19. My Inner Scarlet O’Hara
MY INNER SCARLET O’HARA
OLIVIA
“I had a good day with you, Livy,” Lake says when he parks in my driveway.
I frown, because I thought we were coming home so he could tell me about his talk with his doctor. Now, it feels like our date is ending here. Maybe I don’t understand and I’m reading him wrong.
“I thought you were coming in. I mean, you mentioned us talking about today …”
“I’m not feeling good. My head is splitting. Maybe with the appointment and MRI, I overdid it. We can talk another day, I promise.”
“I’m sorry, Lake. I didn’t know you were sick. You go. We can definitely talk later,” I murmur, strangely disappointed, but more worried about him.
He grabs my hand and gives me a smile, but I can clearly see the pain that is written on his face. I give him a smile. “Do you have headache meds?” I ask.
“Colt keeps a first aid kit in the bunkhouse. I’m sure there’s some ibuprofen in it. Don’t worry,” he says.
“No, that won’t work for a bad headache. Give me a minute—”
“Livy—”
“Just one minute, please?” He studies my face, but nods okay.
I jump out of the truck and jog to my door.
I punch the key code in that’s on the lock.
Then I rush inside, leaving the door open.
I go straight to my bathroom and grab a bottle of the migraine meds I have in the vanity drawer.
On the way back to the front door, I run to the kitchen first and grab a bottle of water from the fridge.
I waste no time getting back outside to Lake.
When I reach his truck, he’s standing outside by the front fender, leaning on it slightly.
“Here,” I mutter, shoving the bottle of water into his hand.
Next, I open the lid to the meds and take two out.
“This is the migraine meds that my doctor prescribed me. I tend to get them if I’ve had a stressful day dealing with anxiety or unwanted memories.
It will help you quicker than just regular pain relievers.
” I dump the tablets in his hand. He stares down at them.
For a moment, I think he’s going to decline them, but he puts them in his mouth, takes a drink of water, and swallows them down.
“Thanks, Livy,” he whispers.
I hand him the rest of the bottle of meds. “Take these with you. They’re a better alternative than things you find in the first aid kit.”
“I don’t want to take yours. I’ll be okay,” he argues.
“I want you to have them. Besides, I have more inside. I always keep extra,” I explain.
“If you’re sure,” he hedges.
“Positive.”
“You’re truly something else, Livy,” he whispers and then he leans down.
I think he might kiss me. I’m not sure how I feel about it, but I don’t pull away.
However, Lake surprises me by placing his lips on my forehead, kissing it gently.
“Thank you for spending your evening with me. It was the best night I’ve ever had. ”
“That’s only because you can’t remember a lot of your nights,” I try to joke, my heart feeling joy and fear in equal measure.
“I don’t care what was in my past. It couldn’t hold a candle to a single day with you, Livy.”
His words do something to me that I didn’t expect. They break through some of the walls I have up around me. He’s being sincere. I can tell it and the power of that is stronger than I could explain.
“Go home and get some rest,” I tell him, my emotions a rollercoaster of feeling that I have no idea how to sort through.
He nods. He gets in his truck, and I watch as he backs away from the house, turning and then heading toward the bunkhouse. I stand there until the taillights grow dim. Only then do I finally go inside.
Once I get inside, I lock the door and head straight to my room.
My mind is in chaos. All I can think about is what he said.
A simple dinner in the diner with me, Winnie, and Blade is one he counts as his best day ever.
I should dismiss it, but I can’t. I have to acknowledge that this is the best day I’ve had since losing Bear.
I felt almost normal. I felt alive and, most of all, I didn’t want to curl in a ball and die from the suffocating loss that I’ve endured.
I flop down on the bed, wondering what in the world I’m going to do about Lake. He’s becoming important to me and it’s happened in the span of just a few days. What do I even do with that?
I need to get up and shower, but I’m just too tired.
I peel off my clothes and put on one of Bear’s T-shirts.
After doing a quick version of my nightly self-care routine, I climb into bed.
I’m just too worn out from worrying about everything.
I take one of the meds my therapist prescribed that help me sleep.
Then, I close my eyes and wait for memories of Bear to surround me and take me back to a time when I wasn’t alone.
As for everything else? I’m going to manifest my inner Scarlett O’Hara and think about everything tomorrow.
The thought makes me smile as I yawn and curl into my spare pillow, wishing—like I always do—that I was holding onto Bear instead.