Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
So, Oliver noticed the change, too. The wheels churned in my head, pieces stitching together.
I sighed, rubbing Ollie’s shoulder. “You took him to a plastic surgeon.”
“I wanted to see if we could reconstruct his face. Give him some of his confidence back.”
I didn’t point out what we both knew – that Sebastian would never be the same. His face would never be the perfect sculpture it once was. The doctor could graft skin, implant cartilage or silicone or whatever, reconstruct his lips, but the evidence of his horrific accident would still be there.
They couldn’t completely erase the scars that slashed across his face. There would be signs, and people that once knew him would spot the difference between Old Seb and New Seb. He’d live with the stigma of his past forever.
“He lost it there, Cuddlebug.” Ollie shook his head, staring at an imaginary spot behind my shoulder. “He simply lost it. Screamed at the doctor, intimidated a nurse, tossed a chair against a wall. It was bad.”
I swallowed my gasp with a gulp, pressing my lips together in a tight seal.
“I’m at the end of my wits, Briar.” Oliver stuck his fingers inside his hair, tugging hard. “I can’t do this anymore. He doesn’t want to get better.”
“You can’t force him. It doesn’t work that way.”
Sebastian’s journey was his own. Rushing him would only have the opposite effect. Recovery doesn’t shout. It whispers – and it needs time to be heard.
“I know.” Oliver ran his knuckles over his stubble. “But I thought maybe … since you two seemed to be getting along …” He froze, realizing his mistake.
My spine stiffened. He knew about me visiting Seb?
I pulled my legs to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. “Ollie?”
He raised a shoulder. “I caught you once and eavesdropped. You got him to eat pizza. Watch Family Guy. Crack jokes.” He paused, his lips casting a miserable smile. “I heard him laugh for the first time in fifteen fucking years.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I figured Seb told you not to tell me. He thinks I’ll see him do normal things and take it as an invitation to push him out of his cave.”
I sent him a glare that screamed, duh.
Oliver slapped his own forehead. “He was right, wasn’t he?”
“He’s not ready. Rushing him will only make him clam up more.”
“I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me.” Oliver let his head fall into his palms. “Sometimes, I wonder why I even try.”
“Because you love him.” I drew circles on his back, trying to comfort him. “You’re happiest when the people you love are happy. That’s who you are. You won’t stop until you see Sebastian smile again. Every day, not just for a moment because I managed to distract him with my incomparable charm.”
Oliver snorted. “You are incomparably charming.”
“I am, aren’t I?”
We smiled at each other, and it was a sad, sobering smile, because I realized, in this moment, that Oliver von Bismarck and I didn’t stand a chance.
What I loved most about Oliver – what I’d always loved the most – was his willingness to sacrifice his own happiness for the people he loved. If I asked him to choose me, I’d be asking him to become someone else.
He needed to stay here for Sebastian.
I needed to choose myself for once.
These were the right decisions, so why did they feel so wrong?
Oliver pawed my face, meeting my forehead with his. “I know I’m still drunk off my ass, and this is probably taking the sting out of this impending love declaration, but fuck, I love you.” He closed his eyes, breathing heavy. “I love you so damn much, Briar. Sometimes, it’s hard to fucking breathe when you’re gone.”
An anchor pinned down my heart. I soaked in his words – his love – knowing they didn’t change our situation. We would have to part ways. Sebastian’s relapse required Oliver’s care, and my movie started shooting in two and half weeks.
Oliver’s hands bracketed my face. He breathed me in. “The only thing holding me together today, when I wrestled Seb into the elevator, was the knowledge that I’d see you at the end of the day. You make existing in the shadow of his tragedy bearable. With you, I think I can survive this.”
But I didn’t want Oliver to survive. I wanted him to live.
I rubbed my nose against his.
“I love you, too,” I whispered, and my heart broke because I meant it, and he was beautiful, and I would never get enough of the boy who held me when no one else would, and still, it changed nothing. “I never stopped. No matter how hard I tried. No matter how thoroughly I convinced myself I despised you. I never did.”
There are two types of love – one fades, the other consumes. The endless fire is the one that burns, and few can survive the flames.