Closer to the Edge
Page 32
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ALL SHE’S DONE is apologize since I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up out of the water, carrying her to the edge of the pool and pulling myself out before bundling her in a towel and taking her back to the house to dry off. My heart soared when I heard the word “pregnant” and immediately plummeted when she sunk under the water. The implication of the word was hit me like a tree trunk to the chest. The fact that I’m standing in the middle of our old living room right now and there isn’t one thing lying around that indicates a baby lives here means that something happened. Something that broke her far worse than my leaving ever did.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers again, holding a towel around her after having stripped out of her wet underwear.
She managed to scrounge up an old t-shirt and a pair of boxers that I didn’t take with me when I left because she used to sleep in them. I didn’t think to dig through her drawers when I packed up all of my shit and left her alone.
I left her alone when she was pregnant. With my child. Pregnant and alone to deal with that shit when I should have been there, holding her hand, kissing her stomach and promising her and my child the world.
“Liv, it’s not your fault,” I whisper right back, crossing the room and pulling her into my arms.
She struggles for a minute, trying to push me away, but fuck that. I hold on tighter, kiss the top of her head and whisper my own apologies in her ear.
She sobs against my chest and it rips me in half. In the two years we were together, I’d never seen Olivia cry. Not once. She’d get a little teary-eyed when we watched a sad movie or when she talked about a patient who was slipping away, but she would always hold it together. She was a solid rock of strength, hardened by her childhood and honed by her experiences as a nurse. I remember Garrett, Brady and Austin talking about how all their woman had to do was shed a few tears and they instantly turned to jelly, giving them anything they asked so long as they didn’t have to deal with the tears. I teased them about it, calling them the biggest bunch of pussies in the world. Looks like the tables have been turned. I know exactly what they meant now. I would give anything, ANYTHING to take this pain away from Olivia.
“It’s my fault,” she whimpers against my chest.
I can feel her tears soaking through my shirt as I rock us gently back and forth. She wraps both of her arms around my waist and clutches the back of my shirt in her hands.
I want to ask so many things. When did she find out? What happened? Did my leaving cause her to lose the baby? I want to ask, but I don’t. I’ve hurt her enough and I’m not going to press her for answers she’s not ready to give. I have no right to any of the pain she’s feeling because I left her to handle it all on her own.
“I was barely eating, barely sleeping on top of throwing up every day. I didn’t take care of myself, I worked too hard… Oh, God, I just wanted you there so much. I didn’t want to do it on my own.”
Her body is shaking with the force of her sobs and there’s nothing I can do. Nothing I can say will make this better. I can’t stand to listen to her take the blame for this. Whatever happened could never have been her fault. We talked about having kids all the time. Our childhoods were fucked up in different ways, but it never swayed our decision on having a family of our own. We wanted to do everything different with our own kids. We vowed to make sure they knew they were loved every single day and we promised to support them no matter what kind of decisions they made. The first time she held Garrett and Parker’s daughter Annie, I watched her face light up with an excitement and wonder I’d never seen before. I could only imagine what it would be like to one day see her holding our own child.
Reaching between us, I grab onto her face and pull it away from my chest. I stare into her eyes, overflowing with tears and watch them drip down her cheeks and drop off of her chin.
“You listen to me right now. It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault,” I tell her with every ounce of conviction inside me. “If you want to blame someone, blame ME. I’m the one who left you alone to deal with this. I’m the one who never gave a second thought to anything or anyone but my own need for revenge when I left. I love you so much, Olivia, you have no idea.”
Her cries quiet as I lean down and kiss each tear off of her cheek before my lips make their way to hers and I press them against her softly. She unclenches her fists from the back of my shirt and flattens her palms, pressing them against my lower back and pulling me in closer. I can feel every inch of her body through the towel and, as much as I don’t want to get a fucking hard-on right now, it’s impossible when I’m this close to her.
I pull my mouth away from her and rest my forehead against hers, trying to calm my dick down. She needs comfort, not a horny asshole.
“I’m so tired of being angry. I’m so tired of being alone and empty,” she whispers.
“You’re not alone anymore. I will never, EVER leave you alone again.”
She tilts her face up to me and searches my own face for the truth. I’m done hiding things from her. My past, my love, my future—it’s all hers, if she wants it. It will always be hers.
“You took everything from me when you left and then your family kicked me when I was down. I want to hate you so much, but I can’t. Why the hell can’t I hate you?” she cries angrily.
“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”
My words are ragged and my voice is thick with emotion. I continue repeating these useless fucking words of apology over and over until my voice finally cracks. She cuts me off as I swallow past the lump in my throat and try to continue. Her hands move away from my back, sliding around to grab onto the front of my shirt, yanking me against her and slamming her lips into mine. The kiss is nothing like the one we shared in the pool. It’s full of anger and regret, her mouth moving against mine forcefully, almost painfully. I let her take what she wants. I feel her bite down on my lower lip so hard I’m sure she’s drawn blood and I welcome it. I welcome the pain and the resentment that screams through her body and into mine.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers again, holding a towel around her after having stripped out of her wet underwear.
She managed to scrounge up an old t-shirt and a pair of boxers that I didn’t take with me when I left because she used to sleep in them. I didn’t think to dig through her drawers when I packed up all of my shit and left her alone.
I left her alone when she was pregnant. With my child. Pregnant and alone to deal with that shit when I should have been there, holding her hand, kissing her stomach and promising her and my child the world.
“Liv, it’s not your fault,” I whisper right back, crossing the room and pulling her into my arms.
She struggles for a minute, trying to push me away, but fuck that. I hold on tighter, kiss the top of her head and whisper my own apologies in her ear.
She sobs against my chest and it rips me in half. In the two years we were together, I’d never seen Olivia cry. Not once. She’d get a little teary-eyed when we watched a sad movie or when she talked about a patient who was slipping away, but she would always hold it together. She was a solid rock of strength, hardened by her childhood and honed by her experiences as a nurse. I remember Garrett, Brady and Austin talking about how all their woman had to do was shed a few tears and they instantly turned to jelly, giving them anything they asked so long as they didn’t have to deal with the tears. I teased them about it, calling them the biggest bunch of pussies in the world. Looks like the tables have been turned. I know exactly what they meant now. I would give anything, ANYTHING to take this pain away from Olivia.
“It’s my fault,” she whimpers against my chest.
I can feel her tears soaking through my shirt as I rock us gently back and forth. She wraps both of her arms around my waist and clutches the back of my shirt in her hands.
I want to ask so many things. When did she find out? What happened? Did my leaving cause her to lose the baby? I want to ask, but I don’t. I’ve hurt her enough and I’m not going to press her for answers she’s not ready to give. I have no right to any of the pain she’s feeling because I left her to handle it all on her own.
“I was barely eating, barely sleeping on top of throwing up every day. I didn’t take care of myself, I worked too hard… Oh, God, I just wanted you there so much. I didn’t want to do it on my own.”
Her body is shaking with the force of her sobs and there’s nothing I can do. Nothing I can say will make this better. I can’t stand to listen to her take the blame for this. Whatever happened could never have been her fault. We talked about having kids all the time. Our childhoods were fucked up in different ways, but it never swayed our decision on having a family of our own. We wanted to do everything different with our own kids. We vowed to make sure they knew they were loved every single day and we promised to support them no matter what kind of decisions they made. The first time she held Garrett and Parker’s daughter Annie, I watched her face light up with an excitement and wonder I’d never seen before. I could only imagine what it would be like to one day see her holding our own child.
Reaching between us, I grab onto her face and pull it away from my chest. I stare into her eyes, overflowing with tears and watch them drip down her cheeks and drop off of her chin.
“You listen to me right now. It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault,” I tell her with every ounce of conviction inside me. “If you want to blame someone, blame ME. I’m the one who left you alone to deal with this. I’m the one who never gave a second thought to anything or anyone but my own need for revenge when I left. I love you so much, Olivia, you have no idea.”
Her cries quiet as I lean down and kiss each tear off of her cheek before my lips make their way to hers and I press them against her softly. She unclenches her fists from the back of my shirt and flattens her palms, pressing them against my lower back and pulling me in closer. I can feel every inch of her body through the towel and, as much as I don’t want to get a fucking hard-on right now, it’s impossible when I’m this close to her.
I pull my mouth away from her and rest my forehead against hers, trying to calm my dick down. She needs comfort, not a horny asshole.
“I’m so tired of being angry. I’m so tired of being alone and empty,” she whispers.
“You’re not alone anymore. I will never, EVER leave you alone again.”
She tilts her face up to me and searches my own face for the truth. I’m done hiding things from her. My past, my love, my future—it’s all hers, if she wants it. It will always be hers.
“You took everything from me when you left and then your family kicked me when I was down. I want to hate you so much, but I can’t. Why the hell can’t I hate you?” she cries angrily.
“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”
My words are ragged and my voice is thick with emotion. I continue repeating these useless fucking words of apology over and over until my voice finally cracks. She cuts me off as I swallow past the lump in my throat and try to continue. Her hands move away from my back, sliding around to grab onto the front of my shirt, yanking me against her and slamming her lips into mine. The kiss is nothing like the one we shared in the pool. It’s full of anger and regret, her mouth moving against mine forcefully, almost painfully. I let her take what she wants. I feel her bite down on my lower lip so hard I’m sure she’s drawn blood and I welcome it. I welcome the pain and the resentment that screams through her body and into mine.
