Chapter 32
Chapter thirty-two
Olive
"There's no mistaking sex hair when I see it, Ol.
" Jenna attempts to work her magic on the mess up top of my head and make it like before, but I fear it’s no use.
Avery made damn sure it would be noticeable.
"You could’ve at least been on top for most of it," she says, taking a step back from me to see what else needs touching up.
After what that man did with his mouth and hands, I wouldn’t be surprised if my whole face needs a re-do
The thought alone makes me wish I could float above all this—just for a second—and hear what he’s thinking.
Be in his head.
It's probably quieter than mine.
"I was…for the end."
I shrug, like this is the most casual conversation in the world, and not an open conversation about sex on my wedding day.
Wedding day.
My eye twitches, and she watches me with a sadistic grin like any supportive, non-sister-sister would.
But see that’s the thing. I would never have admitted that in front of Cassandra or Lizzie. They see me as the baby of the family. The innocent, can-do-no-wrong, Olive Herring, who keeps to herself and her guitar, with her nose buried in a notebook.
And sure, that’s partly true, but I never understood how people were so comfortable talking to their family members about shit that happens in their private lives. I keep them on a need-to-know basis. My sister's don't need to know that I like to be fucked and told I’m taking it like a good girl.
That’s for me to know and nobody else—aside from Avery— to find out.
"What did I miss?" Lizzie says, her lipstick freshly re-applied, and her bronzer touched up.
I follow the path she emerged from, only to see Ryder walk out of the same bathroom, fixing his tie, zipping up his pants.
Can’t fault her for that. But again, not my business.
"A whole lot of nothing," Jenna responds, covering for me. I’m beyond grateful to have met her when I did. She gets it. But her reasons for not falling in love in the past were that she never thought of herself as lovable. She saw herself unworthy of it.
But then she met Cole, and everything changed.
Me, though? It’s not that I don’t think I deserve it. It’s more that I believe people can find happiness in all types of things. That you don’t need a person to feel fulfilled in life.
Some people’s hearts lie in the hands of somebody else. Mine belongs to music.
I never considered myself a woman who needed love from another person to determine my happiness.
I’m good with it, or without it. I’ve just never met anybody who made me want it badly enough.
But with these new rings on my finger, the whole world will know that I have a thing for bad boys, and that I’ve just voluntarily given my heart away to one for him to keep.
Because I might have a thing for my new husband.
Are these feelings floating around in my body purely a physical attraction? Or am I attracted to his kindness, too?
With adrenaline running through me, as far as I’m concerned, Avery can do whatever he wants, as long as he praises me afterwards.
I’d probably even thank him for it.
"I think we can get in one more drink before we need to head to the airport. I have work tomorrow," Lizzie reminds me.
My chest squeezes. I hate being away from them, but this is the life I chose. I need to remember the tour won’t last forever. That these moments on the road will come to an end, and I’ll miss it one day.
"Unfortunately, kindergartners don’t know what a break means." Her shoulders sag, defeat washing over her expression.
She loves her job, but she’s always so exhausted when she gets home after spending hours and hours with a bunch of five-year-old kids. Now she comes home to an empty apartment and nobody to help her unwind.
Grangewood Creek is my home. It’s where I’m safe, where I’m comfortable. But if I want to pursue this career—one that’s pulling me forward whether I’m ready or not—I need to be anywhere but. It kills me more every day.
"I’m heading back to Grangewood, too. Harley is working himself to the bone, so I’m going to keep Cass and Willow company for a couple of days.
" Jenna’s smile at me is apologetic. Even though we both know she’s going to support my big sister, she also knows I’m struggling with the distance more than I let on.
But it’s a consequence of the life I chose.
I nod. "Of course. I think I’m done with drinking for the next year, so you guys go ahead."
I give Jenna’s arm a quick squeeze in thanks for not blurting out what she figured out on her own, then let her go.
We’re all going our separate ways, but I’ll see them soon.
I have to for my sanity, at the very least.
"You ready to get out of here?" Avery whispers in my ear, his lips grazing my skin ever so slightly.
For a moment, I forget that my family is leaving.
I forget that this is all fake and allow myself to just believe it.
Because it feels nice to have somebody be here for me. Somebody who knows the darkest, most hidden parts of my soul, and he’s still here.
Still wanting to take me home.
Still wanting to make sure I’m cared for.
And it feels so nice.
"Let’s go."
"Are you okay?"
Do I have tears in my eyes that haven’t completely fallen down my cheeks?
I tilt my head up ready to ask him ‘why’, but the word doesn’t come.
"Just wanting to make sure. No symptoms? No numbness anywhere? Your legs feel okay? You haven’t got a headache?" His fingers graze the nape of my neck, even though I didn’t tell him it was a problem area for me.
It’s like he just knew. It feels like he always knows.
"You sure seem to know a lot about it." I lift a brow with an easy smile, and he kisses my temple with a soft laugh.
"That’s because I do. But I also heard you. I heard everything you told me, and heard everything you tried to say but couldn’t. I know you’re scared, Olive. I’ll be here for you in whatever way you need me to be."
"Scared of what?" Orlando says, cutting straight through the moment Avery and I were just having.
A moment I probably enjoyed too much. "You two need to head back to the hotel," he adds, already shifting into business mode.
"Olive, Josie wants me to remind you about your early soundcheck. Avery, you’ve got a game in the afternoon. "
He doesn’t acknowledge the way Avery’s arm is still draped over my shoulder, doesn’t even blink at it.
"And yes," he finishes, like it’s the final line in a checklist, "you’ll both be able to support each other. Your jobs don’t overlap."
"Let’s go, then," I say again, only lighter this time.
This time, everybody follows, and we head back to the hotel room.
***
There’s a knock on my hotel room door, and I scramble to my feet in a rush to answer it. On the way, I clip my hip on the kitchen countertop, wincing as I rub it, opening the door.
"Where’s Ryder?" I ask Avery and Orlando as they make themselves comfortable in the now-empty hotel room. The girls rushed out quickly, and I’ve been frantically trying to get my things together before I have to check out of this room and move into the one next door.
As it turns out, a bride has a lot more to pack than anybody else.
Who knew?
"He was adamant about dropping the girls off at the airport. Wanted to make sure they got there okay. At least, that’s what he said. He’s probably trying one last attempt at getting Lizzie’s number, though." Orlando rolls his eyes. "Like he has a chance."
"Lizzie is looking for a husband. A man to father her future children. No offense, but I don’t think Ryder is the type," I tell them both honestly, and while Avery nods with a knowing look, Orlando seems too preoccupied for my words to have any impact.
And when I see what he’s focused on, my stomach falls to my feet, my legs suddenly heavy.
My medication is on the counter, for everyone to see. I forgot I took it out of the fridge to pack it in my bag.
Orlando’s eyebrows pinch together as he looks from the sharps container to me, then to the medication in its box. He flicks his gaze to Avery, and finally back to me.
The three of us stand in silence, all waiting for someone else to be the first to break it.
"That’s—shit—um, it’s not what it looks like," I stammer.
My brain searches for a save, until I realize he probably thinks I’m either on something heavy, or taking medication he doesn’t recognize.
I take a breath, not knowing how this is going to play out.
Then he says, "You too, huh?"
And it suddenly all makes so much sense.
Avery’s automatic acceptance. His knowledge of it all without me saying too much. Hell, I should’ve known something was up, but I was too caught up in my own head to realize that he didn’t ask me any questions about the impacts it could have on me.
How it would and could change my life.
If it would alter my life expectancy.
Instead, he took my hand in his, and told me that nothing had changed.
He didn’t view me as fragile. He didn’t see me as broken, as something for him to fix.
No, he just..saw me, for me, and that was enough for him.
"How long have you…" I trail off, my voice suddenly lodged in the back of my throat, tears burning my cheeks as they freely fall.
I’ve cried so much in the last few days, I’m surprised my head hasn’t exploded.
"Since I was diagnosed? Six years. Since I had my last relapse? Also, six years. The two go hand in hand. Been on the same medication since I found out. Doctors consider me ‘low burden’, but I’m not stupid.
I know that might not always be the case.
I’ve stopped focusing on that and made sure to live in the now. "
"Does it get easier? The injections, I mean."
I make sure to clarify—because asking if MS gets easier is a whole other question, and I’m not ready to hear him say no.
"It’s just a part of my routine now." He shrugs.
"I lost ninety per cent of my vision when I was diagnosed, had something called Intracranial Optic Neuritis.
I was fucking terrified. The career I wanted in basketball slipped through my fingers and shattered into a million pieces.
But I got up, I pushed through. And now, this is my life.
" He gestures around the room, flashing a wide smile at Avery. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me since the moment they walked into my hotel room.
"I’m sorry, Orlando," I whisper, but he wraps his arms around my neck in a tight hug before letting me go and taking a step back.
"As much as I would love to continue this conversation, we have to check out of this room." Orlando collects the bulk of the medication, while Avery shoves the last of my things into my final remaining empty bag.