Page 128 of The Time It Takes
Before I can finish, Oliver is capturing my mouth with his. He kisses me as if these are the words he’s been waiting to hear his whole life. He kisses me and I feel a million stars exploding in my soul. The world could come crashing down around me and I wouldn’t care. At this moment, I’m invincible. Nothing at all can harm me as long as I’m with him. He kisses every bruise, every scar on my essence with this one incredibly consuming kiss.
His hands are ruining my freshly pinned hair, but I don’t care about that either because mine are ruining his as well. He pulls away just enough to say, “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure all of those things come true and more.” His thumb presses into my bottom lip. “You have no idea the plans I have for you and me, Damsel.”
“One day you're going to have to stop calling me that,” I say, pulling him to me.
"Calling you what?"
"Damsel."
His lips ghost mine and a smirk slowly tilts the corner of his mouth. "Never."
The other thing I needed to say is forgotten as I breathe him in. And like a storm, I break with him as my only witness.
He never turned the porch light off for the briefest hope that I’d come back home—back to him.
How does that saying go? You can’t keep a moth from a flame, even if said flame is dimmer than a bitch.
DEAR BEN, EVERYTHING HURTS AND I’M NOT OKAY.
Ten years ago
Iturnedeighteenthreeweeks ago and I had spent it alone, locked away in Ben’s room where no one could reach me. Oliver had once again sat outside the bedroom door waiting for me to let him in, but I wasn’t in the mood for celebrating.
I was in the middle of putting the last of my clothes in a suitcase when my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I pulled it out and glanced down at the screen. When I saw that it was Sadie, I debated ignoring it. I was so angry with her for not wanting to keep the baby. So angry that she wouldn’t let me help her. I bit down my bitterness at the thought that something could be wrong. I answered just before it went to voicemail. I put it on speaker and tossed it onto the floor beside me where I was sitting on my knees.
“Is everything okay?” I asked instead of saying hello.
It was quiet for a moment, and I wondered if she had butt-dialed me. I stopped what I was doing and picked up the phone and brought it to my ear. “Sadie?”
Her swallow was audible, and I sighed. I was about to tell her I was going to hang up, but she cut off my words.
“I wanted to apologize for blurting something I've taken months to consider,” she said quickly. Her voice was uneven, and I could tell she’d been crying.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” I told her. “You still have time to think about it.” I chewed on my bottom lip and waited for her response. I listened to her cry softly and it sounded distant in a way that told me she pulled the phone away from her ear.
“Willow, you know what it’s like to grow up without a mother and father around. I know we can see eye to eye there. It’s what Ben would want; I know it in my heart.” Her words cut me to the core.
“Ben is dead. His say in the matter is long gone just like he is.” My face twisted in disgust at myself, but I was angry at the world and angry with her and even myself.
“You’ll understand one day. Someone could give her a better life than I could ever imagine.” The last words cracked in her throat as if saying it out loud for the first time.
My stomach dropped when I realized what she said. “Did you sayher?”
She sniffled through her tears and groaned. She didn’t mean to tell me that. It seemed like she didn’t even want to know it herself. “You want the truth, Willow?”
I stayed silent.
Sadie sighed. “She’s going to grow up one day and there’s going to be something in the world that will ruin her…and I guess I just don’t want that thing to be me.”
I closed my eyes. It hurt to hear, but I needed to hear it. I understood her perfectly. I might’ve been young, but I’d experienced enough of hell to know when to walk away from something that could only end in more turmoil.
“I’m here for you through it all,” I reminded her. “Whatever you need. Don’t be a stranger.”
I hung up and then tossed my phone onto my bed. I didn’t want to hear her deny my help again. It’d been almost three months since Ben’s death. My mother only came to the funeral, but she might as well not have.
Of course, my friends tried to be there, but they didn’t know how to comfort me. Oliver never gave up trying to figure out how. He’d been watching me like I was a sick puppy. When he knew his words couldn’t reach me, he’d beg to hold me. I never let him.
Bile rose in the back of my throat as I stood up on weak legs. I walked out of my room and across the hall. Ben’s bedroom door was still open, and it was a mess—just like he left it. I’d been sleeping in his bed every night. When I grew too accustomed to his scent that I stopped being able to smell him, I cried for two days straight.
