Page 60 of A World Without You
“Because maybe I should!” I snap. What I’m second-guessing I don’t even know, but what I do know is that when I have acted on fiery impulse before, I wound up married to a man I barely knew in a town I didn’t even like unless they were singing “Jingle Bells” in the snow-covered streets.
He sighs heavily. “This happens every time, Olivia. I start yelling. You start crying, but the outcome is the same. You’re still leaving, and we’re not going to be together anymore.” The expression in his blue-gray eyes fills with regret, but I stay quiet. “I’m not going to stop loving you. And I’m not going to stop you from going to Paris.”
Paris.The word flashes through my mind, lit up in bright red LED lights, flashing, moving, scrolling. Visions of the city and my dreams are compounded into a single word. A single place. The little girl in me dreamed of Paris and Tokyo and London. I wanted to travel the world with my camera. But I always knew photography was hard to get into and make a living out of it. People want cheap family pictures, not an eye for lighting and stylized photoshoots. So, I went into marketing. My photography became my art. My therapy. My personal outlet, and no one could dictate the direction I needed to go. No one could water down my efforts or critique the photography because they were just for me.
“So when I go to Paris...” I begin trying to feel out our agreement.
“We won’t be together,” he finishes before I can venture a guess. “Soon after Paris, you’ll be in London and then Venice. Then St. Tropez. Then Beijing. Then...I forget. Babe...” he adjusts and pulls me closer, squaring off my shoulders with him. “This is your dream. You worked your ass off to get here. A year traveling the world for photography.”
My jaw drops. I can’t hide the shocked expression on my face.
“Olivia, I’m really starting to worry about you...” Colin’s voice shakes a bit. “Like, this isn’t just a you-took-an-edible-with-some-drinks kind of forgetting. This is...your life.”
I blanch, knowing I’m caught. I can’t keep up this charade. I thought I could play house with the man I loved once upon a time, but the concern in his eyes tells me he’s about to have me committed.
Collecting my heartbeats in my throat, I come up with a quick and harmless lie, “I’m just having a hard time believing it’s all happening so soon. I need you to repeat it back to me so I know it’s true.”
His smile slowly grows on the right side of his mouth, and I want to sink my teeth into his dimple. “So, you’re having a pinch-me moment?” I nod, relieved he’s buying my perspective. “So, you know Bella Mae held off their sponsorship until you secured the Jansen account. But now that you know you landed them, they can’t wait to send you off. And you’re freaking out because you don’t speak the language, right?”
“Right,” I say slowly. It would seem my dreams are coming true in another life. I want to cry. I want to kick my old self for the life I gave up in the name of freedom. I look up at him. “Will you meet up with me at all?”
He cups my face in his hands. “We talked about this, Olivia.”
I hold my breath, praying he’ll over-explain, but he doesn’t. Instead, he gets out of bed, saying, “Let it be. You know it hurts every time we talk about it.”
I sit dumbfounded in bed as the shower turns on in the bathroom. I don’t join him. I throw the covers over my head and let the tears roll down my cheeks.
It’s all too overwhelming. It doesn’t feel like a dream. It feels like a miracle—like some burst of Christmas magic is working its way through the recesses of my mind and showing me everything I gave up. I’m convinced I’m going to run into one of the ghosts fromA Christmas Carol,and she will recount every single way I messed up my life and future.
I don’t know how long I’m under the covers before Colin returns to the room and peels the duvet from my face. He’s wearing a charcoal gray button-up dress shirt with a charcoal gray tie. The monochromatic palette matches his eyes, the sky, and my mood. Unrest whips through me. I don’t know how to do this—see the future or the present life I could be living, but most definitely am not. I’m the type of person who refuses to know the answer if asked if she’d like to know how and when she will die. I don’t want to dread the outcome. But here I am, in an apartment I almost lived in with a man whose heart I broke, finding out that my dreams are coming true, but at a cost.
It would seem I don’t get Colin in this world, either.
His expression turns to sadness as he registers my red, tear-soaked cheeks. He doesn’t hesitate to pull me into his arms, even though my tears will ruin his pressed shirt and turn his shoulder an even darker shade of gray.
“Don’t cry,” he says, a soft plea escaping his lips. “It’s your turn to shine, Olivia. I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked hard to get this, and I’m going to support you—every moment, every dream. Even if I’m going to miss you.” He pulls back, running his fingers through my wild hair and brushing a thumb over my cheek. I try and fail to smile. “I’m going to miss everything about you. The way you always have bed head on the right side of your head because you never sleep on your left side.” This warrants a small smile out of me—some things are true in every world.
He continues, “I’m going to miss the notes you leave on my toothbrush when you go to sleep before me, and I’m going to miss how you wake me up in the middle of the night to...” his voice trails off suggestively, and my cheeks warm. He brushes a gentle finger over my cheekbone. “I’m going to miss the jokes you tell after work and the sound of your voice walking through the door. But I’m not going to miss how you forget to unplug your curling iron almost every day and take your socks off under the covers.”
A small laugh bubbles out of me. “That’s reasonable. You shouldn’t sleep with socks.”
“Then you should take them off before you get into bed,” he argues.
His intense expression doesn’t waver. But mine does and I let out a laugh. I want to know every part of my life with Colin. I want to live it and feel it and know it. I want to breathe it in and let it fill my lungs. I want my heart to beat to this rhythm.
“I love you,” I say as if I can’t tell him enough. A part of me hopes that if I tell him here in this weird state of mind he’ll understand my regret and forgive me in my reality.
He kisses me softly. “Olivia, I will always love you, even if this is going to hurt.”
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IMANAGE TO GET TOmy office. Petra is waiting for me with a coffee and a huge smile on her face—too huge. Like she just got a puppy for Christmas, and she suspects it was from me.
“Everything is going according to plan!” she squeaks, hovering close to me as I take the coffee from her hand and make my way over to my desk. “You landed the account. Paris is booked. And...” she drums my desk for emphasis and my heart pounds with nerves. “They want you to take their product with you when you leave!”
Leave. That word again. I nod slowly absorbing as I sit in my chair.
Petra squints at me, tilting her chin down to look at me. “You should be more excited. Not only is Bella Mae going to sponsor your photography around the world but Jansen Enterprises is going to offer a stipend for each photo they use in their campaign.” She squeals again and I swallow a sip of coffee. It feels like acid burning down my throat.
