Shock was a funny thing. Made a person do some of the worst things possible without feeling a damn thing. Derek hadn’t been able to feel a single part of his body once Olivia started talking. He’d gone numb and then had stood there like an idiot, trying to understand what exactly she was trying to tell him and how it all fit into the orderly life and memories he’d built over the years.
The O from his bed, the one who had been in his dreams for the past four years, was the same Olivia who had been there the day his family had broken apart—who had been there countless times before that.
He still couldn’t quite believe it.
Derek ran his hands through his hair and tried to steady his breathing. The part of him that had fallen for Olivia over the last four years knew he shouldn’t have left her standing in the hotel room like that, looking as if she’d broken right along with him. But the other part of him hadn’t been able to look at her and not remember everything he’d lost.
He hadn’t been able to separate the two parts of himself as he tried to digest the information and whatever he felt about the words coming from her mouth.
He had no idea what he should have done or even what he was supposed to do now. Somehow, he’d driven himself home, leaving Olivia behind like the right asshole he was, and all so he could think. But now that he was in his house, on his couch, he couldn’t think of a damn thing.
Olivia had been the little girl who ran around with Stacey every day as if they had no cares in the world. They’d been so young, so free-spirited, that yeah, they hadn’t had any true cares to weigh them down. They were little girls, they shouldn’t have had to deal with the big issues anyway.
Now that he really thought about it, he could see some of the same hints of the girl he’d known in the woman he found years later. The shape of her eyes, the corners of her smile. But the younger Olivia had always smiled brighter, always had such an innocence about her that shone in her eyes. A purity she’d been allowed to have because she was way too young to deal with any of the crap that had come after Stacey’s accident. Hell, he’d had the same innocence, at least he liked to think he did. Then, everything changed, and he honestly hadn’t thought of Olivia again.
Maybe he should have.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself, annoyed that he’d let himself get this twisted. Not over a woman, but over a past he couldn’t change.
He knew it hadn’t been Olivia’s fault. Hell, Stacey had run out into the road on her own before that day and likely would have anyway without Olivia calling out to her. The driver of the car had said as much, and while he hadn’t spoken to the man in over a decade, he knew that he had never forgiven himself.
It seemed that no one had forgiven themselves in the past decades with regards to the tragedy.
The driver sure hadn’t, but he also hadn’t contacted Derek or his family to try to apologize or talk things out, at least not since the random phone call he’d placed when Derek was a teenager. It was after Derek’s father had left, and when his mother had been going down one of her spirals. The driver had even said that it would be the last time he would call, but he wanted to let Derek and his family know that he’d always be thinking of Stacey. Derek hadn’t known how he felt about it at the time, but over the years as Derek learned a bit more about who he was and how he dealt with his own grief, he knew that whatever the driver needed to do in order to live with what happened, Derek understood.
It hadn’t been the driver’s fault. It was an accident. And though Derek’s mother had accused the driver at first, she’d really blamed herself—and even Derek—for the accident. She’d blamed God and fate and everyone she could. But none of that guilt had been able to bring Stacey back. None of that had been able to bring his mother back.
His father had blamed Derek for not watching Stacey, even though Derek had only been a year older and far too young to be responsible. That didn’t stop his dad from being the asshole he was. The man had dealt with his grief by taking his rage out on Derek. Never with his fists, but words hurt enough. Then, his father hadn’t been able to deal with Derek’s mother’s grief and breakdowns, so he’d just left one night without a word and hadn’t looked back. There’d been money for child support until Derek turned eighteen, along with divorce papers, but for all intents and purposes, when Derek lost his sister, he’d lost his father and mother, as well.
Mom had checked out mentally, Dad emotionally, and Derek had been left to pick up the pieces.
Yet it had taken Derek far too long to find the pieces to pick up, and then he realized he didn’t have enough to make up who he once thought he was.
But through all of that, he’d never once blamed the little girl who was with his sister that fateful day. Maybe he should have thought of Olivia more, but he’d only been seven years old and had just lost his little sister. He lived in a warzone within the confines of his home, and then he’d been pulled out of the only place he’d ever known and moved to a new one as soon as his mother was able.
I never blamed her, he repeated to himself.
And now that he could breathe, now that he could think, he knew she probably blamed herself far more than he would ever think to. He didn’t even blame her for not telling him right away. If what she’d said was true, and hell, he believed her, then she hadn’t known until he’d said his name.
He’d known once he told her to call him Derek that things would change, he just hadn’t realized the how or the extent of it. And they had changed. He’d thought at first it was because he’d asked too much of her but, apparently, it had been the trigger for her to remember who he was from all those years ago.
No wonder she’d wanted to leave and never see him again.
He was the visual memory of that pain in her life.
The thing was, she was the same for him.
Now he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to look at her and not think of Stacey and that day with the butterflies.
That was the problem. He might not blame Olivia for what happened, but just her face would now make him remember that pain day in and day out. Was he strong enough to get through that? He didn’t know, but that was something he needed to think about before he made any decisions. And no matter what happened in the hotel room earlier, he hadn’t actually made the decision.
He didn’t know what he was going to do about Olivia, but he knew he needed to do something…before he lost her and perhaps himself forever.
And before he could think himself into a headache, his phone buzzed, and he groaned. It was like the woman knew exactly when to call in order to make Derek hate himself even more.
He answered on the third ring. “Mom.”
“I want to make cookies, but I’m out of peanut butter. Can you pick some up?”
It was seven at night, and the woman wanted to make cookies. Didn’t even think about if Derek might be working or if he had plans. But that was his mother now, and there was nothing he could do about it or he’d risk losing her forever.
“I bought you some last week,” Derek said. “And it’s late, Mom. You should be relaxing before bed.” It wasn’t late, but it felt like it for his mother.
“I’m the mother. You’re the son. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Jesus. “I know, Mom. But it’s late. Get ready for bed and we can make cookies tomorrow if you want.”
“Never mind, I don’t want to make cookies now.”
Then she hung up, and Derek looked at his phone, wondering how exactly he was going to deal with his mother for the rest of his life. It wasn’t always this bad. He could go weeks without hearing from her because she’d ingrained herself into society and a healthy life. But, sometimes, it was like how it had been this past month.
He’d never tell his mother about Olivia. Ever.
Olivia didn’t need that in her life.
And that was just one more reason it might be good for him to never see Olivia again. The thing was, though, he wanted to see her again. Wanted her in his life. He just wasn’t sure if he could handle the cost or what that cost might even be after he thought more about it.
His mother would always be a part of his life. He was the only one left for her, and she was still his mom no matter what had happened in the past. That meant if he had Olivia in his life, as well, there would always be that tension. It would be something they’d either work through or not be strong enough for.
Olivia was already so damn strong, and now he was afraid that he’d be the weak one.
He’d once again thought himself into a corner, and knew that if he didn’t just breathe and maybe have a beer so he could relax, he’d end up with an ulcer and still no decisions.
Memories of every time he’d had Olivia in his arms and how he felt when he wanted her to know his name came back to him. He’d wanted her as part of his life. He’d wanted more. He’d gone tonight knowing that she might not be there but hoping she would be. He’d gone to ask her to be in his life and to be more than just a single night a month. He’d broken all the rules and had laid himself bare for her.
And though he hadn’t known every part of her—clearly—he’d known enough. The woman who had stood in front of him had been broken more than once, had shaken when she told him the truth. But she had told him. Had known that everything could and would change when she did so. He could never fault her for that.
And the thing was, he’d fallen for her. He fucking loved her and wanted more from her, wanted to give more of himself to her in the process. He just hoped that he’d be able to not think of Stacey when it came to Olivia.
So he would sit, and he would wait. He would think, and he would talk it out with himself until it all made sense. And if it never became clear, then he’d know his answer.
Because he hadn’t fallen for the idea of Olivia, he’d fallen for more. They knew more about each other than they’d planned because there had been no way not to learn more with four years’ worth of meetings. He knew the kind of woman she was, and knew that if he could find the strength to remember what they could have rather than what he’d lost, what they’d lost, they could be something great.
He just needed to get over himself and make that happen.
At least, he hoped.