Page 59 of A World Without You
Friday, December 15th
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MY EYES FLUTTER OPEN, and I’m staring at Colin’s face. His eyes are closed, revealing just how curly his dark lashes are. My gaze travels from his face down his throat to his chest as it moves up and down slowly with each breath. I reach out and run my hand over his heart, feeling the faint, rhythmic pulse underneath his white t-shirt.
“I want this to be real,” I whisper to the quiet, dark room.
“It is.” His chest vibrates as he speaks and my eyes snap to his. “We get ten more days of this.”
“Why just ten?” I ask.
He squints at me, and his mouth quirks in a confused yet impatient smile. “Why do you insist we keep talking about it?” he asks as he sits up, runs his fingers through his hair, and pulls so his thick, brown locks stick up the wrong way. Instead of looking like a mad scientist, he looks like a sleepy, love-drunk model who is annoyed and brooding intentionally. “God, it’s like you have amnesia.”
Panic rises in my chest because I feel like I’ve been caught.
He lets out an irritated chuckle then looks down at me. I’m propped on my elbows, watching his every movement. “You’re second-guessing everything.”
A statement, not a question. He sees right through me in every life.
“I don’t know how not to,” I say truthfully.
“You promised you wouldn’t do this. You swore that once we made the plan, we would act completely normal, like nothing between us changed, until the day you leave.”
“Paris?” The question slips out before I can stop it. I remember my assistant, Petra, talking about it. I swallow hard against my impulsiveness, realizing each day with him, I sound more and more like a fraud.
Colin is clearly trying to reconcile who and what I’ve become. His stare causes a wave of embarrassment to wash over me, and I can feel my cheeks flush, so I avert my eyes and stare at the white sheets underneath me.
“Hey,” he says, his voice rugged and soft. He tilts my chin to face him with just one finger. “Don’t freak out.”
“I’m not,” I lie.
Colin’s gaze softens, and he sweeps a thumb over my cheek and says, “Your eyes tell a different story, Olivia. What’s wrong? Tell me the real version.”
“I don’t know the real version,” I confess.
He hesitates, chewing on his bottom lip, before he speaks up, “I told you I’m okay with what you want. You’ve supported my dreams for the last five years, and now it’s my turn to support yours.” He rotates his hand so he’s cupping my face and inadvertently coaxing me closer to him. He pulls me close as I crawl up to where he’s seated against the cream-tufted headboard. I press my back against his chest, and the warmth of his body floods through my silk pajamas and ignites my chest. “It will always be us, even when it’s not, Olivia.”
I tilt my head back against his chest and close my eyes. I don’t like not knowing exactly what he means. I hate that something is burning in my chest telling me I do know. I do understand how we got to this place in this life, but I don’t know why.
“I’m always going to love you, Colin.”
“And I’m going to have a hard time letting you go.”
“Then don’t.” I hold onto his arms wrapped around me, squeezing my eyes shut. I don’t want to cry when I don’t know exactly what I’m crying about. But his tone, the hurt in his eyes, and realizing he’s not going to be with me in this life either feels like a blow to my heart.
“What do you mean?” he asks, shifting so we’re face to face.
“Don’t let me go. Tell me to stay.”
“Olivia...” he breathes, his expression faltering.
“Don’t let me go. I don’t have to go. I could stay here with you. We could be happy.”
“You can’t do this,” he says.
“Do what?”
“Give me the whiplash of wanting to move on with your life without me, and then telling me I’m the only one you ever want.” He drags a hand down his face to collect himself. “I know when you got the news, you were too excited to panic, and now that you’re days away, you’re second-guessing everything. You always do.”
