A Tragic Wreck (Beautiful Mess 2)

Olivia sang the chorus, her voice sweet and quiet, holding back unbidden tears as she pleaded for a second chance. She wanted Alexander to feel her pain, to hurt as she hurt. Regret coursed through her body as she remembered how she pushed him away over and over again. She wanted one last chance so she begged, hopelessly wanting him to change his mind or, at least, not marry Chelsea.

Alexander looked at Chelsea, her eyes shimmering with tears as she sent him a pleading look. He knew that he had done exactly what Olivia did. He pushed her away, ignoring the best thing that had ever happened to him, scared that she would run again, leaving him hurting and in pain. Up until that moment, he was content with his decision to keep his heart at arm’s length, desperately needing the control he felt from that. As he stared back and forth between the two women that knew him better than anyone else, he was torn.

Olivia watched Alexander stare into Chelsea’s eyes but couldn’t figure out if the connection between him and Chelsea was still there or not. As she finished the first chorus, her heart sank when Alexander leaned down and kissed Chelsea. Olivia’s eyes immediately snapped back to the piano, thankful to have the familiarity of the white and black keys laid out in front of her.

As she continued singing, her voice became stronger, remembering all those mornings waking up next to Alexander, sharing coffee and kisses. A tear escaped her eye, falling down her cheek. She shook her head, reminding herself that those were no longer her lips to kiss. He was very nearly a married man and once the song was over, she would stop fighting for him. She had been fighting for him since she arrived in Boston. She was mentally and physically exhausted. There was no fight left. There was nothing left.

Olivia’s eyes roamed the audience, locking on Alexander’s wet eyes once more. She sang the last chorus to him as if he was the only person in the entire audience because, to Olivia, he was the only one that mattered at that moment. But she couldn’t continue on if he wanted nothing to do with her. As the final chord rang through the bar, she resolved that she would walk away from him if that really was what he wanted.

“Olivia Adler, ladies and gentlemen!” Mo shouted, leering in Alexander’s direction as Olivia finished the song to enthusiastic applause. Tears fell down Alexander’s cheeks as he kept his arms tightly wrapped around Chelsea, desperate to feel something for her. He watched as Olivia quickly jumped off the stage, making a bee-line to the bar. She hovered for a moment, waiting for Alexander to say something. But it never happened. He simply gazed at her and slowly bowed his head, shaking it.

Olivia felt all the wind rush out of her body. It was over. She lost him. He was going to leave that bar and marry Chelsea the following morning.

“Come on, Libby. Let’s get you out of here.” Kiera grabbed Olivia’s arm and dragged her away.

Alexander watched as Kiera led Olivia out of the bar, wondering if he would ever see her again. Wondering if he made the right decision, wondering if wasn’t too late to change his mind.

“Come on, Alex. Let’s go home,” Chelsea crooned in his ear. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A man stood in the corner of a bar in downtown Boston, looking at a sad, beautiful woman being led away, clearly too heartbroken to even stand. Nathan Roberts knew it was risky to come to Boston after all these years, but he needed to.

When Thomas Burnham died, he thought all hopes of ever finding her again were gone. But one clue led to another, which led to another, and he eventually found out that she had returned to Boston. He heard that she had been singing with a band on Friday nights at a bar in the Financial District, and he wanted to see it for himself.

When the lead singer of the band announced a guest performer that night whose name was Olivia, his heart skipped a beat. He wondered why she still went by Olivia and not her real first name…Sarah. Or, at least, her real first name on paper.

He hid himself in the back of the audience, his eyes glued to the woman sitting behind the baby grand piano. The face. The eyes. The lips. They belonged to her mother.

Then she sang, and he knew. He found Olivia. After all these years of looking, his search was finally at an end. She was there, her voice full of pain.

And then he saw who she was singing to. It couldn’t be, he thought to himself. But she had said his name.

Alexander.

What did Olivia know?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

WRECKED

OLIVIA WOKE UP THE following morning, still wearing her dress from the night before. The rising sun peeked through the blinds, and she looked outside, hoping to see green eyes staring back at her from a parked SUV. But there was nothing. No car parked out front. Nothing. The street was empty, just like she felt inside. Empty.

Always a glutton for punishment, she walked over to her TV and flipped on the news, knowing there would be coverage of the wedding since it appeared to be the event of the year in Boston.

She was right.

Olivia watched as teams of reporters stood in front of Old Trinity Church in Copley Square, naming off various dignitaries from numerous countries in attendance. She felt her stomach churning at the thought of Alexander saying those vows to Chelsea, placing that ring on her finger, and the minister declaring them husband and wife until death do they part.

Bolting off the couch, she ran for the bathroom and emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet, dry heaving because she barely ate anything the previous day. At that moment, she knew she needed to leave Boston. Everything reminded her of Alexander. Knowing that he would be married within the next few hours broke her even more than she was before.

Raising herself off the bathroom floor, she ran up to her bedroom and began throwing some of her belongings into her suitcases. She had paid for the beach house until mid-April. That’s where she would go. She knew she was running, but this time, she was running from someone who wanted nothing to do with her. Someone that made her very presence painful in that city of so many amazing memories.

As she packed, she heard a loud knock on the front door. Not expecting company, she ignored it, wanting to get out of Boston as soon as possible.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Olivia heard a few minutes later. She turned her head to see Mo and Kiera standing in the doorway, their arms crossed and eyes wide.

“I’m packing. That’s what the fuck I’m doing!” she cried out. “I need to get out of here!” She ran around to the other side of the bed, grabbing another suitcase, and began taking more clothes off hangers and stuffing them into the bag. “Shouldn’t you two be on your way? You’ll be late for the wedding of the fucking year.” Olivia’s breathing picked up. She clutched her chest, falling to the ground, collapsing under the absolute heartache she felt at that moment.