The Scars of Anatomy

31. Fight

I pace around my room, every second ticking by making me jittery, making me long for her even more. Picking up my phone, I feel a pang of hurt in my chest when I look at the screen to find no new messages and her face as my wallpaper, smiling sweetly back at me.

Fuck this.

Determination sparks inside of me, and I realize my pity party is over. If I want her, I have to fight for her.

Slipping on my jacket along with my shoes, I snatch up the keys to my bike lying on my desk—Chase drove his truck back home with him for the break—and head out to the parking lot. Putting on my helmet, I swing my leg over the motorcycle and rev the engine, racing out of the parking lot and out onto the streets.

The cold wind slaps my face and bites into my bare hands, but I ignore it, too fixated on where I'm going and what I'm about to do to care.

I pull into her subdivision, my engine rumbling loudly on the quiet suburban neighborhood streets. My heart begins to pound as I approach her house, parking my bike in front of the mailbox. I take off my helmet and get off the bike, staring at her front door that's illuminated by the porch light. I glance to the left, into the living room windows to see the lights on behind the curtains, it only being a little past 7:00 p.m.

With a shaky breath, I walk up her driveway to the front door. To my own surprise, running purely on adrenaline, I knock without hesitance, not pausing to fully collect or mentally prepare myself.

I shift my weight anxiously from foot to foot, waiting for her to answer the door. Shoving my cold hands into the pockets of my jeans, I stand off to the side of the door so she can't peek out through any of the windows to see me and dodge me.

After a few long, very long, moments, I hear the knob rattle and the front door open. I sidestep in front of the door to find Mr. McCausland staring back at me. His face shows his surprise to find me on his doorstep this late in the evening, unannounced, but nonetheless, he smiles, his eyes sparkling with fondness. "Hey, Bronx. What brings you here?"

He steps back from the door frame, his body language welcoming and clearly relaxed with me being here, which I'm thankful for. I guess Olivia hasn't filled her parents in on our recent downfall, because I have a feeling if she did, there wouldn't be this kind of pleasantries.

Mr. McCausland isn't the type of man to threaten my life with a shotgun if I dare to hurt his daughter, but he wouldn't be pleasant, either. Rightfully so, there would be some sort of resentment, hostility, there.

I clear my throat. "Hi, sir. Is Olivia home?"

His lips turn down into a remorseful frown. "Sorry, son. You just missed her."

My shoulders deflate. "Do you know where she went?" I ask, hoping I don't sound too desperate.

"She's going over to Miss Cora's for dinner tonight."

I blink, trying to wrack my brain for what day it is. "But it's Wednesday."

Olivia's weekly dinners with Cora are always on Tuesdays.

He gives me a small smile. "They switched up nights so you guys could study last night for your final."

My heart clinches, realizing she did skip dinner with Miss Cora last night so we could study together for our lab final. I didn't even realize she had skipped her weekly dinner, something she never misses. But she did for me.

Fuck.

Sensing my guilt, Mr. McCausland continues. "It's okay," he assures me. "It's actually an anniversary for Cora today. So it worked out that they did dinner tonight instead."

I nod, some of my guilt subsiding. "Her and Olivia are pretty close, huh?"

The two have dinner together every week, religiously. And when I took Olivia to the ER that day, Miss Cora was thorough about Olivia's care, fussing over her and running tests twice to make sure she was truly okay. I could tell Mr. and Mrs. McCausland were close with Cora too from how they interacted at the hospital.

He smiles fondly. "Yeah. Cora's a good family friend. Olivia and her daughter are... close."

I can sense a shift in his mood, the way his face turns solemn, smile timid.

"Oh," is all that comes out of my mouth. "I didn't know Miss Cora had a daughter."

Olivia never mentioned it. I just thought Miss Cora was someone she met while shadowing at the hospital and that's as far as their connection ran.

He nods, hesitant. "Yeah, that's actually why Olivia is with Miss Cora tonight. It's, uh—it's actually the anniversary of her daughter's death."

My face blanches, stomach in knots.

He swipes his hand over his mouth uncomfortably, smoothing out his mustache afterward. "It's been a number of years since she passed and Olivia's been helping her cope. It's just Miss Cora by herself since her daughter is gone, so Olivia spends time with her frequently to make sure she doesn't get too lonely. I think she sees Olivia as a second daughter," he informs me, voice thick with emotion. There's a deep sadness in his eyes, but I also see the sparkle of adoration, how proud he is of his daughter for being that outlet for Cora. 

Oh, Finch. Once again, proving why she's too good for me. Too good for anyone.

"Wow," I whisper, really not knowing what to say now.

Mr. McCausland nods and we both stand in silence for a moment, him reminiscing and me absorbing this new information.

He shakes his head, seemingly clearing his thoughts before squaring his shoulders, his usual charismatic demeanor returning. "Yeah. I'm sorry you missed her, but I'll let her know you stopped by."

I shake my head. "Don't worry about it, sir. I'll just catch her tomorrow."

"You sure? I mean, you're more than welcome to come in if you want and wait for her. I'm not sure how long she'll be, she'll probably be out late, but there's a game on that I'm going to watch if you want to stay," he offers politely.

I give him an appreciative smile, respectfully declining his offer. I'm sure after the day she's had, the last thing Olivia wants to do when she gets home is see me and hash out another fight. She's already had such an emotionally taxing day that I don't want to send her over the edge, ruining any sliver of a chance I may still have left with her. And I definitely don't want to seem like the domineering boyfriend that can't let her breathe, especially to her parents. 

"No, thanks, Mr. McCausland. I'll catch her tomorrow," I repeat, backing away from the door. "Have a nice night."

"Alright, Bronx. You, too."

He watches me from the doorway as I walk down the driveway and hop on my bike.

I drive back to campus, my chest tight and mind racing a million miles an hour. While I may not have gotten what I wanted to get accomplished tonight, I know there's always tomorrow. Even if the wait kills me.

My fight isn't over yet. I'm going to fight for her with everything I have in me tomorrow morning, first thing.