Inked Nights Page 8

  She’d broken once more, but this time, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to find the pieces to put herself back together.

  She’d given in to that hope, even if she hadn’t wanted to. She’d fallen for the man she promised herself she’d never fall for.

  Her rules were clear: never fall in love.

  But she had.

  Never commit.

  But she’d thought she could.

  And never tell Derek the truth.

  But she had.

  And now, it was over.

  Forever.

  Chapter Eight

  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 cookie
s 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.

  Chapter Nine

  Olivia had known the night before could’ve gone worse, but she wasn’t sure how. Well, Derek could have thrown something, could have yelled, could have done a lot more than he did. But that wasn’t him. He’d asked the questions he needed to, the ones that had come to him in the moment, then he’d left without a word, leaving her alone in the hotel room where any other time they would have shared each other’s bodies and learned little snippets of who they were.

  Because she knew she’d been lying to herself when she thought she hadn’t given him a part of herself along the way. She might not have known every detail, but she knew the heart of him and knew she’d been transparent enough for him to learn the heart of her.

  They’d known each other despite the rules.

  She’d fallen for him against her subconscious wishes and surely against his, as well.

  And he’d left. But it wasn’t as if she could blame him. She’d gone through what felt like her entire life learning not to blame herself—at least not entirely—for what had happened with Stacey, but seeing Derek again, knowing who he was, had forced her to revert back to the young girl who only blamed herself.

  She’d had therapy, she’d talked through her feelings until she was a wrung-out shell learning to fill herself back up with a new version of who she could and should be. But one breath, one look at Derek, and she was back to the girl with daisy chains on her head, chasing butterflies with her best friend. Then, the next breath, she was no longer the woman who had found her strength, but the younger woman, the child, who couldn’t sleep without screaming.

  Olivia let out a breath before running her hand through her hair, undoing the clip in the back. Then, she shook her hair out before twisting it back up so it lay in spirals around her head. She hadn’t bothered to blow it out after the shower, so now it was in partial waves and curls with a few straight parts to round out the bunch. Hence why she tried not to wash her hair as much as possible.

  And if she thought about her hair and cleaning habits, she wouldn’t think about Derek, Stacey, or any work she needed to do. Because heartbreak wasn’t an actual excuse to miss her deadlines. Her authors were counting on her, so it wasn’t as if she could put her emptiness into an email and make them understand.

  Her authors wrote romance.

  But Olivia didn’t live it.

  Clearly.

  She’d known she wouldn’t be enough, but that was okay, that was her lot in life, and she’d move on eventually. She’d find something else to do on those nights she’d always looked forward to. Once she could stand straight again without wanting to break down, she’d roll her shoulders back and perhaps leave the house for longer than it took to get her delivery from her porch.

  She’d be the Olivia who she needed to be again because that was the only answer for her.

  She just needed to not feel as if she were dying inside first.

  “One step at a time,” she whispered to herself, then opened her laptop. She had a final read-through to complete and couldn’t do that if she hadn’t even opened the file.

  Thankfully, her phone buzzed at that exact instant, so she didn’t have to bother trying to see the screen through tear-filled eyes.

  “Alice.” Her voice didn’t crack, so she counted that as a win. She ignored the fact that it sounded hollow, however. Alice would be able to tell her mood well enough from the lack of emotion anyway.

  “Do I need to fly there? Because you sound like I need to fly there. I have the miles. We’ll sit and drink and work because we’re workaholics and know nothing else, but I’ll be right by your side.”

  At that, Olivia broke down into tears, great hiccupping sobs that she knew she’d feel later once the numbness lifted from her chest. She’d texted Alice the night before, telling her friend that Derek had left. She hadn’t wanted Alice to worry but hadn’t been able to find the words to say anything else.

  Olivia’s body shook, and she swallowed hard, trying to catch her breath, but the tears felt good even as they ripped at the part of her she’d been trying to hide, the part that was raw and aching and just wanted to be loved. She’d always hated that part of herself, had felt as if it were weak. But she was wrong.

  She was stronger with it, and now she wasn’t sure what would happen to that layer when she escaped from the ashes of this moment.

  “You better, baby?” Alice asked, her voice soft. “Get it out. Cry all you want, all you need to, and I’ll be here. I’ll be there, too. If you need me. Just say the word. I won’t rush you, but I’m always here for you.”

  “I don’t know why I’m crying. It was just sex, right? It shouldn’t have meant anything.”

  “That’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told me, Olivia. He was more than a single night a month. More than sex. If he’d just been sex, you’d have mentioned him in passing at least once over the course of your relationship with him. The fact that you didn’t tells me you needed and wanted to keep him close to your heart. I get that. I truly do. He was yours, and he meant more than sex. Not that there’s not emotion and need in sex, I know that more than most, but that’s not what you had with Derek. At least not all of it. You
might have held back your names, but I don’t think you held back much else—no matter how hard you tried.”

  “I was just coming to that realization myself.”

  “That’s good. Now you know why you’re hurting. You’re mourning the loss of a relationship that was far different than the label you put on it, and in doing so, you’re bringing back all those memories you’ve fought so hard to not only forget, but also work through. You’re allowed to cry, you’re allowed to rage. You’re allowed to do what you need to do. You told me you didn’t want to continue as you were with Derek without him knowing about your past. Now he knows. The thing is, I don’t know what reaction I expected since I don’t know him.”

  Alice sighed, and Olivia wiped the tears from her face and filled her friend in on everything she hadn’t told her before.

  “I think he reacted exactly how I thought he would. Exactly how the Derek I’ve grown to know would. I don’t know if he blames me for what happened to Stacey and, honestly, I think he believed me when I told him I didn’t know our other connection until that night last month, but the thing is, that’s not everything. He could look at me and see Stacey every single instance, and that will color every interaction we have until the end of time. And I don’t think we’re going to get that time. The thing is, it hurts. I hate it. But it’s not like I can force myself into the situation. I didn’t do anything wrong.” She paused, let out a breath as the realization settled over her. “I didn’t do anything wrong, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to work out with Derek. There are so many complications, it’s not even funny. He might have told me before I told him the truth that he wanted more, but that was without all the facts. And he’s not calling me or at my door so…”

  “He doesn’t have your number, baby.”

  “He could have gotten it from Austin. And he knows where I live. The ball is literally in his court, and even though it’s killing me, I don’t think I’d blame him if he wants to stay away. It’s a lot.”