Chapter 37
37
Olivia
I’m not the girl I was when I got to Astor. Too much has happened, sure, but that discounts the gravity of the passage of time. It discounts the natural aging and maturation process that I’ve been afforded. Lily never got the benefit of more time. She will forever be frozen as that eighteen year old girl, walking into the first kegger of the season, her best friend on her arm and a thousand wishes in her head. I started that year in a cloud of grief, the wishes I’d made alongside her buried deep inside me.
And that’s okay, I realize. Those grief years were the time that passed. They were the years in which I aged and matured. I’m not meant to be the girl I was before my life happened to me, and while I wish beyond anything that Lily was still here with me, I don’t wish to be frozen forever as the girl I was when she was here.
I park outside the diner and watch the moonlight glisten off the lake it sits by. Saying goodbye to Lily feels like ages ago, but it was only this morning that I sat on the sand, rifling through memory after memory of my best friend, Will of all people by my side. That I waded into the ocean and released the parts of her I’d been hoarding to myself in grief.
I hadn’t realized how much I needed to see Will until he showed up on the beach. I thought that what he needed from me was to disappear, to leave him alone. To let him process the last few months alone while I just silently dealt with what he did. What I didn’t realize was that he was processing so much more than the shitty end of our relationship.
I feel relief knowing he knew we were doomed from the start. There’d always been this foreboding sense the other shoe was going to drop with Will; I assumed it was going to be an affair, or some public scandal a few years into his professional basketball career. That’d I’d be moments away from a definitive career moment, and some shitty mistake he made would fuck it up and veer us off course. I lived in fear of the moment that Will decided he wanted more out of his relationship, wanted something different from me. Everything about our relationship was charted out in my head because on paper we were so, so perfect.
When I saw Will on the beach I, for a split second, remembered how perfect it felt in the beginning. How I quickly collated a future for us and how quickly he cosigned. But then I remembered that even from that seemingly innocent first moment, it was all built on lies. I know Will didn’t mean to hurt me. I guess maybe we’re even.
A door slams to my left and I’m brought back to the parking lot of Harbor Diner. I’m bone tired after today, but there’s nothing I want more than a steaming cup of Brad’s shitty diner coffee and a slice of apple pie.
I drag myself out of the car and toward the door, stopping short when I notice a familiar head of tousled brown hair face down at the booth to the right. Brad jumps up when he sees me, flinging the door open with his megawatt smile.
“Livy!” he exclaims, pulling me in for a hug. “It’s a little late for you, no?”
I distractedly check the time, only now realizing it’s 11:15 at night.
“Lots on my mind, Brad,” I say distractedly, my gaze settling on who I’ve now realized is Ben, fast asleep at my favorite diner.
My stomach feels like it could drop or float right out of me. The doorbell chimes behind me and I watch Ben’s head groggily rise from the table, his hand rifling through his hair as he reacquaints himself with his surroundings. His book falls shut; his eyes meet mine. Even from where I’m standing, I can see the bags under his eyes, can trace the ghost of a smile on his lips as he looks at me. I feel like I’m standing on the ledge of a mountain, terrified that I could fall, shaking with anticipation, giddy fear enveloping my heart.
I realize I’ve been standing in the entryway, staring across the diner at this man, for entirely too long. I walk toward his booth, hyper aware of each stride, as he stands, his lips pressing into a line.
“Olivia,” he says, his voice full of want and desperation, as if he’s been waiting for me his whole life, not just for a few hours in this diner.
“Ben,” comes out as almost a whisper as I take him in. He’s so handsome, even in his miserable state. His hair is wild as if he’s been running his hands through it all night, his face lined with sleep from laying it on the hard diner table, and even though it's not even midnight, he has circles under his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days. He takes a step toward me and I reflexively move back. His face is wounded and I instantly feel the icy walls around my heart begin to melt.
He motions to the bench across from him.
“Can I—” he clears his throat and bites his lip nervously. “Olivia, I want to tell you everything, can you please—” He motions to the bench again, his eyes so full of desperation, waiting for me to slide in before sitting back down. He’s sitting up straight, and I can tell his hands are in his pockets. I wish they were on the table so I could hold them, ground myself with them, because I feel absolutely untethered here, like I’m shooting in the dark with no plan.
“Everything?” My voice is so quiet it’s hard to recognize and I see his features melt, like he’s taking me in for the first time. His eyes cloud with emotions and I feel so small, so fragile. Ben could break me right now, if he wanted to, and yet here I am trusting him not to, choosing not to run away.
“Everything,” he says. “It doesn’t change what I did but I at least need you to know.”
“Okay,” I tell him, taking in a shaky breath and letting it go. I’m bracing myself, petrified by the idea of finding out something new, but I trust him. I’m choosing to trust him.
“I saw you,” he starts. “That night before Lily passed, at the party at Garland House.”
My breath hitches. He’s told me this before but I didn't expect him to talk about that night, that this is where everything starts. But how could it not? He stares down at his coffee.
“Do you want a coffee?” His voice is unsteady.
“Ben—” I redirect, my eyes pleading. My mind is overwhelmed with the need to know whatever it is he’s going to tell me, the need for his reason to be enough.
“Yeah, okay. I’m sorry,” he looks past me as if he’s trying to compose himself. “When I was at Astor, I wasn’t who I am now. I was this…” he pushes his hands through his hair, “I was just someone I didn’t like. I let my emotions and the perception of others control me. I took advantage of my status and I was really shitty to… a lot of people.”
His eyes search my face for understanding. “I was basically just a version of what Will became. Maybe worse, actually.” He looks defeated, shaking his head. “I had a lot of pressure from my family and the team and I was watching Will make the same mistakes I was… it was all too much.” He pauses, taking a breath before continuing. “I started having these massive panic attacks. I couldn’t get them under control.” His eyes fall shut, his jaw clenching, and he puts his head in his hands for a moment before meeting my eyes.
“I was trying so hard to keep it together, but the thought of that next year, the thought of being captain, of being who everyone saw me as… it was suffocating me, Liv.” His voice is solemn now, the gravity of what he must’ve felt reflected in his gaze. “But then I went to that kegger. I saw you that night and… I know this is going to sound crazy or maybe pathetic, but something shifted in me. You were standing among all those people, like you knew exactly who you were and how you fit into this world.” He cocks this half smile at me and I feel my body heat. “I had never felt like that before. The pull I felt toward you, Liv, I… I can’t explain it. When I saw you, I just knew.”
“Knew what?” I dare to ask, my heart racing at the idea that this is fate. That everything I’ve felt toward Ben until this moment was inevitable.
“That you were meant for me. That I had to try to make you mine.”
I feel my blush overtake every square inch of my face, the heat on my body spreading, and it only makes him smile wider.
“You were surrounded by Lily and Will and Gen and you were just magnetic. It was like everything around you faded away and you were all I could see.” He’s looking at me with eyes full of wonder, like I’m the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen, and I feel the tears brimming at my eyes. He reaches over the booth and brushes them away. His face gets serious again.
“That night, Will was going through a lot. Lily had broken up with him and started this rumor that you two were together.” My eyes widen. I hadn’t heard this rumor, but after all the secrets I’ve learned about Lily, I know it’s probably the truth.
“Even then I knew you deserved better. Better than me, and better than Will. He got in this huge fight with Lily and he said he was going to ask you out and—” he shakes his head, pausing like he’s trying to shake the feeling of the memory away. “I couldn’t handle it. I completely lost it. I almost fought him, like I slammed him against the door and was ready to bash his face in just at the thought of him using you like that. I hadn’t even met you yet.” His face is red with embarrassment and sadness.
“I had a massive panic attack, probably the biggest one I’d had in a while, and the only thing that brought me back to reality was thinking about you. But I knew I had to leave; I couldn’t keep wearing this mask, pretending to be this person I just wasn’t. When Lily died, I saw something change in Will, too. I think that was what finally broke me. I saw him morph into the person I never wanted him to be. Someone I already was.” He gets quiet and I see his eyes wet with tears.
“Ben—” my voice breaks as my tears start falling too.
“Please, Olivia, I know I fucked up. I should have told you that first day, I should have said everything then.” He wipes his hand over his face trying to calm down and I get up to move beside him. “But the deeper it got with you… I just didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want to lose the opportunity to get to know you, to love you, to just be near you.”
His voice catches like he might start crying and I stand there in front of him as if in invitation. He pushes to stand, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in. He sinks his face into my hair and I let my body melt into him. His warmth wraps around me and I feel for the first time today like I can breathe.
“I don’t think you can lose me, Ben,” I admit, feeling an enormous weight begin to roll off my shoulders as I let myself fully give in to this. “I love you too much.”
And it’s true. Maybe we were tragic, or maybe we are fated, or maybe we’ve clawed our way to each other against the better judgment of the gods or whoever; I can’t bring myself to care. Not while knowing what I know now, and feeling how I feel despite all of it. If my heart can so eagerly leap into his hands, like it is in this moment, who am I to keep fighting it? I exhale at the thought, the sensation of giving in to this so blissfully right.
“I love you , Olivia,” he says tenderly. “I think I loved you that first night I saw you because there hasn’t been a day that’s passed that I haven’t thought about you. That I haven’t tried to be the man I think you deserve. You are every thought I think, every word I read. I am so wrapped up in the thought of you, every detail that you are, it’s impossible for me to unravel from it. Even if I could, I wouldn't want to.”
I sink further into his chest feeling like I can't hold him tightly enough.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t let you tell me sooner,” I say, feeling guilty that I denied him this opportunity while I wallowed in what I’m realizing was self-pity.
“You could’ve taken as much time as you needed. I told you I’d wait for you, Olivia,” he reminds me, earnestly.
“I thought I needed to figure this next part out alone,” I say against his chest, explaining myself.
“I hate that you thought that,” he tells me.
“I am fucked up, Ben.” My voice catches in my throat. “And you need to know that there is a lot I haven’t dealt with, and that the grief I’ve been carrying comes in waves, and that I’m not totally sure I know how to function without a very clear preconceived notion of what my life is going to look like and—” he cuts off my rambling, grabbing my hand.
“Olivia, all I want is to be in all of that, with you. To be there for you. To hold your hand while your life— our life— happens. I don’t want some fictional, finished version of you. This version of you is my fantasy. I want you now; I want you tomorrow; I want you always, anyway that you are.”
My tears cascade down my face, and he releases me slightly to look down into my eyes, his thumb swiping across my cheek bone in an effort to wipe my tears.
“Shakespeare really does have a way with words,” I deflect tearfully, overwhelmed by the way he loves me.
“Christopher Marlowe,” he corrects me, with a wink his eyes brimming too, “never had a muse like you.” I laugh a hearty, throaty laugh, any self consciousness I’d still been harboring washing away with each tear. I embrace him tighter, not wanting this moment to end.
“Don’t leave,” I say quietly, but I know he hears me because he softens, like he’s letting out a breath he’s been holding, like he thought I might push him away.
“Never,” he murmurs into my hair.
I pull back and meet his eyes. I know I’m a mess, my face streaked with tears and my hair tangled from the beach earlier, but he grins down at me with this smile only meant for me, like I’m the best thing he’s ever seen. I grin back and then he kisses me.
I feel the earth stop around us. The sounds of the diner fades out as he pulls me in harder, his hand tangling in my hair while his other pulls me in at my waist, and I realize this is the type of kiss they write songs about. It’s earth shattering, life changing. It’s the kind of kiss people have and say, “He kissed me, and I knew I would marry them.” My stomach is full of butterflies springing to life and whatever cloud had unwittingly colonized the space above me begins to dissipate, the lofty air of hope swirling around us. I feel different, so different from the girl at the beach. So different from the girl I was a few months ago. So, so different from the girl who came to Astor. I feel reborn, like my life is this beautiful landscape I get to explore. With him.
He pulls away and his eyes echo my thoughts. I know he feels it, too.
“I’ll never leave, Liv.” And then his lips press against mine, and he kisses me again.