Let It Be: A Sequel to So Be It

Chapter Eight

AN: For this chapter, I suggest listening to Augustana's 'Stars and Boulevards' as you read.

Chapter Eight: Alex's POV

The night of the late Penguins season ticket holder's funeral, Olli and I laid in bed, side-by-side. Before the pregnancy, we'd cuddle, but with my stomach being six times its normal size, embracement like that was tricky, and usually pretty rare.

The night light slipped through the side blinds, into the room, drenching the ceiling in a powdery, starry haze. In a way, it brought me back to February; the night Olli had returned to the 'Burgh from Sochi. The night we stayed up for hours on end, just kissing, and cuddling, and doing other obnoxiously-romantic shit. The night that I never wanted to end.

Nowadays, things were pretty rough. Back then, things were so simplistic.

Alright, back then, things weren't really simplistic, either. We were both teenaged idiots, engaged-to-be-married, without a clue how the real world worked. All we knew was the taste of each other's lips. We hardly even knew ourselves.

But be that as it may, back then, I wasn't eight months pregnant. Olli didn't have a tumor on his thyroid. And hey, my brother wasn't in Nashville.

I'm not going to address James much, seeing that our relationship was still a disaster, and emotions grew even more fried with him moving over 550 miles away. I'm just going to throw it out there that despite frosty exchanges and a lack of love, things were a lot easier with him when he lived in the same city.

Just, generally speaking, things were easier months before.

Being a Duquesne student was a lot easier than being a housewife, knowing I probably wouldn't ever be much more.

Living under the same area code as my brother was a lot easier than never knowing when I'd actually see him again.

Sleeping in a separate bed than my healthy boyfriend was a hell of a lot easier than laying wide awake in the same one as my presumably-cancerous husband.

All of that probably sounded horrible, and made me seem like such the cold-hearted, satanic bitch, but god, it couldn't have been more bang-on. Things weren't easy anymore, and I was paralyzingly nostalgic for the days they were.

"Honey," Olli's husky voice rasped, drawing me from my momentary flashback. "What are you thinking about?"

I shook my head to myself. There wasn't a way I could possibly tell him what was really on my mind.

"Compound equations, naturally." I replied half-heartedly, tone crackling.

"I didn't realize I married Einstein." He teased back, equally as weak. I was almost positive Olli knew what was going on, but I wasn't going to be the one who brought it up.

"You married a Neal, honey. Don't you know, we're far above the rest of you peasants." I was trying to keep the jokey mood going, but my energy was faltering.

I couldn't keep going much longer.

Deep in the pit of my throat, I felt a hard lump. Tears pricked on the surface of my eyes. A cold shiver ran throughout my extremities. I attempted to roll to my side, that way Olli wouldn't notice the teardrops trickling down my cheeks, but alas, I couldn't shift positions in time.

"Alexandra, are you crying?" My husband concernedly asked, pushing his body up, so he leaned over me.

I opened my mouth to lie, but promptly shut it. Arguing was useless; I was a couple jagged breaths away from full-on, shoulder-shaking sobs.

"What's wrong?" He pleaded, reaching down, using his left thumb to dry a swatch of skin directly under my eye.

"Lots of things." I choked out.

Through the light of the stars, I could make out a faint smirk etched on Olli's lips. "Global warming really is a big concern."

I breathily giggled, tear flow subsiding for a few seconds. No matter what, the kid knew how to calm me down.

"But seriously," He mumbled, gently tugging at my tank top. "What's wrong, baby girl?"

Shakily, I exhaled. Really, I wasn't sure where to begin.

In the grand scheme of things, life wasn't completely miserable. I did have an adorable, wise, incredibly geeky husband, and a beautiful, warm home, and an unborn daughter on the way. It sounded incredibly selfish of me to say life wasn't going too hot, because in reality, I had everything any girl could ever ask for. At the age of 19, I had more than some 39 year-olds did.

But at the same time, I wasn't happy. I was an utter mess. It was like, things weren't wrong, but they weren't right, either. Have you ever felt like that?

"I don't even know anymore, Olli." I whispered, at a loss for words. I had so many thoughts, but none of them sounded right in honest-to-goodness word form; they all seemed so twisted. "I guess I just wish things were easier."

My better half sat silent for a moment, before croaking, "E-easier?"

With much effort, I pushed my frame up straight, so I sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Olli. "Yeah, easier. I wish you weren't sick, and I wish I had plans, and I wish James was back home, and I wish things were just easier."

I could see the outlines of Olli's figure go limp. While he probably wouldn't fess up, I knew somewhere, no matter how deep, he felt the same as I did.

Everything that was taking place was just a massive pill to swallow.

"I'm so sorry, Alex.." He babbled suddenly.

Sucking every cubic inch of oxygen out of my lungs, I forced a heavy sigh. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. I just wish things were better, you know?"

Unlike most times that you had a conversation where there was a bit of a natural pause between what you said, and what the person you were taking to replied with, there was no pause. Olli began to talk as soon as I was finished.

"God, I know. Things have grown so tough with all that's gone down. It's all just so fucking stressful."

In a slightly disturbing way, it was nice knowing I wasn't the only one who felt this way. It was nice to have someone to spill feelings with.

"Life was so much easier last year.." I muttered, leaning my head over, onto Olli's shoulder.

"Do you miss last year?"

Without a word, I bit my lower lip, and gazed up into Olli's eyes. The eyes that were practically the definition of 'home'. "Yes, without a doubt. But I don't know if I'd necessarily go back."

It seemed really bizarre, I know, since I wined about longing for the year before, but for many reasons, I wouldn't go back and relive it. Despite the challenges my husband and I faced, I wasn't quite sure I'd actually trade that life.

"Same." Olli murmured into the half-illuminated room.

From there, we didn't say much more. And honestly, maybe the quiet spoke louder than anything that could've been said.

Things weren't easier, and they weren't always alright, but they were real. And they featured Olli. And to an extent, I didn't need much more.