Come Alive (18 page)

“Here we are, Miss Olivia.”

I squeezed his thigh and looked back at him. “Thanks
for driving me.”

“Wait.”

“Oops, almost forgot,” I said, zipping out of
the hoodie. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to return it to her.”

“Not that. Come here.” He reached out a long arm
and pulled my jaw to him. A palpable silence settled around us when he gave me
a hard peck that softened into an open-mouth kiss. When he pulled back, he wore
a goofy grin.

“I’ll miss you,” I blurted.

His smile faltered, and he swallowed hard. With
a nod, he said, “I’ll miss you too.”

CHAPTER
17

DAVID
HAD MEANT TO CONVEY SOMETHING with the way he’d looked at me Saturday night,
but I wasn’t prepared to learn what it was. Nonetheless, being looked at that
way was addicting. In fact, I couldn’t get it, or other intimate things, off my
mind the remainder of the weekend.

After an agonizing Monday morning, I took a
break to call Gretchen. “Are you still asleep?” I asked when she picked up the
phone.

“Maybe,” she rasped.

“Why aren’t you at work?”

“It was a long weekend.”

“Lucy is back from Paris. Should we do happy
hour tonight? We can surprise her by having Greg show up.”

“Um, no.”

“Why not?” I pouted, thinking it had been a very
clever idea.

“Greg . . . We’re off. It’s over.”

“What?” I screeched. “Oh honey, what did he do?”

“He didn’t do anything. It was
me
. I left with someone else on Saturday night.”

“From
Revelin
? Who?”

“Does it matter? I didn’t even really know the
guy.”

“Why would you do that?” I waited as I heard her
shifting around, most likely sitting up in bed.

“I don’t know,” she said finally, her voice
cracking. “I just freaked, I guess.”

“Freaked?”

“I spent years hating Greg for what he did, and
all of a sudden I’m supposed to forgive him?”

“You aren’t supposed to do anything.”

“Things are just moving too quickly. I think
maybe this is for the best.”

“What’s for the best? Is it over?”

“I guess. We haven’t talked yet, but I don’t see
how it could not be.”

“I’m really sorry,
Gretch
.”

“Why? It’s my fault.”

“Because I know how much he means to you. And I
know it’s not just about some other guy.”

“Um. Why are you being so understanding?”

The question caught me off guard, and I
hesitated. “Listen, I’m coming over tonight and bringing something really bad
for us to eat. We can talk about everything.”

“I would like that,” she said. Her tone made me
realize how much she needed to talk. And I hadn’t been there for her. I hadn’t
even asked her how things had been with Greg, the one who broke her heart all
those years ago.

~

Gretchen
answered the door in her pajamas, and I wondered if she’d been wearing them all
day.

“We come bearing gifts,” I said.

“Really?” Gretchen asked when I handed her a DVD.
She stepped aside to let us into her apartment. “
My Best Friend’s Wedding
? That’s like the worst thing you could
have picked.”

“Why?” Lucy asked, clearly hurt.

“No, it has nothing to do with you,” Gretchen
said, looking at Lucy and then me. She plopped onto the couch, and we followed.
“I’ll just put it out there. I’ve been seeing Greg again.”

“What? Greg as in
Greg
?” Lucy’s eyes doubled in size. “I think I need to sit down.
Liv
, wine,
now
,” she
instructed.

“He called me a few months ago to say he’d taken
a job here.”

“Here as in Chicago?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, my,” Lucy said, shaking her head.

“I didn’t call him back at first. After several
attempts to get in touch though, I finally gave in and agreed to see him.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. It started with a drink, an apology for
what he’s put me through. He said he’d made a mistake by leaving. The second
time we met up, he said he wanted to try again. Of course I protested, but you
know how it goes. One thing led to another, and well, we’ve started dating
again.”

Lucy clamped a hand over her mouth and muffled,
“You’ve been keeping this to yourself?”

“Yes. I guess I was afraid he’d change his mind
again. It was mortifying the first time being dumped like that. I don’t exactly
want witnesses if it happens again.”

“He’s the one who should be mortified,” I
pointed out.

“Why is he moving here?” Lucy asked.

“There was an opening with his company, but . .
.”

“What?”

“Well, he says that’s not the reason. Something
about wanting to be with me,” she said, reddening. “Because he misses how we
were.”

Lucy sighed and rested her chin in her hand. “Wow.”

“I’m not sure I believe it, though,” Gretchen
added.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Lucy demanded, her tone
teetering on outrage.

“He doesn’t exactly have a squeaky clean
record,” I reminded Lucy.

“But maybe it’s different this time,” Lucy
countered. “People change, they want different things as they get older.”

“That’s putting a lot of faith in him,” Gretchen
grumbled.

Lucy looked thoughtful as she took a sip of
wine. “So let me get this straight. He left his entire life behind and moved
across an
ocean
for you. Geez, that’s
like right out of a movie.”

Gretchen looked skeptical. “I don’t know if I
would quite say – ”

“This is like, super romantic,” Lucy chirped
over her. “He realized he made a huge mistake and couldn’t spend another day
without you.”

Gretchen rolled her eyes, but a dimple appeared
in her cheek.

 
The
corner of Lucy’s mouth tugged and she broke into a large smile. “This is major.”

“Why?”

“This could be it.”

“I don’t follow . .
. .”
Gretchen’s eyes narrowed as she focused on Lucy.

“He might be ‘the one.’”

“Jesus Christ,” Gretchen blurted. “It’s only
been a month!”

“Gretchen, he moved here from
Japan
for you. It’s not like he drove over
from Indianapolis. He couldn’t stop thinking about you for, like, five years or
whatever. That’s true love. You’re the one that got away.”

“I think you have that the wrong way around.”

“Don’t you love him?”

“I think so.”

“You think?”

“After all this time, how do I know if I still
love him? Is he the same person? Am I?”

“Of course,” Lucy stated.

“But how can I know that?”

“You can’t, Gretchen. Love means having faith.”
Lucy swirled the wine in her glass and looked off into the distance. “Of course
you still love him. That doesn’t just go away.”

“Maybe not . . . but what if it lessened? I’m
not really sure how I feel.”

“Love doesn’t have levels,” Lucy decided. “It
just is.”

“So you can’t love one person more than
another?” I asked.

“No, I just mean that love doesn’t change or
morph into something else. It just is, you either love him or you don’t. Of
course I love Andrew more than anyone else, but that doesn’t mean I love you
guys any less. I just love you in a different way.”

“What about loving two people at the same time?”
They both looked at me. “In the same way,” I added.

“You mean like friends?”

I felt suddenly warm and pulled at my collar. “No
. .
. .
Not friends.”

“I don’t understand,” was all Lucy said while
her eyebrows met in the middle.

“Like what if Gretchen had met someone else when
Greg was away. What if she were married now? When Greg shows up, does she love
them both?”

“Well, no.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s just not plausible,” Lucy said crossly.
“You can only love one or the other.”

“Never mind,” I said. I knew better than to
point out that maybe her theory had some holes.

“Shit,” Gretchen said. “This is much too
philosophical for my state of mind. I think we are getting way, way ahead of
ourselves. Marriage is not even in the equation, trust me.”

Lucy pursed her lips to show that she didn’t
approve. She looked at me. “I’m not even going to ask what you think.”

“I’m with Gretchen. Anyway, there’s one very
important detail that makes this whole discussion pointless: they are breaking
up.”

“Wait, back up,” Lucy said. “What?”

Gretchen fidgeted with the fringe of the nearest
pillow. “I ditched him for another guy on Saturday night.”

Lucy cocked her head at Gretchen and shook it
slowly. “
Gretchen,
how could you? After all this time
you’ve waited for him to come back.”

“Waited? I haven’t waited for shit. I thought
I’d never see him again, and I’d made my peace with that. But then he comes
waltzing back into my life, in true Greg fashion, and expects things to go back
to the way they were. Do you think I want to put myself through that again?”

I slanted my lips at her. “But you should have discussed
your feelings with him like a mature adult.”

“You’re one to talk, Olivia.”

My jaw dropped, and my eyes darted over her.

“What does that mean?” Lucy asked.

“Nothing,” Gretchen said with a sigh. “I’m just
upset. You’re right, I could have handled it better.”

“She hadn’t even slept with Greg,” I told Lucy.

“You didn’t?”

“No. And I didn’t hook up with the Saturday
night guy either. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“So just tell Greg that,” I said.

“It doesn’t matter, what matters is that I left
him. I’ve been avoiding him ever since, and I’m sure he’s pissed. I don’t even
know if I want to work things out. What if he leaves again?”

If I’d had more faith in Greg, or love for that
matter, I would have told her not to be afraid. Even though my marriage had
been happy, the disappointment of my parents’ divorce was always fresh in my
mind. There was no guarantee that people wouldn’t suddenly change their minds. And
to tell Gretchen that Greg wouldn’t leave again was a reassurance I couldn’t
give her. I grabbed her hand instead. She tilted her head at me but didn’t say
anything.

“If you love him, then you have to try,” Lucy
said, her voice an octave above a whisper. “Don’t give up because of fear.”

Gretchen rubbed her temples. “
Liv
, I don’t think I can go to the ball this weekend.”

“Ball?”

“Um, yes, the animal shelter charity event that
you hounded me to buy tickets for.”

“Oh, right.
The masquerade
ball.
I completely forgot that was this weekend.
It’s fine
,
you already paid
. They’ll get the money.”

“
Dani
will be in town,
I could give them to her,” Lucy offered. My ears perked at the mention of her
name.

“She can have them.”

“So, can we talk about my Parisian honeymoon now?”
Lucy asked excitedly.

~

Droplets
of turquoise water, the smell of chlorine, skin slick against skin, hovering
above the rest of the world, wandering fingers, curious tongues, fistfuls of
hair . .
. .
Heat pooled inside of me, turning me warm
and tender. He’d cradled me on his lap and held me close. He’d not only
listened but had heard me, and when he watched me, it was with attentive eyes.
I tried to forget the feeling of his lips claiming mine or of him swelling
inside of me.

I jumped when the front door slammed. I picked
up the nearest magazine, hiding my flushed face behind it.

“Hey.”

“Hi, honey,” I said from behind an article on
graceful aging. “How was work?”

All week had been that way; on the train, in my
office, at the deli – I couldn’t stop the scorching memories from infiltrating
my life. Between work and home, I hadn’t even been able to relieve myself, and
I was feeling full to the brim with no outlet.

“
Liv
?” Bill asked.

“Yes?”

“I asked how your day was.”

“Oh, fine. Do you want to see your mask for the
masquerade ball this weekend?”

“I don’t really care. Thanks for picking it out.
Jeanine has a couple houses she wants us to see. How’s Sunday?”

Shame. It was red and ugly and written all over
my face. No, I could not see houses with Bill, because I was gutless and
afraid. How could I tell him that things were moving too fast when for him,
they weren’t moving fast enough?

He came and sat next to me on the couch. “Are
you all right?”

“Yes, why?”

“You look pale,” he said, holding the back of
his hand against my forehead. He brushed some hair from my face. “I’m worried
that you’re slipping away again. You’ve been quiet this week.”