Chapter 24 Olivia #2
“I don’t think there’s a choice,” I say quietly, looking into the darkness.
“It’s not like I’m a viable option. I’m not really here.
I mean, I’m here, but I shouldn’t be. I’m a non-person.
An anomaly. And it feels like this world is rejecting me, like a body rejects a transplanted organ.
I can’t work a real job. I can’t be a functioning member of society.
Hell, I can’t even support myself.” I give a shaky laugh.
“I can’t make new friends without having to lie about my background.
I have no one but my immediate family, and even those relationships are weird here.
I can’t get close to Dad or Charlotte, and I barely know my sweet little niece.
Mom only believes all this because she’s a Christian now, and I’m some kind of religious miracle to her.
It’s all so surface level, and strained.
” I can’t keep the frustration out of my voice.
“Yet if I move out of their pool house, I have nowhere to go, and my job at the restaurant likely won’t last long enough for me to live independently. Really, I have nothing.”
Jake scuffs the sand with his foot. “You have me.” His voice is so quiet I can barely hear him over the ocean.
“But I don’t. You’re with Savannah, Jake, and you love her. You’re not going to throw her over for me, and ask me to move in with you instead. We both know that’s not going to happen, no matter how much I might want it to. No matter how much I love you.”
Jake lifts the heel of his hand to his face, but it’s a moment before I realize he’s brushing a tear away. He turns to face me.
“I do love Savannah, you’re right. But, Liv, I loved you first. I loved you when we were kids and, after you died, I never stopped loving you, and wishing I could change what happened.
Go back and save you. And here you are, with me, right now.
Saved. Alive. Real. And more damned beautiful and incredible than I could even have imagined.
What am I supposed to do with that? Throw away this unbelievable second chance with you?
” His voice breaks at this, and his shoulders heave.
I step closer and he pulls me into a hug, his hand on the back of my head, his face against my hair.
His scent is so familiar, yet slightly different.
His tall frame is shaking, and I soothe him, rubbing his lower back, the way he’s always been soothed.
The way I comforted him when Ginny died, and at his grandmother’s funeral.
We hold each other a long time, the swell roaring in my ears as Jake’s shuddering subsides.
Finally he pulls back, examining my face as I study his. The glow of the shoreline casts a deep shadow across his eyes and strong nose, his high cheekbones starkly outlined. A glisten in the corner of his visible eye betrays the remnant of his tears.
His jaw is set firmly, but his lips look as soft as ever.
Jake leans his face closer to mine, his gaze flitting across my features, landing like a butterfly on my mouth. He inches closer still.
Is he going to kiss me?
His brow breaks into a frown, and he gives a tiny shake of his head. He drops his forehead against mine.
“This is so fucked up.”
I half-laugh, but there’s sadness there, my heart breaking.
“I know. But Jake—” I pull back. “I meant what I said. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, but I don’t work in this world.
You and I won’t work in this world. I love you, you know that.
And—” I stop him as he parts his lips to speak — “I know you love me, too. I know. But you don’t love me the same way as I do you.
No. You love me in the way you did when we were kids.
You said that yourself. You’ve never kissed me.
You’ve never slept with me. You’ve never fallen in love with me as an adult.
You’ve never committed your life to me. All of the things we’ve done in my world.
” I place my hand lightly on his chest. “You and I don’t have any of our shared history after the age of twelve that makes us .
. . us. You have that with Savannah, though. Right?”
He nods, just once.
“You told me, last time we were together, that she saved you,” I continue.
“I’m glad about that. It makes me like her.
I think there’s probably yet another world in which I also died, but you didn’t meet Savannah either, and you’re alone now.
And a billion other versions in which things are really terrible, or maybe even more great, and everything in between.
” I look out at the dark beauty of the ocean.
“But I’m glad I found you in a life where you have someone who loves you, and you live on the beach, and surf every day.
I know you have some issues to deal with, especially with your dad, and maybe some self-esteem stuff, but that’s what therapy is for.
And, in general, life is pretty good, right? ”
Jake sniffs, saying nothing. His nod is almost imperceptible.
I reach up, laying my hand on his cheek.
“Maybe I’m here so you can let me go, finally, and be happy.
To show you my death wasn’t your fault, that it was just a tiny change in circumstance that meant you were either able to pull me up the cliff, or not, that day.
Nothing to do with being a better or stronger version of yourself.
” I smile at him. “You’re already as good as any Jake in any reality.
You’re amazing. You can be a wonderful and loving partner.
Look how much love you have in you.” I lower my hand back to his heart, feeling its strong, regular rhythm.
He steps back, and rubs his face in the crook of his elbow.
“You’re right. I know you’re right. And I can change the stuff I don’t like.
” He laughs, his voice choking as he swears, “I fucking hate my job. And I’m gonna quit and do something like you were telling me, refugee advocacy or in-house counsel at a charity. Something like that.”
I laugh too, the tension between us breaking. “Good for you. You’ll love it.” I heave out a breath. “Come on. Let’s go back. It’s getting late.”
We walk back to my bike, hand in hand, saying nothing. There are no more words. He watches, as I unlock Mom’s yellow cruiser, our faces lit by the street lamp.
“Will I see you again?” he blurts out, a note of panic in his voice.
I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him lightly on the cheek.
“I’ll be around. For a while, at least.”
I smile at him as I mount my saddle, pushing off into the night before he can see my tears.