No one noticed how guilty he felt, they only saw his guilt.
No one saw the pain he was in, they only saw the pain he caused.
No one realised he hated himself, far more than any hated him.
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Antonio Romano
Her warm body was still pressed against mine when I woke up the next day.
I still couldn't believe she was alive and in my arms. I couldn't believe I almost lost her. Not only that, but I couldn't believe my body... I couldn't believe how my body stopped functioning for a split second. It felt like my body died when I saw her fearful eyes gazing at me with...with what? It felt like her eyes held so many emotions at the same time, so in the end it settled down on surrendering. It killed me when she welcomed death, even though it wasn't there for her. I had never felt that kind of pain, until that moment. The moment I thought she would leave me. She looked so hopeless. Like there was no hope of anyone saving her or that she would save herself. She had no hope that I would save her. I understood that; she had no faith in that I would save her. I had never given her the indication that I ever would. Actually, it never crossed my mind to save her, I just hadn't any control over my body when it came to her. It was like an animal took over my body when I saw her choosing to leave me. I had never run that fast in my entire life, one second, I was a few meters away from the mansion, the next I was on Leah's body, covering her from the explosion.
"Mom..." Leah's pained voice brought me out of my thoughts. Her warm body was now unhealthily hot. She had a fever.
"Daddy no!" She cried out as she shook her head.
Shit, she's having the nightmare. I'm going to kill her father once again in hell.
"Please no" She whimpered. Fuck, it hurts. I can't see her in pain like this.
"Leah, wake up, mi amore." I shook her lightly, kissing her temple.
"Wake up," I whispered against her temple and kissed her again. She stirred awake with a gasp. "Anton."
"Yes, baby. I'm here. Shh." I kept kissing her, somehow thinking that it would help.
"I hate it, I hate it so much." The exhaustion and pain in her voice pushed slowly a knife right into my chest.
"What is it that you hate?" She closed her eyes shut as a tear escaped.
"I try to forget that night, but my fucking subconscious won't let me. I don't know what to do," she whispered as more tears escaped her dark ocean. That last confession truly twisted the knife in my chest.
Fuck! I don't know what to do or say. I felt so useless.
Since I didn't know how to help her with her past, I tried to help her with her present. Olivia's fever seemed to have got worse the last few seconds. I put the back of my hand on her forehead.
"Shit. You're burning up," I whispered quietly to myself. Hell, I suck at this caring shit.
So, don't care. My subconscious added.
If I could, I would.
"Olivia, you've a fever. What do you need?" I said softly, ready to bounce to get some medicine or whatever. She snuggled closer to me and sighed a quiet, "You."
She needs me? What?
She really had to stop saying things like that, or I wouldn't be able to live with myself when she leaves.
Since I wasn't totally out of it, I knew you put a wet towel on your forehead when you have a fever.
Olivia was hugging me tightly, so I couldn't leave even if I wanted to. I brought her closer to me and kissed her forehead.
Bring a wet towel to my bedroom. Olivia has a fever.
Colt
I thought we weren't allowed on your floor, your highness.
You aren't. Shut up and bring the towel.
Colt
Now, that doesn't make sense. How am I supposed to bring you a towel when I'm not allowed on your floor?
Besides, I'm in the middle of someone—I meant something.
Shut up. Ditch the whore and come with the towel.
Colt
This is like the hundred time you have cock-blocked me. And why are you still in bed? It's 3 PM, and we have the flash drive to work on.
From the bottom of my heart, shut the fuck up. Towel, NOW.
"God, someone is a bit cranky." Colt grinned as he opened the door with a folded wet towel in his hand. Colt's grin slipped when his gaze took in the sight of Olivia in my bed, in my arms. His puzzled eyes reached mine as he gave me the towel. I saw the question in his eyes which he never uttered.
This wasn't the plan. What are you doing?
Then I saw a statement in his eyes that I hoped wasn't going to be true.
This'll end badly.
He left without a second word.
I rearranged Olivia's sleeping form, so she was on her back, before I put the towel on her forehead.
She looked so broken. Dried tears on her pale cheeks, bloodshot eyes and an expression of exhaustion that seemed to lead to surrender. She was too tired to fight. She had given up.
What had she given up on? Who had she given up on?
I hoped I had misread the surrender part. Surrendering meant you had fully given up, most times that you will take the easy way out and end yourself. I didn't know what I would do if Olivia ever even thought about ending herself, let alone doing it.
The moment she would kill herself, she would kill me too. Because I knew I couldn't live in a world where she didn't exist.
If solipsism was true, if everything around me was all my imagination, then Olivia was the best thing I had come up with. And I couldn't live without the best thing I had come up with.
If she doesn't exist, I don't exist.
With that thought, I put my head on her chest and hugged her tightly, so tight that it seemed like I was scared to let her go.
Maybe I was.
There's no me without her.
She exists, I exist.
She doesn't exist, I don't exist.
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