Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia #2) (35 page)

Trace’s leg bounced up and down restlessly as we waited to board the plane. I kind of wished I had some drugs to knock him out with. He was
that
worked up.

“Why aren’t they boarding yet?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“I don’t know,” I placed my hand on his knee to stop his shaking. “We still have a while until we’re supposed to leave.”

He buried his face in his hands and growled, causing more than one person to look our way. “God,” he groaned. “I should be
there!
Not here!”

I went to place my hand on his back, but he stood abruptly, pacing in front of the seats.

“Trace, you need to calm down. This isn’t solving anything,” I said in as soothing of a voice as I could manage. I was stressed and it was giving me a tension headache. It wouldn’t be long before I snapped at him and he didn’t need me giving him a hard time right now. What we needed was each other.

He paced back and forth in front of me a few more times before sitting down. He leaned his head back and stared at the plain white ceiling of the airport.

“This isn’t fucking fair,” he snapped.

“I know it’s not,” I took a deep breath, fighting tears as images of Gramps filled my mind. “But it’s
life
and life is never fair.”

“I feel like I need to smoke or something,” Trace announced. “And I don’t even smoke. I just…”

“You need something to take your mind off what’s happening. I understand,” I crossed my legs.

“What I need is to be there,” he whispered. “I should have never talked you into that fucking road trip. But I needed it…you know?” He waited for me to nod before he continued. “And I wanted you to meet your grandparents.”

“Trace,” I placed my hand over his where it rested on his leg, “we can’t dwell on the things we wish we could change. Besides, would you really want to undo our whole trip? We had some really great times.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” he admitted.

I cupped his cheek in my hand. “We’re going to get there in time.”

“How do you know?” He asked, tears swimming in his eyes.

“Because, he’s a Wentworth,” I forced a smile, repeating the words Trace told me often, “and he’s stubborn. He’s going to wait to say goodbye.”

“You’re right,” he forced a small smile.

About that time they called for us to line up for boarding. Trace heaved both of our duffel bags onto his shoulders.

He handed the lady our tickets and she motioned us through.

“First class, really?” I eyed him upon entering the plane.

“My mom bought the tickets,” he shrugged, taking the seat by the window.

I sat down beside him, buckling the seatbelt even though it would be awhile before the plane actually took flight.

Trace was still on edge, but he had calmed down a little bit since we got on the plane. I knew he wouldn’t feel better until we saw Gramps, and even then it wouldn’t ease the burden of knowing that Gramps was going to leave us very soon.

When we landed in Dulles it was almost ten at night. Trace’s mom was waiting for us in her white BMW SUV. She got out, hugging each of us. Her blue eyes were bloodshot with bags underneath. She kissed Trace’s cheek, but didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much that
anyone
could say to make this situation better.

Once we were seated in the back of the car, Lily said, “We’ll go straight to the hospital. He’s in a private room so no one can complain about it being too late for visitors.”

“How is he?” Trace asked shakily, reaching for my hand.

“He’s…he’s
dying
, Trace. So, not good,” she pinched the bridge of her nose as she pulled away from the curb. “He’s laughing and joking, but it’s not good.”

“He—he told us, a few weeks before we left, that—that he had cancer,” Trace admitted.

Lily’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “He told you, but not anyone else? Why would he do that? Your grandma is beside herself, clearly he hadn’t told her.”

“I guess he didn’t want you and Grammy fussing over him.” He rubbed his free hand nervously on the fabric of his jeans.

“Of course we would have fussed over him!” Lily exclaimed and I saw tears begin to stream out of her eyes. “He shouldn’t have been working so hard! He should have been home relaxing and trying to get better!”

“Mom,” Trace leaned forward from the backseat and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Gramps. Didn’t. Want. That.”

“I don’t care,” she wiped her eyes free of tears and looked over her shoulder before changing lanes. “I know he’s not my dad, but I feel like he is. He and your grandmother have always been there for me. Especially after Trey died.”

Trace looked at me and back at his mom. “I know none of us want to face reality, but the truth is, he’s going to die. Everyone dies. It’s not a matter of
if
it’s
when
. That doesn’t make it any easier to accept, but it’s the truth. I don’t want to lose Gramps,” his voice cracked. “But it’s inevitable.”

We all grew quiet after that. It took an hour and a half to make it to the hospital and when Lily parked the car my stomach plummeted. This was it.

I had never had to watch someone I loved wither away and die. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough for this, and I knew I needed to keep my head together for Trace.

We followed Lily into the hospital with our hands clasped together like we were the only things keeping the other person from falling apart.

I inhaled the sickening scent of alcohol and disinfectant, and images of my time in the hospital came flooding back to me. I pushed them aside though. I
couldn’t
think about that right now.

We ended up on the top floor of the hospital and Lily came to a stop in front of a closed wooden door.

“He’s probably sleeping, but at least you can see him,” she said. She hugged each of us and headed down the hall to where the waiting room was.

Trace looked down at me questioningly.

I nodded and he opened the door.

Gramps wasn’t sleeping. Instead, he was sitting up in the bed smiling widely at us. His skin was pale and gray in color. He’d lost weight since the last time I saw him and more wrinkles lined his face. But his eyes were exactly the same and the happiness that shone there almost brought me to my knees.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite person in the whole world and my shitty grandson.”

I laughed, despite feeling like I’d rather curl up in a ball and cry, and leaned my head on Trace’s shoulder. “He’s not that shitty. I kind of like him,” I smiled at Gramps as we stopped at the end of his bed.

“Come here, the both of you,” he opened his arms, “I’m not contagious. It’s not like you can catch cancer if I breathe on you.”

Only a Wentworth would crack jokes as he faced death.

Trace and I separated, standing with one of us on each side of the bed.

“I’ve missed you,” Gramps looked at us both.

“I’ve missed you
too
,” I started to cry, because I knew that in a matter of time I’d be missing him for the rest of my life. I would never forget Warren. I looked up at Trace, and my heart broke at the look of hopelessness in his eyes. One day, when we had kids, I was going to make sure they knew how remarkable their great-grandfather and grandpa had been. I had never met Trey, Trace’s dad, but I knew if he was anything like the rest of the family he was a special person and the world wasn’t nearly as beautiful of a place because he was gone.

“Don’t cry,” Gramps reached up shakily to wipe my tears away. “An old man like me doesn’t deserve your tears.”

“You deserve everything,” I sobbed, reaching down to hug his small frame.

I never wanted to let him go. A part of me was convinced that I could keep him alive by sheer will power.

I pulled away, wiping at my wet face. I don’t think I had ever cried this much or this hard in my whole life.

Gramps looked at me sadly and I blurted, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetie.” He looked up at Trace and took one of his hands as well as one of mine. “I hear you two went and got married without me.”

“Sorry, Gramps,” Trace mumbled, bowing his head in shame.

“Don’t be sorry,” Gramps repeated the same words he’d spoken to me. “I’m happy this one,” he squeezed my hand lightly, “is finally a true Wentworth… But I do have something to ask of you both.”

“Anything,” I gasped. “We’ll do anything you want.”

With a shaky breath, he explained, “I only have a few days left to live, and if it’s not too much to ask—” He became overwhelmed by a coughing fit and couldn’t continue for a moment. When he recovered, he said, “All I want is to see you walk down the aisle, Olivia. I want to watch you and my grandson exchange vows as you embark on the next step in your life. I know you were planning to have a ceremony where you exchanged rings in a few more weeks, but I won’t be around for that,” his hand tightened around mine. “Please, this is all I want.”

I glanced up at Trace and we both had the same look in our eyes. How could we not grant Gramps’ dying wish?

“Of course,” we said simultaneously.

“I’ll talk to Lily and see if we can move things up,” I croaked. You’d think eventually I’d run out of tears to cry but they kept flowing. “We’ll do whatever it takes,” I promised.

“I know you will, sweetie,” he craned his neck, trying to kiss my cheek. I lowered my head and his papery lips pressed softly against my skin. I was surprised by how cold his lips were.

“Gramps, there’s something I need to tell you,” Trace started.

I looked over at him and released Gramps’ hand. “I’ll step out and talk with your mom.”

“No!” He cried. “No,” he said in a softer tone. “I need you here too. You should hear this.”

“What’s going on?” I tilted my head to the side as I looked at him.

“Let’s sit down and get comfortable.” Trace was already pulling a chair up to the side of Gramps’ bed.

I eyed him nervously, but sat down. I took Gramps’ cool hand into mine once more.

“What is it?” Gramps asked, eyeing Trace questioningly. “You look like you’re going to throw up. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it is. Spit it out, boy.”

Trace took a deep breath. “I don’t want to take over the company, Gramps. I
can’t
be a CEO. It won’t make me happy and I refuse to be miserable for the rest of my life. I’m sorry. I really am. I
tried.
But it’s not for me. I hate to disappoint you,” he wiped away tears, “but I have to do what’s right for me.”

Gramps let out a sigh of relief and then began to laugh hysterically. “It’s about damn time you grew a pair and told me,” he chortled. “I would’ve never let you take the company, knowing you hated it.
But
I wanted you to come to that decision yourself.”

“You mean—” Trace started but Gramps cut him off.

“Yes, I knew you hated it. I’ve known this life wouldn’t be for you since you were a small boy. No matter what you do, I’ll always be proud of you. When I’m gone, I’ll be smiling down on you from above, proud to call you my grandson…even if your hard headedness drives me crazy.”

“I love you,” Trace sobbed, standing and kicking the chair back as he hugged Gramps.

I watched them hug each other, two generations of Wentworth’s, and it killed me that Gramps was leaving us. Why did he have to get cancer? Why did he have to die? It wasn’t fair!

I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to get out of the hospital room. I opened the door and fled down the hall as far and as fast as my feet would carry me. I hadn’t made it far when I collapsed onto the floor, sobbing hysterically. I rested my back against the wall and drew my knees up. Burying my face in my hands, I let myself cry. Not just a few tears, but a torrent of them. I let them cleanse me and try to heal the pain I felt inside. But I knew I could never really be healed. There would always be a hole in my heart where my love for Gramps was held and so brutally cut out.

Someone sat down beside me and arms wrapped around me. Trace’s scent enveloped me and I grasped his shirt in my hands.

My tears were waning and anger was replacing sadness.

“It isn’t fair,” I smacked his solid chest as hard as I could, like this was his fault. “Why? Tell me why, he has to die. This isn’t right. He doesn’t deserve this,” I cried, hitting him repeatedly with the sides of my fists. I had never felt anger like this before, not even after Aaron tried to kill me.

Trace didn’t say anything as I hit him. When my fists fell to my sides, he pulled me onto his lap and rested his chin on top of my head.

“Life is never fair,” he whispered, “and it really fucking sucks.”

I clung to his shoulders, getting tears on his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind.

He ran his fingers through my hair in an effort to soothe me.

When I was calmed down, I laid a hand over his heart. “I’m sorry for hitting you,” I whispered, ashamed of myself. “I shouldn’t have done that.” My hair fell around me to conceal my face.

“It’s okay. I understand. I feel like punching a wall, so I get it,” he pressed his lips lightly against my forehead.

“Did you really mean what you told Gramps? You’re not going to take over the business?”