  There was an awkward moment of silence. He was trying to find something clever to say to keep her on the line a little longer. He heard the sweet sound of her voice from the other end.

  “So what are you doing?” she asked.

  “Right now?” He looked back at the canvas that he just completed.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I am talking to this incredibly beautiful girl.”

  There was another long pause.

  “How’s that going for you?” He could see her smile in her voice.

  “Honestly, I’m so incredibly nervous …” He laughed.

  “Do I make you nervous, Montgomery?”

  “I …” He sighed. “You know you do.” He ran his hand back and forth through his golden hair. “I like you … and I don’t want to mess things up. I never met someone quite like you before.” He placed his hands over his eyes. Maybe it was best to reveal a little less of himself to her, but when it came to Olivia, he couldn’t help himself.

  “Oh, that’s so cliché …”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, that’s the sort of thing you say to a person when you’re first getting to know them. You always think they are different and unique … until you find out they’re not.”

  “Are you always this pessimistic?”

  “I’m a realist.”

  “You had to go and ruin the perfect moment.”

  “I’m sorry, Montgomery. I just don’t want you to think that highly of me. I promise, you’ll be disappointed.”

  Nick frowned at her words. It felt like Olivia was just building another wall between them. She was trying to discourage him, intentionally or not, but Nick wasn’t a guy who was scared off easily.

  “I’m all kinds of imperfections,” she added.

  “What, you’re not perfect? Hmmm, now this is going to be a problem,” he said, “because I only date women who are perfect.”

  She laughed.

  “I guess Mr. Fancy Pants really did a number on you
.”

  She was silent.

  “Look, Olivia, imperfection is not necessarily a bad thing. Everything has an imperfection … some sort of flaw that’s always been there. If you look at it long and hard enough, at some point you’ll find it in everything. Our imperfections make us who we are … it gives us uniqueness. Personally, I think imperfections are a real and beautiful thing.”

  She remained quiet, taking it in, or maybe she thought he was lame … because with Olivia he never knew which way it was going to go.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “What makes you think I’m thinking of anything?” She laughed softly.

  “Oh, I could hear those wheels turning in that beautiful head of yours,” he said.

  “Are you always like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “So … I don’t know … proverbial.”

  “What can I say? I guess I have a proverbial heart.” He paused. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “No. I rather like that about you. It’s just you’re …”

  “What?” he said, leaning onto his desk.

  “You’re not what I imagined,” she replied

  “Now that’s sounds so cliché.”

  “Touché.”

  “So what were you expecting?”

  Olivia laughed.” I don’t know. You have this raw edge about you, but then when I talk to you, I’m surprised you’re not what I expect.”

  “Yeah, well don’t be fooled by my neglected, scruffy appearance,” he said, rubbing his jaw.

  “No, that’s not what I meant. You’re honest, thoughtful … a sweet guy.”

  He chuckled. “Ugh, nice guy, eh? Shoot! That’s going to hurt my reputation.” When she didn’t make a sound on the phone, he said, “Listen, Olivia, everyone has many sides to them. One side is for everyone to see and the other parts we want to hide from the world. The side we hide, what we don’t want the world to see, it’s our most vulnerable side and it is our true self. Our dreams and passion our beliefs. This part of ourselves we hide because we are afraid if we show it to others, we might not be accepted by them. I guess you have a way to bringing that side of me out.”