Page 108 of The Time It Takes
It was so quiet. I wondered if he could hear my heart hammering in my chest.
His hand came down on my shoulder softly and I rolled onto my back to find him looking down at me. His eyes were bloodshot, and they looked swollen from crying. I could smell the booze on his breath, his pores. My entire body tensed in alarm as I reached up and touched his cheek, caressing his windburned skin with my thumb.
“Please tell me what’s going on,” I whispered, pleading him with my eyes.
Oliver grabbed my wrist, closing his eyes as he let a tear fall. He pressed his lips against the palm of my hand, then the pulse that pounded in my wrist. He shook his head and let out a shaky breath.
When he lifted his eyes to meet mine again, I wanted to fall apart.
“It’s my dad.” His voice cracked and I could tell it’d been a while since he’d last spoken. “He—he’s sick and he’s not going to get better.”
My heart broke for him. I had so many things I wanted to say. So many things I wanted to ask. What stopped me was knowing that it wasn’t what he needed. He just needed mehere.
It explained all the disappearances. Beau must have been seeking treatments. I knew he had the money for it, but sometimes no illness had a cure that any kind of money could buy. Some cures didn’t exist. The way Oliver looked made me believe that he might have just lost the most important thing of all—hope.
It was also why Oliver was taking over his father’s business right away instead of going to college like he had planned to. I felt like the worst friend ever for getting angry at him when he told me underneath the pier.
I ran my hand through his hair, and his eyelids shuttered. I was planning to ask him where he was all night, but being here with him now, it seemed so small. He was in front of me and that was all that mattered. The tears I was holding back clogged my throat. I wanted to be strong for him like he had always been for me.
He kissed the inside of my palm again and placed small pecks up my forearm.
“Is it alright if I stay with you tonight?” I asked him so that he didn’t have to.
He rotated me in his arms and pulled me back against his chest.
“Always,” he whispered against my ear.
I found his pinky and wrapped it around mine. “I’m here for you—for all of you.”
His arms tightened around me. “I know.”
Not being able to help myself, I turned so that I was facing him and buried my face into his chest.
He tilted my head back with his thumb. His lips found mine as if we’d done this sort of thing a million times and I swore in another life we had. I tasted the rum on his tongue as it ran along mine. I savored this kiss like it could be our last. It was slow and intimate and so unlike all the past Ollie’s and Willow’s. This one was the most real. This version. This was the version I’d choose to stay.
Our lips parted, but his hold tightened. I traced my fingertips over his chest and his back as I held him in my arms.
“I don’t know what to do, Will,” he whispered against my temple. “I feel like I’m falling apart.”
I thought back to what my brother told me when our father passed away. At that time, it was only the two of us left standing on the beach—everyone else who attended the funeral was long gone. I didn’t really understand death all that much yet, but enough to know he was gone forever. He had taken me by the shoulders and said, “We’ll figure this out. You and me. One day at a time. But we’re going to live, Will. That’s what he would want.”
The world granted few favors, which was why you’ve got to hold onto them with every ounce of strength you’ve got left.
My words came out urgently. A promise. “If you want to fall, I’ll be right there to catch you. If you want to scream, I’ll scream with you. If you want to break, well, then too damn bad because I’m not letting that happen.”
His body trembled in silent sobs I knew I couldn’t stop. He had to let himself feel it all. It was the only way.
“I love you so damn much,” he croaked.
I started to pull away to look at him.
“Please don’t let go,” he pleaded, his voice shaking as he held me close.
I swallowed my concern and urge to do anything at all to make his pain go away—but the truth was, it wasn’t mine to take. All I could do was not let go.
“Never,” I whispered to the beautiful heart that beat in a soft rhythm behind the storm-weathered butterfly. I pressed my lips to the tattoo and felt his shiver in my spine.
We fell asleep with our bodies as entwined as our souls.
