Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
It’s an apology for everything I’ve done.
A confession of how I feel about her.
And a promise to come back.
I walk slowly up the steps, my confidence slipping as I get closer. I don't know that she'll want me, but I have to tell her everything.
I hear her small voice as I come up to the front porch.
There’s a porch swing and a huge window behind it. The window's open, and the thin curtains don’t do anything to obstruct my view. I can see right inside. My eyes focus on her.
The beast that’s been pacing inside of me since the hearing settles when I see her, my angel. She has a way about her that does that to me. She tames and calms me.
She looks beautiful in simple grey sweats and a pale pink tank top. Her ankles are crossed as she sits at a dining room table. Her hair’s in a loose bun on top of her head.
She looks so relaxed and at home. She looks… normal. My heart speeds up as she turns to the window. I move out of sight as fast as I can, afraid she saw me. But she doesn’t say anything.
“It’s going to be alright, Olivia. We’re here to help you,” a woman’s voice says. That must be her mother.
Olivia clears her throat as I peek back inside. I finally get a look at her face. She’s so sad. She has bags under her eyes, and her lips are turned down. She’s not okay.
“You don’t understand,” she says quietly.
“Well, tell me then. Please.” Her mother’s voice cracks and she sniffles, picking up a napkin to wipe under her eyes. My heart shatters in my chest. I'm feeling like a million splinters are stabbing me in every direction. This is my fault.
“You don’t tell any of us anything.” Her father’s voice is hard.
“Harold, stop it,” her mother snaps. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”
Olivia’s quiet. She doesn’t respond. She sets her fork down and pushes the plate away.
“You need to eat, baby.” Her father’s voice is low and non-threatening.
They care about her. They’re trying to help her. They’re going to heal her when I can’t.
Heal her pain that I caused.
I close my eyes and clench my fists.
What the fuck am I even doing here? I did this to her.
I crumple the note in my pocket and lower my head. I watch my feet move as I walk through the yard and down the empty street. There aren’t any street lights. It’s dark and lonely. It’s what I deserve.
She deserves so much more than me. She deserves the life she would’ve had without me.
It’s wrong of me to even ask for forgiveness.
I was in too deep. I refused to leave when I should have.
I'll do what I should have done from the beginning. I'll leave her alone. She's better off without me.
Olivia
Three years later…
I can’t stop smiling. I rock back and forth on my heels on the stage as the crowd claps and cheers. I hold my diploma tighter, feeling nearly unstoppable.
I have my degree in business and a dream job at a winery that I’ll hopefully be able to take over soon. I can’t believe how quickly life has changed for me.
I look out into the crowd, but no one’s there for me right now. My parents’ flight is delayed, and I haven’t talked to Cheryl since I moved all the way out to California. Well, not like we used to. In all honesty, none of them ever understood why I felt that way about Kade. They never will, and that’s okay.
“Are you ready?” Gwen squeals in my ear as we walk off the stage.
“Fuck yeah I am.” I smile back at her and start to feel the excitement of being free from school. I’ve buried myself in work since I’ve started this journey of recovery. Inwardly I roll my eyes.
My heart was broken. It was shattered. But I’m okay now. I still miss him though. I can’t help that. Some things stick with us forever, and Kade and our time together is something I’m choosing not to let go of. I know he’s gone. He never loved me like I loved him. If he did, he never told me. I still dream that he did. Sometimes I remember his touch and I question whether or not I'm exaggerating it.
“Are you actually going to try to score tonight?” Gwen grips my hand and pulls me through the crowd. As if by the time we get to the parking lot it’s not going to be packed. There are hundreds of cars out there, I don’t see the point in rushing just to sit in traffic, but whatever floats her boat I guess.
“One sec,” I say and pull back on her hand so I can slip off my heels. She scrunches her nose and I respond by sticking my tongue out.