Paper Dolls [Book Five]

by Blythe Stone

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she confessed.

  “Too many thoughts?” I asked.

  I’d given her plenty to mull over and over-think.

  “Guess so,” she said softly.

  “Sorry, I feel like I just passed out on you.”

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said.

  “You didn’t. I just woke up naturally and you weren’t there so I came looking. I hope you don’t mind me barging into your solitude,” I said, squeezing her body and loving the way it felt.

  “I love you here,” she reminded.

  “I know but I was a shit. I said some really stupid things and I hurt you. I feel awful and I’m sorry. I was the one not listening and thinking.”

  “I was wrong with Natalie,” Olivia sighed. “I shouldn’t have kissed her. For whatever reason I just thought it wouldn’t be even remotely harmful. I was careless.”

  “Baby, no. It doesn’t matter. I know why you did and what it meant. I just still have problems imagining that I’m worthy of you sometimes. I know it shouldn’t matter what my brain says.”

  “Babe, you have trust issues and they make sense. They’re valid, you haven’t known me that long. I should’ve thought about it harder.”

  “But I don’t want you to not do things like that,” I realized. “You’re an amazingly empathetic and sensitive person and you know by instinct what people need. You needed it too. You needed to let go of the feelings and the situation with Natalie. You felt so bad about it and it was finally at a point where you could forgive yourself. Don’t ever stop being you. That’s who I love.”

  “We don't have to pull it apart,” Olivia said. “I just wanna know you’re okay and I wanna know what I can do. I’m sorry I freaked out back there. I just didn’t want you to watch me cry like that, I was really upset.”

  “I know. I’m sorry I upset you but I’m glad I found you now. The bed is weird without you. I never thought I’d get used to sleeping with someone.”

  She twisted in my arms and turned her body into mine, resting her forehead and her hand on my skin. “We’re getting scary aren’t we,” she asked. “Can’t kiss anyone, can’t touch anyone, can’t even sleep apart…”

  “I guess. It’s kind of a problem.”

  I sighed and closed my eyes. I didn't want to hold her back in anyway.

  “I like being yours,” she said.

  “Yes, but you shouldn’t have to change what you do to be mine. You’re always mine no matter what. Unless someday you didn’t want to be. That’s the only way I’d let you go.”

  “I can’t see that ever happening,” she said.

  “I can’t see me ever wanting that either. We aren’t simple people. That comes with disadvantage but also a lot of good things.”

  In the quiet of the early hours I was thoughtful. My mind actually calmed enough to let me see beyond the buzzing.

  I felt her hand push up into my hair as she propped herself up a bit and kissed up my neck. “You’re wonderful,” she whispered, kissing me again.

  I just lay there and felt her lips on me. It was nice to take it in without feeling a rush to do anything.

  “It’s convenient that you feel that way because I think you’re even more wonderful and I’m glad you picked me.”

  “I didn’t pick anything,” she said, kissing up my jaw and breathing harder.

  “Figure of speech,” I whispered. “Semantics. Whatever you want to call it. You can keep doing that as long as you want,” I said, smiling.

  “Mmmhmm,” she hummed, finally making her way to my lips and kissing me in that agonizingly slow way that almost always felt more like a tease than a gift. She pulled away just to look down at me and see. She knew what she did, what she could do.

  When she smiled I loved it.

  “That look makes me want you more. You get all sexy and knowing because it’s obvious how much you get to me.”

  I moved my hands through her hair and brought them back to rest on her cheeks, looking in her eyes. That smile was infectious. I grinned back at her and felt this sense of wellbeing that only love could bring.

  “Sexy, huh?” She mused, her eyes lazily traveling to take me in as she crawled more ontop of me and found her comfort there. “You kinda scared me earlier,” she said, watching me. I felt her hand traveling down my side as she purposefully touched me.

  “Yes, sexy.” I blinked and didn’t try to control how it made me feel when she touched me like that.

  “What scared you? The pool?”

  “Yeah,” she scoffed lightly. “I was watching you… You weren’t there…” She laid her head down on my chest and rest in close, holding her arms in at my sides. No doubt, she was listening to my heartbeat.

  “I was trying to find myself.” It was the simple explanation for a complicated concept. “I needed to go beyond what happened to me.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, trying to find my hand with hers. “But I’m glad you came back…”

  “I never really went anywhere but in my head. It helps. You know, with the feelings. I don’t think I’ll be totally free for a long time. Sometimes I get a little cocky and I think I’m just fine and then it hits me and I remember that whatever innocence I had is gone.”

  She was quiet and still. The words scared her I think.

  “I don’t want to make you think that I’m this totally broken person but I’m still not quite there. It’s day-by-day. I feel like I wasn’t really getting that myself until last night.”

  I waited for her to say something, anything. If she didn’t then I had no idea what else to say. It would all be word vomit. Probably nothing helpful, just gibberish that I would regret later.

  “I’m confused,” she said. “I don’t expect you to just be magically healed, baby… I just don’t understand what you’re going through. I can’t understand and I want to.”

  “What I’m going through…” I fought to figure out how to tell her. There wasn’t really a way for her to get this. Trauma was something you went through or you didn’t.

  “Half the time I don’t understand it. I just feel like it comes out of nowhere. I get reminded by all these little voices that I’m not worth anything and I’m trash. I get scared and paranoid. I feel like someone’s following me or there’s something going to jump out and get me. I don’t want you to understand how that feels. It’s not something I ever want you to experience. I’m sorry that you even have to experience it second hand.”

  “When did you feel that today?” She asked. “For how long?”

  “It’s always in the back of my mind. I don’t think about it consciously all the time. I feel like a little kid afraid of the dark. Even walking outside away from the house. In the parking lot when we go anywhere. If I don’t get to sit with the wall behind me when we go out to eat. When I mess up I feel that exaggerated self-hatred. Sometimes it’s weird when people touch me if I wasn’t expecting it. People that aren’t you.”

  “I wish I was better at taking that all away,” she said defeated.

  “No one can take it away. Baby, for real. Don’t beat yourself up about this. It’s just what happens when someone goes through things like this.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to say it really. I didn’t want to name it or him right now.

  “You never know how much you help. I wish I could make you see it. I wouldn’t sleep at all. You make me feel safe.”

  She was always so damn hard on herself. This was not about her taking it away or making it better. It was about being aware and realizing that the recovery process wasn’t easy.

  “I keep having to remind myself that you’re always going through more than I can know about,” she explained. “Nothing is ever just about what’s happening in the moment. I keep having to tell myself that and slow myself down.”

  “I hate that,” I said. “If we didn’t even have to think about all of this life would be easier but it’s not and I shouldn’t even wish it. What ifs are dangero
us. Sometimes I wish you could be inside my head. There are a lot of things in there that are bad but then there are good things too like when I think about my birthday and us getting married and you in general. I want you to see how I see you.”

  “That makes me think the only good things you have of us are our fantasies.” Without meaning to I paved a path for her sadness to return.

  “Fantasies? I don’t think they’re fantasies,” I tugged her body and sat up a bit. “You’re real. When I’m feeling off, I know I can come to you and talk to you and I feel real love and light. When I kissed you in the arcade that was so real and it wasn’t just a kiss. It was a bright spot in a stupid night.”

  “Those other moments are the future though,” Olivia said. “They’re not the present or the past. They’re not yet real. A lot of times I want to be in the moment and you’re somewhere else. It frustrates me.”

  “Like the pool?”

  “Like the car… Like the cove… Like two nights ago when I was happy and all you wanted to do was go somewhere else. It happens a lot. The pool was different. At the pool you just weren’t there. Sometimes it’s like when I’m really happy you’re already thinking about the next thing that could make you happy. You’re thinking of the next thing and, in the moment, I just want more time.”

  “I didn’t know that was how you felt. I think I just get all high off of you and I do what I’ve always done when I feel happy, I go and go. I appreciate every second and it feels big and awesome and I want more and I want the world but I have to slow down. I need to stop getting carried away when you’re right here.”

  She was so still and so silent. She was probably thinking she said too much.

  “I’m slower than you,” she said. “It takes me longer to really feel things, I think…”

  “It’s funny. I think I’m slower than you because I may rush around but I miss things and I have to come back and pick up the pieces. I’m not a chill person like you. I need that. It’s my balance. I’m not present sometimes and that has to be frustrating like you said. I’ve never felt so much in my life all at one time. The most intense happy and sad moments of my life have all happened within the last two years.”

  Not even Adam’s death could top the feeling of despair that I’d felt in some of those nights with Ben. When death wasn’t bad enough to top out the list of bad things that happened to me… it was bad.

  “You want to talk about something else?” I asked, settling back down to lay with her.

  “I just don’t know what to say,” Olivia explained. “I like when you tell me things. I just don’t know what to say.”

  “That’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. You can just listen… And look all pretty. You can’t help that last part.”

  When I stumped her it was strange. I could feel her thinking and processing. I liked it in a way. I could see it all happening in front of me.

  “I love that you’re quiet. I love that you have all of these talents that aren’t typical. I love that you’re all firey.”

  “It’s not quiet in my head,” she said.

  “I know. There’s so much going on in your head that I can feel you thinking. I usually don’t know what you’re thinking but I can tell when your mind is going crazy.”

  “It’s rare I’m not thinking too much,” she went on. “Sometimes it’s too hard to pick and choose what’s right to say so I just say nothing. I get overwhelmed and it comes off as me being calm. I’m not calm. I’m heavy. I’m bogged down. People can’t see that I guess. They can’t sense it.”

  “You’re good at masking it,” I reminded. “When I first met you that’s what I thought you were. You seemed so calm, collected, and confident. Then I got to know you and you were just as messy as I am and so human and real.”

  She was quiet and thinking again. Her brows were furrowed and she processed each word I said carefully. I could see her so clearly sometimes and it gave me everything. I hated that it wasn’t all the time. She was right about that. I got caught up and I got lost. She was always there just waiting for me. It wasn’t fair. All I wanted to do was love her and sometimes I was five steps ahead.

  I touched her face, trying to smooth her brow with my fingers. She was cute when she was like this. Her eyes flicked to mine and I gave her a weak smile. She heaved a big sigh.

  “What? Did I stop the thinking train?”

  “Little bit,” she gave a little, answering me solemnly. “You’re kinda pretty,” she said, laying back ontop of me again to rest. “Ridiculously pretty,” she grumbled.

  “I feel like I’m offending you with my prettiness.”

  “You’re always offensive,” she concurred.

  “I can’t deny that. You should know though that you’re far prettier than me and way better at most things. Except swimming. I still claim swimming.”

  “You can have all the things,” she said. “But you’re prettier.”

  “Not true. Your eyes are crazy pretty and your chin is perfect. You have this little freckle on your shoulder that I like to kiss and your hair is so thick and soft. I love it.”

  “Stop saying nice things,” she said. “I don’t deserve them.”

  “I’m telling you what I think and feel and you deserve them and more. Stop. You’re gorgeous and you have great hands.” I nodded in appreciation. “Really great hands.”

  Her eyes flickered again as she stared down at my hand in hers and felt pleasure. I watched it flash through her features and she looked back up at me and we were just watching one another. It was a perfect moment.

  Eventually, my eyes drooped and I fell into a contented sleep, knowing that we were both right where we needed to be. It was dreamless and soft. When I woke it was like I’d just been in the clouds. The treehouse’s magic at work again.

  I reached out but there was no Olivia. Instead there was a note. Paper was a poor substitute but I read it anyway.

  Avery, went to that guest lecture on bio-archaeology. Tried to wake you but you were sleeping so peacefully that I just couldn’t. I’ll be back by one.

  I love you, Olivia.

  She’d told me about it last week and again a few days ago and I wanted her to go. It was one of those things she loved to do and didn’t mind doing by herself. I could hang out by the pool till she came home. I didn’t need to sleep anymore but I felt like I probably would have a nap in the shade. It would make the time pass faster.

  I thought about texting Skylar. We’d been so distant and then we spent the whole night together. I remembered that she’d gone out with Natalie.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  I hadn’t brought my phone up here. I was only worried about finding Olivia at the time. I got up and tossed the blanket away, padding over to the door and opening it. The sun blinded me for a moment but I shaded my eyes and made it down to the ground.

  The sky was beautiful and clear. The sun was high so it had to be at least mid-morning. I walked back toward the guesthouse, enjoying the cool breeze that hit me. It was a good morning for a swim.

  When I got to the guest house I went straight to the bedroom where I found another note on the vanity mirror.

  I knew you wouldn’t eat so I made you some breakfast

  and left it in the fridge.

  You just have to warm it up for a few minutes.

  I shook my head and smiled. Typical and lovely, she was still looking after me. Someone had to, I guess. She was right. I would have forgotten to eat if she hadn’t reminded me. Even if I had remembered I wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of making something.

  I went into the closet and changed into my suit, tossing my clothes in the dirty hamper. I’d eat when I got back in. I’d actually be hungry then.

  When I got outside the pool looked inviting and cool. It had gotten hot in the last week and I knew that if I laid out for awhile the water would feel even better. I looked down the property and saw the familiar colors of the mail truck pulling up to the curb just outside the main gate
.

  The main house and the guest house had different mailboxes so we always checked our own mail. I sighed and started out to get it. I’d been waiting on some paperwork from Stanford. Apparently you had to sign a form saying that you turned down living in on campus housing as a freshman and I hadn’t signed and it was a big deal.

  The truck pulled away before I got there so I had to open the box and pull the mail out. There was some science magazine that Olivia subscribed to, a package from Amazon, and a few letters. None of the letters were from Stanford but one of them caught my eye. The return address was from the jail and it was addressed to Olivia.

  I wavered. Should I open it? It wasn’t mine. Was that a betrayal? We didn’t really have secrets. I didn’t think anymore. I tore it open and I unfolded the paper. I recognized the handwriting right away and I nearly dropped it.