Chapter 5 - Oliver
It's been a while since I've had a nightmare like yesterday's.
It's always the same nightmare: it's raining like hell—much like yesterday—and I see him laying down on the dirt, lifeless, staring at me.
It's always his eyes that do it for me: it's like they're blaming me for taking too long to get there. To protect him. To save him. And they’re right.
I'd have been there if I had followed the orders I've been given.
But no, I thought it'd be best to make sure the other guys were okay, the guys who were supposed to be in the most danger, and of course I wanted to be the fucking hero.
It disgusts me. And because of that, my best friend is dead.
Dead when we'd come back home the year after.
Regret hits me once again. He didn't deserve that, and I don't deserve to be the one who lived.
I get off the couch, trying to get my mind off things.
Actually, it's the first time I've slept after a nightmare like that.
Usually I end up going outside otherwise I'm unable to breathe, claustrophobic, trapped by my own home and thoughts. Talking with Miranda soothed me. Even though I could've hurt her, she was kind. My nightmares are less violent now, but the thought of hurting her… that's why I need to keep my distance so I never get the chance to hurt her. I can tell she's already been through too much. She’s so young and already so distrustful of others. What I find so…unnerving, curious, wonderful is how there’s still so much sunshine left in her. Despite everything, she’s chosen to see what’s beautiful in the world.
Not letting it affect her or make her bitter like it has me.
Stupidly, I blurted out I thought she was beautiful, and she told me no one had ever told her that.
How could she have spent her entire life without hearing it?
When she's so fucking perfect? It made me see red.
To think a woman like her never got taken care of.
And it makes me want to be the one to take care of her.
You? Take care of her? Who the hell do you think you are?
I know. I'm no good for her. She's too perfect. Too young.
But I'd be lying if I said this woman didn't bring out the ugliest, most possessive parts of me. I don't want to care about deserving her. Or if she's the right age for me. I want her. Plain and simple.
It's dangerous.
I need to get her out of this cabin before I do something stupid.
I make a call, hoping there’s some kind of news about the power coming back.
It's still raining, but not as much as yesterday.
Still no word on when it'll be fixed, big surprise there.
Rain's lighter today, at least. I hang up when I see her.
She looks even more beautiful with the morning light shining on her wavy black hair and her jeans hugging her curvy hips.
And she's smiling. I got a glimpse of it last night, but it's something else when it's a full-on grin.
What did I do to deserve to be greeted with such a smile?
I don't deserve it. But I accept it, I take it in.
I memorize it. I notice each crease formed around her eyes, her lips forming a big yet still shy smile.
“Mornin” she says. I ask myself if it'd be that bad to be a selfish bastard and never allow her to ever leave.
Yes, it is.
“Morning. The power company doesn't know when the power will be back.”
I point to the bread and the spreads, letting her know she can grab anything she wants.
“Is it okay if we've some meals together? I'll stay the rest of the day in my cabin.”
“No,” I reply quickly. She just presented an opportunity to be away from my home and I’m denying it.
“I told you, you could stay. You already brought everything with you.” I pause and then add, “it just makes sense.”
“But I need to paint! This was supposed to be my painting retreat. I’ve got a few pieces I have to work on.”
“You can paint here.”
She looks down, her cheeks flushed, too embarrassed for me not to get curious.
“Why don’t you want to paint here?”
“I work best alone. Without anyone looking over my shoulder,” she says with a defiant look in her eyes. I bite my lip so I don’t smile, I already love to see her riled up like this. Maybe it’s my favorite thing about her so far.
“Don’t worry. I won’t be here. You can paint in the bedroom, you’ll have more privacy there. I’ll just come back at lunch to cook for us and at night. You’ll have the cabin all to yourself.”
“I don't need power during the day. I'll just leave. My materials are all still there anyway.”
She’s giving you everything you want: time away from her.
“Fine. But I'll light up the fireplace.”
“Good. Because I’ve never done it before.”
“You haven’t?”
“Not really. It's warmer where I come from, there’s no need for a fireplace.”
“How would you light it up if you were alone?”
“I didn't think it'd be this cold. But I’d figure it out, eventually.”
"I'm sure you would." She has that spark, the one that tells me she’ll fight to get what she wants, no matter the challenges.
"Although I have to say, that could be in the cabin's instruction manual."
I eye her, trying to understand what she means.
“You know, like when you go to a hotel and there's a set of instructions to follow. There should be one in the cabin as well.”
“I don't think Aiden would think of that. But I’ll tell him next time I see him.”
“Do you know the owner of the cabin?”
“Yes. We hardly talk because we prefer to keep to ourselves but he’s a nice guy.”
“Oh that explains it. I didn't meet up with him, I just picked up the keys from Happy Place .”
“That sounds like him.”
“That sounds like you.”
My right lip doesn't resist curling up. I really need to stay away from this woman.
“Let’s teach you how to light that fireplace,” I say as I turn away. I really can’t be ogling her like an idiot.