Charlotte
(Present Day)
Shock, followed directly by unspeakable anger, are the emotions I'm feeling right now. Oliver loves me? I call bullshit.
He's still staring up at me like I'm supposed to say something. How am I supposed to respond to that? I love you too? Not happening. The way he's stumbling around trying to remain upright is a clear indicator he's wasted.
I grit my teeth. "Don't move. I'll be right down."
Oliver gives me half a nod and laces his fingers on top of his head. I almost feel bad for him. The sadness in his eyes is apparent even from this distance and it makes my stomach flip. I'm not heartless. Despite what he did to me, the last thing I want is to cause him pain.
Carefully, I lower the window and step around the shards of glass scattered on the hard wood floor. I make a mental note to grab a broom on my way back.
I throw on a long grey sweater on my way out the door. Oliver has his back to me as I approach.
"You proud of yourself?" I ask, taking another step closer.
He shakes his head as he turns around to face me. "I'm sorry about the window. I'll fix it, I swear." He staggers forward and reaches for my hand. "I didn't mean for that to happen. I was just trying to get your attention."
I laugh. "Well, you got it."
"I love you," he says again.
I give him a shove backwards and he trips over his feet a little. Balance isn't his friend right now. "Stop saying that."
His eyebrows pull in. "I can't," he slurs. "I should have said the first time I felt it—because let me tell you something, darlin'." He leans closer to me and draws his hand into his chest. "I fucking felt it. I've loved you for so long I can't even remember how it started. All I know is in that moment I was terrified."
The whiskey on his breath is masking the sincerity in his eyes. I don't believe him, but I also don't want him to stop talking.
"Why?" I ask finally. "Why would that scare you?"
Ollie releases a sound of anguish. "Because." He throws his arm out the side. "I knew it would end like this."
"Like what?"
"With you hating me." His eyes close for a moment and then he shakes his head as if to erase his thoughts. He takes a breath and then opens them, burning me with his gaze. "Because that's what happened isn't it? You didn't want a reminder that I ever existed."
My stomach drops. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it that way."
Ollie laughs once. "No, I think you did." He takes a step closer, placing his hands on my arms. "I deserve that. I do."
"You don't," I whisper.
His eyes drift to my lips for a beat, but he doesn't lean closer. Instead, he looks me straight in the eye. "I love you. I didn't think I needed to say it for you to know that I felt that way. It's fucking stupid and I was too dumb to realize what I was doing."
I take a shaky breath. "You know that's not the reason, right?"
He nods.
When Ollie nods, it doesn't necessarily mean he understands. It means he thinks he understands what you're talking about. That was a huge part of our problem.
With another shallow breath, I continue. "Your actions didn't tell me that you cared. I was always there for you. Willing to be anything for you. I was your best friend, the one you told your secrets to, and I wanted to be the one you gave your heart to."
He laughs, cutting me off. "Are you kidding me right now?" His laces his hands on top his head again and takes a step back, shock on his face. "How can you even say that? Who else would have it?"
He lets his hands fall heavily at his sides, accusation in his tone. It makes me angry.
"I was only good enough for you when football was no longer an option."
"That's not true—"
"Bullshit!" I cry, cutting him off. His eyes widen, but I keep going. "You were going to leave and you didn't care where I was. You would have been perfectly fine without me as long you got to be the center of attention."
He's shaking his head, but it means nothing to me. He can deny it all he wants. I remember it very clearly if he needs a reminder.
His eyes drift to the ground for a moment. This less confident Ollie is still really foreign to me. "I was fucking stupid." He looks back to me again. "I don't have a better excuse than that. I know it's bullshit, but it's all I have."
I'm biting down on the inside of my cheek, willing myself not to cry. Typically I'm not this emotional around him. Or at least I never used to be. It used to be easy with us. I was never afraid to tell him something. Now every conversation we have seems to be so important. Like one of us is about to say something that will change everything.
Maybe that's why he's here now. But I'm still not sure.
"What do you want from me?"
He runs his hand over his head, his expression conflicted. My heart pounds in my chest anticipating his response. He usually doesn't take this long to make a point. Ollie was on a mission when he came over here, but I'm not convinced he thought everything through.
He tents his hands around his mouth for a moment before dropping them and stepping closer. "Look, I'm not trying to make this about me." He pauses to take a breath. "But you're still here. You could have sold the house and left—but you didn't."
His hands are in my hair, drawing me closer before I have a chance to process it and my breath hitches in my throat. He softens his voice. "I can feel that you want me to be around. You wouldn't have to try so hard not to kiss me and you wouldn't let me spend the night. Those aren't things you do with someone you don't want around."
I try to pull away from him, but he holds me steady. "Ollie, of course I feel that way around you. It doesn't just go away."
"Doesn't it? If you fall out of love with someone then all of the other feelings go with it. You wouldn't still be holding on waiting for something to change."
I swallow the lump in my throat. "Is that what you do?"
"Every day."
His response is automatic. Effortless. He expects me to believe that he's spent the past five years waiting for my return. If he really feels this strongly, I wasn't hard to find.
Reaching my hands up, I remove his from the sides of my face. "I'm not ready to be that way with you again. I don't trust you and forgive me if I'm not convinced you've even changed." Ollie flinches at my words, but I don't stop. "—and just because I'm still here doesn't mean that it's because of you. I don't know what's going to happen. I told you that I wouldn't make any promises."
Most of my words are true, but the reason I'm still here is a lie. I don't want Ollie to know about the stipulations with the will. There's more than one reason for that. All of which I'm not ready to consider.
When I look back into his eyes, my chest tightens. He may be drunk, but the pain is so evident in his features. The sad eyes, hands shoved in his pockets like he doesn't know what to do. It's a far cry from the confident Ollie I'm so accustomed to.
After another beat, he nods and his throat bobs. "I know that. I know."
Unable to stand it any longer, I step forward and gently place my hand on his arm. "You didn't answer my question."
"Which one?"
"What do you want from me?"
He looks away from me, huffing a laugh. His eyes shift back to mine. "I don't want to miss you anymore."
The conviction in his voice makes me falter. I don't want him to be sad anymore either. But I also know the affect his has on my heart. I'm not a masochist.
I make the mistake of looking his eyes again. Maybe I am.
"I don't regret the other night."
My words are quiet and he moves closer, his hands landing on my waist. "All I want is to be close to you again. I don't need anything physical." He takes a shaky breath. "I just want to be beside you."
A heavy sigh racks through me and I reach up to smooth a messy piece of hair from his forehead. He looks wrecked. "You should go get some sleep. I know you work in the morning."
He shakes his head. "I don't want to sleep. I don't even think I could if I tried."
Even though it's a bad idea, I can't stand for him to stay up drinking all night because of me. I know he's trying to be responsible and I'd hate for him to derail all of his progress.
I take a step back and tug on his T-shirt. "Come on. I'm tired and you're too drunk to talk about this anyway."
He opens his mouth to protest, but I cover it with my hand. "Don't argue." He tries to talk through my fingers, so I pull my hand back and narrow my eyes. "I mean it. If you want to talk about this, we can do it when you're sober."
Instead of trying to make his case, he nods. "Okay, we can talk tomorrow."
I don't offer a response as I start walking towards the door with Ollie on my heels. He follows me quietly up to my bedroom and I shut the door behind us. He crawls onto my bed as my eyes drift to the glass still scattered on the floor. I decide to clean it up in the morning and then take off my sweater before pulling the covers back.
It's already after eleven and the amount of sleep I will get now is going to be minimal. I promised Jen I'd be at the studio early all week to get ready for the winter showcase. On top of everything else, I've committed myself to a huge project. I was hoping for a distraction while I'm here, but dealing with Ollie might have been all I can take.
Ollie sits up beside me and pulls his shirt over his head. I take a breath. No matter how many times I see him this way, I'll never get used to it. When he moves to his pants I cast my eyes away. The last thing I want is for him catch me staring and end up in the position we were in the last time he spent the night.
When he's finally undressed, he slides under the covers next to me. I pull the covers up to my neck and pray he doesn't move closer. The amount of will power I have when it comes to him in this setting is lacking and I think he knows that.
Surprisingly he keeps his distance for the moment. I almost think he fell asleep until he speaks again, cutting the silence surrounding us.
"I want you to know that I meant what I said. It has nothing to do with me being drunk."
His words stab through me like a knife. I know it's not lost on him that I didn't say anything back. It's not like I'm trying to be petty. I honestly don't know what to say.
"Did you say it because you thought it would change my mind?"
There's a pause before he answers. "No."
"You don't seem confident about that."
He shifts onto his side and I can feel his eyes on me. "It's part of the reason—yes, but it's not the most important one."
I mirror his position and he reaches between us and takes my hand. His thumb brushes over my knuckles.
"What's the most important one?" I whisper.
His eyes manage to pierce through me, even cloaked in darkness. "Even if you don't feel that way anymore I wanted you know that I always did. That I still do."
My stomach clenches with guilt. So far, he's been very honest about the way that he feels. I can't say the same.
I take a breath, deciding I should change that. "I lied to you when you asked me before."
He slides his hand around my hip and pulls me closer, almost flush against his chest. "Then tell me now."
The lump in my throat grows bigger and I struggle to swallow it back. I lean in and kiss his cheek before pressing my lips below his ear. "I love you, Ollie."
He doesn't say anything in return. He just hugs me closer and buries his face in my neck. I wrap my arms around him in return and he squeezes me even tighter. Even though I can't see his face, I can feel his tears fall on my skin. I've never seen Ollie get emotional and it literally breaks my heart. For all the tears that I've cried, I never wanted his.