by Serena Grey
Abruptly, I get up from the seat. “It’s late.” I say, “I should go inside.”
Immediately, he’s standing too, towering over me. We were sitting close, and now we’re standing even closer. My eyes are level with the top of his chest, and I can feel the soft tickle of his breath on my forehead. Suddenly, I can't move anymore, my legs feel too weak.
He reaches out and places a finger under my chin, lifting my face up to look at him. I tremble even at the small touch, and I can see the gleam in his eyes that tells me he noticed.
“You shouldn’t have come back, Olivia,” he says, the softness of the words, doing nothing to temper the threat in them.
I don’t argue, even I know that I shouldn’t have come back, not when he can still make me feel like this.
“Well, hopefully I won’t be here for long.” That’s the reply on my lips, but he doesn’t let me say the words, as soon as I open my mouth, he leans forward and covers my lips with his.
I can’t think. I can’t feel anything apart from the touch of his lips as they claim mine, and the hardness of his body against my own. My nose fills with his scent even as my skin responds to his touch. Soon it feels as if all my senses have been possessed by him.
I don’t want this, I think desperately. I don’t want this unbearable pleasure, the fluttering in my stomach, the warm pulsing heat in my core. I don’t want to feel this insane desire to reach out and run my fingers over his chest, to lose myself in his kiss. I don’t want to still be in love with him.
It takes all my self-control and willpower, but I brace my hands on his chest and push off from him, stepping as far away from him as I can.
“It must be really bad if your charms didn’t work on Lindsay and you have to settle for me tonight.” I say caustically. My chest is heaving, and my lips are tingling sweetly, desperate for more, but I’d rather die than let him know that.
He’s also breathing deeply, but at my words, he laughs. “You know better than to doubt my charms, Olivia”
I do, but I’d rather not dwell on that. I close my eyes against the unwanted memories. “Goodnight Jackson.” I say, walking away from him. "I’m going to bed.”
He doesn’t make any move to stop me, and as I walk towards the house, I can feel his eyes on my back, and taste the sweetness of his kiss lingering on my lips.
Chapter Thirteen
AFTER a night spent tossing and turning, I’m up early the next morning. I take a shower and dress simply in dark pants and a cream top, securing my hair in a ponytail. Downstairs, I follow the familiar smell of brewing coffee to the breakfast room, a large, airy room close to the kitchens where until noon, there’s always coffee, eggs, and toast.
Neither Constance nor Mrs. Shannon are anywhere to be found, but Nick is at the table, staring morosely into the steaming mug of coffee in front of him. Carl is wolfing down a plate of bacon and eggs, while Elaine is at the end of the table, typing into her tiny laptop. Jackson isn’t anywhere in the room, so I release the breath I hadn’t known I was holding, and join them.
“Good morning,” I say to everyone and no one in particular.
“Good morning.” Carl says with his mouth full. Elaine raises a hand in a halfhearted wave and Nick just grunts. What a cheerful bunch! I think, pouring myself some coffee from the pot and watching as Nick takes a sip of his. Before the mug is half-empty, he'll be fully awake and his tyranny will no doubt begin.
“What happened to you last night?” Elaine says suddenly, looking up from her typing. “You disappeared right after dinner."
“Yeah, I went for a walk in the garden, then upstairs to bed.”
“Oh.” She gives me a suspicious look. “Well I and Nick did some planning for the article. He has a list of the pictures he wants."
I look towards Nick. His mug is still almost full. “Nick? Do you want to let me know what you want so I can start working on it?”
“Yes,” He groans, “just let me wake up first.”
I hide a smile behind my mug. “I thought Jackson was going to show you guys the original plans of the house today.” I ask Elaine.
“Oh, that.” Her hair swings as she shakes her head. “We had to take a rain check. He’s left, gone back to the city.”
“Oh.” The small exclamation escapes me. He had gone back to the city. I feel a mixture of relief and disappointment. I had prepared myself for days of him being around, and now he was just gone. What an anticlimax. And proof that my presence here means nothing to him.
Well, his absence means nothing to me, I decide resolutely. He is nothing to me really, just some guy I loved a long time ago. Relationships end and people who love each other sometimes grow out of it, as we would have grown out of our feelings too, in time. Then this sense of an unresolved affair wouldn’t be part of my life.
Still I can’t help asking myself why he came at all. Was it just to see what the years without him had done to me, or to test me, and see if he could still take advantage of my attraction to him. Well, I had survived the years without him, and hopefully, I’d convinced him that physically, he was nothing to me. So there was nothing left for him at Halcyon if I had been the reason he came in the first place.
“Constance will be showing us the plans and the sculptures in the garden.” Elaine continues, just then she looks towards the door. “Oh, here she is. Good morning Constance."
“Good morning.” Constance walks into the room and stops at the table. “I hope you have everything you need.”
“Yes, thank you.” Nick puts aside his morning bad humor to reply.
She turns to me. “Jackson’s left.” Her eyes are searching my face, almost as if she thinks I had something to do with his leaving.
“I heard.” I reply, giving nothing away.
She sighs. “Oh well. Enjoy your work.”
As I predicted, as soon as Nick has taken a significant amount of coffee, he’s wide awake and itching to get as much work done as fast as possible. Immediately after breakfast, we start working. Nick is in his element, aside from developing a storyboard that follows the history of the house from its design to the inhabitants through the years, and to the present day; he has also drawn up a list of all the scenes that will go with the story.
We discuss the article and exchange ideas, while I schedule the pictures over the next few days according to the time of day I think would fit the scenery best. I spend the rest of the day taking most of the external pictures, taking advantage of the good weather.
Every morning, I meet with Nick and Elaine after breakfast, and afterwards, when they go to talk to Constance or look through old family history, I start to work, usually right through lunch, and sometimes almost to dinnertime. Taking pictures for me has always been a solitary affair, and it keeps my mind occupied. Keeping my mind on my work helps to keep it off Jackson, and the less I think of him, the better.
Thankfully, nobody else brings him up for conversation. So while I work, I can almost pretend as if that first day didn’t really happen. I can wake up, take my pictures, go to bed, and look forward to returning to my normal life without having to acknowledge how affected I was by seeing Jackson again.
“You know, sometimes in situations like this, you end up asking yourself what you ever saw in him.” May’s voice is contemplative on the phone. "You spend years thinking you never got over them, and then one meeting and you realize the feelings are all gone.
I think of the feeling of Jackson’s lips on mine, the way his hands had burned my skin where he touched me. I’d wanted more than that kiss. I’d wanted to rekindle all the memories of what I knew he could do to my body. But that was only physical, I tell myself. It didn’t mean I still had any feelings for him.
“You’re right,” I reply. I’ve just taken a shower after a hard day spent photographing the gardens, first in the early morning light, and then in the afternoon, and much later in the early evening light. I’d returned to my room exhausted and grimy. I almost fell asleep in the shower, and righ
t now May’s voice on the phone is the only thing keeping me awake. I’m even contemplating skipping dinner and just sleeping until morning.
“So do you think you’ve gotten over him?”
I sigh. “I don’t know. Seeing him again, it made me start to think of what I used to dream our lives would be like.”
“Do you still find him attractive?”
I laugh bitterly. “Physically? Of course. I’d have to be blind and deaf not to find him attractive.”
I hear her chuckle. “Yeah, he was always hot as hell.”
“Still is.”
“Maybe you should sleep with him,” She suggests. “Fuck him all night and get it out of your system.”
“I’m sure it will take more than one night to get Jackson out of my system.”
“Well then, as many nights as it takes, at least you’ll be having fun.”
And after that? What if I can’t get him out of my system? What then? Another few years of longing, of wanting something I can’t have? “Too late May, He's gone back to the New York.”
“Then when he returns, make him give you a few orgasms, for my sake.” She laughs. “Seriously, you wouldn’t believe how horny being pregnant makes me. Chace is beginning to avoid me. That’s how insatiable I’ve become.”
“Eeeew!” I laugh. “TMI, May, I don’t want to know."
I’m still laughing when I hear the soft knock on the door. My first thought is that it’s Jackson, and after a few moments of panic, and wondering how quickly I can change out of my thigh length t-shirt into something decent, I realize that Jackson would never knock. He would just walk in as if he owned the place, and whoever was in it, in this case, me.
“Who is it?” I call out.
The door opens a crack, and a familiar blonde head appears.
“Livvie?” Her voice is hesitant.
“Blythe?” I frown. I had known that she might come, but seeing her so suddenly, for the first time in so many years, it still surprises me.
The door opens fully and she enters the room. She looks almost the same, except that now some of her care-free air has been replaced with a Constance-like softness and serenity. Her hair is in a clip at her nape, and her pale blue dress is simple, but stylish and tasteful.
She smiles. “I hope you don’t mind, but I couldn’t wait for you to come downstairs.”
“I… no of course not.” I’m still standing in the middle of my room. I should be more welcoming, but I can’t help feeling hesitant, after all, I haven’t seen her in years. It feels odd that someone I used to be so close to is now practically a stranger.
“I can’t believe how long it’s been.” She says. "How are you? You look wonderful.” She’s still smiling, but I can sense that she’s waiting for me to put her at ease, to show that I still don’t resent her for what happened seven years ago.
“You look great too.” I smile back and move towards her so we can exchange a quick hug.
“When Aunt Constance told me you were going to be here photographing the house, I thought it was so apt, considering how much you always loved it. She said she would be here to make sure everything was in order, and I thought that perhaps I should drop by while you’re here. How's it been?”
I shrug and go to sit on the bed. “Okay. I’ve mostly been working.”
“Yes.” She pauses. “Jackson was here.”
I nod, wondering why she’s bringing him up, but her face gives nothing away. “Mrs. Shannon said he hardly ever comes here anymore.”
“No, he doesn’t.” She moves to the window, staring down at the front of the house. “I’ve missed this place. “ She sighs. “Sometimes I forget what it’s like, and I start to think I’m in love with life in the city, and then I come back, and it’s like I’m really home.”
I think I know what she means. Halcyon is the home of her childhood and her memories.
“Jackson wasn’t interested in the article until Aunt Constance mentioned that you would be here to do the pictures.” She turns back to face me. "He came here to see you.”
I put on my best expression of incredulity. “Why would he do that?”
Blythe rolls her eyes in a gesture that’s so out of keeping with her elegant appearance that I almost laugh. “You don’t have to pretend with me Livvie." She sighs. “At first I was so angry at you, I didn’t stop to think. And even when Carter told me the truth, I was too angry with him, to wonder why Lindsay did it. But when I started to think about it, it was clear that was never about me, or Carter, It was always about you and Jackson.”
When I don’t say anything, she continues. “I tried to ask him, but he wouldn’t even talk about you.” She shakes her head. “Like the sound of your name was an insult. When in the months that followed, he wouldn’t even come here at all, I knew for sure, even if I didn’t have any proof.” She pauses “I was right, wasn’t I? There was something going on between you and Jackson.”
I shrug. “It was a long time ago Blythe.”
“Not long enough,” She says, coming to sit beside me on the bed, “If you’re the only thing that could make him come back here.”
“Not for long though.” I reply drily, “He was only here for a day.
She chuckles. “He’ll be back before you leave, I’m sure.”
“I hope not.” I look at her squarely. “I don’t know what you're thinking, but I don’t want to relive any aspect of the past. I just want to do my job and go home.”
“Oh.” She looks disappointed. “Oh okay. I just… I hoped ……”
“That there was some romantic happy ending on the way?”
“Well, you deserve it, after everything.”
“Life doesn’t work that way.”
She sighs. “I’m so sorry Livvie, for everything.”
It’s not the first time she’s apologizing. When I left Halcyon the first time and moved to Chace’s new apartment in the city, she'd come to see me, sorry for the way she’d reacted, the things she’s said, and hopeful that I wouldn’t hold it against her. I told her not to worry, but forgiving her, and becoming best friends again as if nothing had happened were two different things, especially when every day I had to deal with the pain that only I knew I was bearing, the pain of losing the man I thought was the love of my life.
“It’s okay,” I reply. “Really.”
“There’s so much I didn’t know then, and I was so in love with Carter, I never stopped to ask you if what he said was true.”
“Blythe, it doesn’t matter.”
“No, it does.” She swallows. “I was arrogant, and the idea that you would be even a little jealous of me, enough to try to take something of mine, was easy to believe. I'd convinced myself that I thought of you as an equal, but deep down I still felt superior because I was Blythe Lockewood.” She shakes her head.
I smile. “Don’t over think it, Blythe. It was ages ago.”
She draws in a long breath. “Well, let me leave you to get ready for dinner.”
“Yeah,” I pause. “What about Carter? Constance told me that you…”
“Broke up with him? I did. I loved him Livvie, but I just had to accept that I deserved better than the guy he was that night.”
I don’t say anything, so she continues. “He’s a coach at the rehab place he went seven years ago. He’ll probably never leave.” She sighs. “I’m glad he found his place, as I found mine, running my business and all that.”
So we all found our place, I think soberly. Only sometimes, I still feel like I’m floating around, looking for a place to anchor, and knowing that there’s only one place for me, and only one person I want to be with.
I can’t keep thinking like that if I want to convince myself that I’ve gotten over Jackson, so I shake the thought from my head. “I'll meet you downstairs.” I tell Blythe.
She nods. “It was nice to see you Livvie.”
“You too, Blythe.”
Chapter Fourteen
ALTHOUGH I like to work in the privacy of
my room, sometimes, after walking around the house and grounds taking pictures, I go to the library to work on developing some of the digital shots. The floor to ceiling bookshelves are stacked with thousands of books, many of which I spent my teenage years reading.
I love working with cameras, bur I relish the part where I embellish beautiful images with magical software, to add the little things that take a scene from beautiful to incredible. I’m so engrossed in what I’m doing that I don’t hear the door to the library opening.
“Hey you,” Nick’s voice interrupts my work. He’s standing by the door, looking every inch the modern metro-sexual male in gray pants and a cream shirt.
“Hey you too,” I turn back to my work. We’re almost done, and in two days, we’ll all leave Halcyon. I can’t wait to leave, not because I’ve not enjoyed being around Constance or Blythe, or Mrs. Shannon, which I have, but because, the sooner I’m done and gone, the sooner I’ll stop worrying about Jackson coming back to disturb my feelings again.
“Elaine’s come up with a fantastic first draft,” He says. “Reads like a good novel, which is what Grace wanted.” He sighs. “God knows another academic sounding book on architectural styles would have bored me to death.”
“I’m looking forward to reading it.”
He shrugs. “You should. By the way, did you know the Lockewoods gave an engagement party for a minor European royal in the twenties and the next day the fiancée eloped with the younger son?”
“Guy Lockewood.” I smile. “He was a pilot, riding on the glories from being a flyboy in the war. Fortunately, it didn’t cause another battle of Troy. She came to her senses and went back to her fiancé.”
Nick looks at me intently. “I forget you know all about the family history. You did grow up here after all. I still can’t believe you never mentioned that. It rankles.”
“You’ll get over it.” I laugh. “Seriously, it's just not something I talk about that much.”
“I get that,” he laughs. “Though I’ll be more likely to forgive you if you promise to tell Blythe all the wonderful things you know about me.”
