“Looking for this?”
My eyes slowly travel up the toned arm that’s holding my shoe, across the muscled chest I’ve rested my ear against so many as I listened to the beat of the heart inside of it and finally lands on the face I’ve held in my hands, seen in my dreams and thought I never wanted to look at again. How did I walk away from him? How did I make myself believe I could be happy without him?
He smiles down at me and I want to kiss the dimples in his cheeks. I want to tell him I’ve missed him and that I made a mistake, but what if I’m wrong? What if we aren’t meant to be together? What if it’s too hard and it just brings more pain?
Is it even possible for us to start over, when there’s so much history and grief between us?
“Sorry to interrupt what looks like a fun night out with the girls,” he tells me, eying the empty bottles of wine that litter our blanket.
Parker and Gwen stare open-mouthed up at Cole and I’m a little irritated that, as hard-assed and straightforward as these two are, they’re completely silent and of no help to me whatsoever.
“I was wondering if you ladies would like to hear a story. It might piss you off, and it could bore you to death, but I’m hoping it has a happy ending,” Cole tells us.
“May I?” He points to the empty spot on the blanket.
I immediately notice the cane in his hand and my heart flutters. I wasn’t sure if he’d like what I did, so I hid it away and was waiting for the perfect time to give it to him. How did he find it?
“By all means, have a seat, kind sir,” Parker finally speaks with a laugh, shoving the wine bottles out of the way as Cole tosses the cane onto the blanket and gently eases himself down next to me.
He keeps his bad leg straight out in front of him and I don’t see a trace of pain on his face as he gets himself situated. I want to ask him if he’s okay and if he’s been keeping up with his therapy, but most of all, I want to run my hands over his freshly shaven face to make sure he’s real and I’m not dreaming.
I can do nothing but stare at him, though, as he begins his story.
“Three years ago, I met a woman who changed my life…”
“I’M SURE YOU’RE going to think I’m the world’s biggest pussy, but I don’t care. This woman, she was strong and beautiful, a fighter and a caretaker and she made everything better,” I tell the women, trying not to look at Olivia.
If I look at her right now, I will fuck things up like I did that day at the cemetery. This is my last shot to get it right and I WILL get it right.
My plan for tonight didn’t get much further than coming to the realization after six months of wallowing in misery and self-pity that I wasn’t going to let Olivia walk away. When Garrett told me that she’d seen the bench I’d had made for our son and pretty much fell to pieces and needed to get out of town, I knew I had to get to her. I never meant for her to see that bench. It was something I needed to do for myself, for my son. It was my way of remembering him and apologizing for not being there for him. I wanted him to have my name, even if it was only in a carving on a piece of stone.
After threatening Garrett with castration by cane, he finally told me where she was and my only thought was getting to her as fast as possible and begging her to come back. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a flight to Napa, so I had to spend nine hours in my car alone, with nothing but my thoughts.
As soon as I saw her sitting on the blanket with her eyes closed, listening to the words of the song Layla was singing on stage, I knew what I needed to do. I needed to tell her our story. I needed to make her see that this wasn’t a mistake. WE weren’t a mistake.
I see Gwen and Parker looking at the cane lying on the blanket between us and I pick it up, running my hand over the silver handle.
“I gave her space, like she asked, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I went to her house to try and beg her to talk to me and when she didn’t answer, I picked the lock and went inside. I know, I’m an asshole, but I had to do it. I had to talk to her,” I tell them, remembering how I walked through the house calling her name. When I got to her bedroom, I saw that the closet door had been left open and something with a red ribbon tied around it caught my eye.
“She had this cane made for me,” I tell them, tracing my fingers over the engraving on the handle. “I had been bitching and moaning about having to walk with a cane for the rest of my life, feeling sorry for myself, and she did something to make it better. She got this cane engraved with the initials of my two best friends and it made me realize that, as much as it sucks, I need to be thankful that I’m still alive. She made me see that I have no reason to feel guilty about losing them, and every reason to live my life to the fullest. To make them proud. To let them know that they didn’t die for nothing. I have to move on and I have to live the life that they’ll never get. She knew that every time I use this cane, I’ll remember them and remember that I have a reason to keep going, putting one foot in front of the other even if it’s a little wobbly.”
I set the cane down and get back to my original story, looking up at Gwen and Parker, who are both staring at me. I feel the heat from Olivia’s body right next to me and it gives me the strength and the courage to go on, just like it always has.
“She made the bad days good and she filled my life with light when it had been dark for far too long,” I continue.
Looking up at the stars, I think about every single moment I’ve spent with the woman sitting next to me and I smile at the night sky.