CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
Oliver watched me from the corner of his eye, absorbing my every movement with deep thought as I approached him with a tall glass of orange juice and a plate of cold meats.
There was a strange look in him I hadn’t seen before.
As I set the plate down on the table before him, he admitted a shred of his thoughts to me, whispering, “You don’t give up. ”
It wasn’t a compliment. He said it like he was stating a fact, but it left him awed. The look didn’t soften his features. If anything, his eyes narrowed on me as I placed the napkins neatly by his plate.
“That will of yours, is it inherent, or honed?”
As I thought of my response, I clasped my hands together, peering down at the table as the seconds ticked by. “Both, I think, and even then, I’ve failed you.”
“Do you think you’ll get it right in the next life?” His tone was teasing, but he still watched me, waiting for a response.
“I don’t want another life,” I honestly answered, looking at him now as my eyes pricked with tears. “I don’t want to fail you anymore, Oliver. I’m reaching a point where…I feel certain that I’ll look you in the eye and tell you quite happily that I’ve failed you for the final time.”
He took my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm before resting it on his cheek.
He shut his eyes, sighing deeply. “Of all the things you’ve ever said to me, I believe this the most. I can see it in your eyes.
” He opened his own and watched me again, his gaze sliding over every inch of me.
“Believe me, Daisy, everything I have done was born from good intentions.”
“I know that.”
He let go of my hand and began to cut into his meat.
I turned away, my eyes cutting to the sky as the sun began to set.
The trees barely moved, but when the wind came through, the leaves rustled in the gentlest way.
It sounded like a melody. I shut my eyes and stood still.
For one moment, I was the air and the wind, and the birds chirping, and the leaves singing.
I whispered, “‘For we are mistaken when we look forward to death; the major portion of death has already passed. Whatever years be behind us are in death’s hands.’”
I turned around slowly, and opened my eyes, watching Oliver take a bite and chuckle at my words.
“‘Saving Time’ is one of my favorite letters by Seneca. ‘Lay hold of to-day’s task, and you will not need to depend so much upon tomorrow’s.
While we are postponing, life speeds by.
Nothing, Lucilius, is ours, except time. ’”
He grabbed for the glass of orange juice, adding softly, “‘We were entrusted by nature with the ownership of this single thing, so fleeting and slippery that anyone who will can oust us from possession.’”
With vigor, he gulped down the orange juice and then placed the empty glass down, smiling brilliantly.
“You look victorious,” I said, tracking his every movement.
“Victory comes at a cost,” he replied, looking at me now. “I have trials to overcome. Burdens I can’t put off any longer. When we return home, there are things I need to do. Ugly things. I depend on your full support, Daisy.”
“What’s happened, Oliver?”
His stomach grumbled. He placed a hand on it and sighed. “Nothing yet, but if my bitch of a student succeeds with her meddling, if her lies are to be believed by the masses, I will be ruined.”
“Ruined?”
“If I’m quick, I can manage it before it spirals out of control.”
“What are you going to do?”
His stomach grumbled again. He pushed the plate back and re-adjusted himself on the chair. “I’m going to silence her.”
As his ominous words hung in the air, I stared at the plate, knowing it needed to be collected, but my legs didn’t move.
My attention drifted back to Oliver. I watched him for several moments, looking over his face and strong hands as he raked one of them through his short black hair.
A strange emotion flitted through me. I felt… foreign, uncertain.
I don’t think this had happened before…
I breathed slowly, absorbing the moment because…it felt unfamiliar. That wasn’t a bad thing.
“What is in that head of yours?” Oliver asked just then. I didn’t realize he’d been watching me. He gave me that look. The one that yearned to break into my head.
“I’ve been having these dreams lately,” I admitted.
His eyes were glassy when he looked back at me. “What sort of dreams?”
“I’m in this dark cave, and I’m staring at a wall.”
“Let me guess, there are shadows on the wall.”
I smiled briefly. “A force is keeping me bound there, watching the shadows move.”
He smirked. “From the very start, you’ve always been taken by Plato. I’m not surprised you’re dreaming of the Allegory of the Cave.”
“I’ve had these dreams before. But it was different this time.”
“What made it different?”
“I got out.”
His brows shot up, and now he looked intrigued. “Did you really?”
I nodded. “There were other beings in there with me, trapped like I was. Most of them didn’t have faces. But then there were others… other beings that were made out of butterflies.”
“Butterflies?” he repeated strangely.
“When the butterflies didn’t move, I could see the faces of the people in the cave with me.
” My voice tightened as I uttered, “One of them was Rowe.” Oliver’s brows pinched together, listening intently to me now.
“They eventually scattered into thousands of butterflies and flew out of the cave. I followed because…because I knew that if I didn’t follow them out, it meant they were going to die. ”
Oliver hummed softly. “The last time you had a dream like this, you wound up in this cabin.”
“I think in another life, Oliver, perhaps I didn’t end up in this cabin. Perhaps I kept my fears silent and watched my boy go.”
“It was a tragic coincidence, Daisy. Nothing more.”
I shook my head, smiling sadly. “He was a little boy in my dream, Oliver. I watched him break apart just as I touched him. I felt…a pain unlike any other. It was so real. So tangible. I can feel it now. That grief in my dream hasn’t left me.”
Oliver didn’t speak, but his thoughts fired through him. Eventually, he gave me an impatient look. “What was outside the cave? Was it Rowe?”
My body urged me to step back, but I didn’t. I was determined to remain still and look him in the eye with the bravery I knew I’d always had but never used. Fear isn’t welcome here.
“It was the other person you silenced, Oliver.”
Confusion crossed his face, and then, all at once, it faded into understanding.
I expected fury, but it wasn’t there. His face went blank.
With his layers stripped away, the man without a face of his own looked back at me.
It should have startled me, but it strangely didn’t.
“I see.” After a few more moments, he added, “You have an active imagination, Daisy.”
“Imagination?” I repeated, dryly. “You know it was more.”
He let out an empty laugh. “Do you think the spirit of Plato is communicating to you? Of all the people that have walked this earth. That have left an imprint of their genius behind. You think among them all you’re special enough? Foolish girl.”
“I’m not saying a great philosopher visited me personally.
You were very clear when you mentored me that you believed in your teachings.
In their teachings.” I smiled, and it was as empty as his laugh.
“Or was it all a lie, Oliver? Are you so doubtful that I could find the very tranquility that eludes you?”
“Tranquility? So, after seeing your dead sister and little boy in a dream, you think you’ve reached ataraxia?”
“I know what I felt.”
“Tranquility is a big word, too big for you, to toss about, Daisy.”
I raised my chin, holding his stare. “I understand the meaning well, and I stand by it.”
There was nothing in his eyes as he regarded me, like I was an adolescent child that needed a lashing. “This has been very entertaining and bold. I’m almost convinced you were hoping to die while I was gone.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I wanted to die,” I returned, calmly. “On the contrary, Oliver, I’m standing before you now, fighting for my life.”
He looked me over, inspecting me. “You’ve gone crazy. I wondered when it would happen.”
“When exactly what would happen?”
“When you would lose your mental clarity.”
“I’m thinking very clearly, Oliver.”
“Perhaps you’re trying to trigger me, but I’m not so easily ruffled today.
” He adjusted himself in his seat again, appearing slightly uncomfortable in his position.
Then he went back to observing me. “You look a little bit like a sour dream, Daisy. The way the fading sun is hitting you. Almost angel-like in your nightgown. I wish I could frame this moment. Your beauty never fails to save you.”
“If I were a little less beautiful?”
“You wouldn’t be here.”
“Wouldn’t I, though?”
He stared at me for a long moment. A thought flickered in his eyes. He smiled slowly. “In a way.”
I offered him a genuine smile this time, and I caught the way his face tightened.
I turned around, giving him my back as I surveyed the woods.
“How many of them are watching us now, do you think?” I didn’t wait for his response.
I looked into the bush. I could almost see them.
The forms standing there. Staring back at me.
Faceless and voiceless. “Are they wearing nightgowns, Oliver?”
“I’m warning you to hold your tongue. It’s just this one warning, Daisy.”
I went on like I didn’t hear him. “I don’t think they have nightgowns on. I think you were impulsive with them. I think I’m different from you because I was the perfect victim. Malleable and vulnerable and trusting. You were my whole world, but…I think I’m your whole world, too.
“You act like you’re merciful, but you wouldn’t know what to do without me. Without someone to control and manage. You’re a monster, but every monster has a weakness, and I’ve found yours, Oliver Black. And it’s me. Without me, you’re just…you.”