Olivia (63 page)

“
In our time together, you showed
me what it was like to be special, hand-picked, chosen, loved,
needed and wanted. I feel like I did the same, but I realize my
actions last June undid a lot of that–if not all of it. Believe me
when I tell you that I still want you, need you, love you, and
choose you. You and only you. Regardless of what I did in those
brief seconds, you are the only one who’s ever had my heart. It
still beats–no, it pounds uncontrollably, until it aches–for
you.

“
I don’t believe that you don’t
want me anymore. I refuse to believe that I’m not ‘Choisie’ to you
anymore.

“
In the final painting–Reunion–you
return this token to me. In hopes of making this painting the last
of the memories of our past, I’m giving it back to you.

“
But I want it back. For good,
this time.

“
I promise to be better for you,
this time. Every time. In the future. Forever.

“
These paintings are all of the
moments that brought us to where we are now. Hopefully, we’ll be
able to reflect on these as a time of discovery. These were times
spent learning who we were as individuals, and deciding whether or
not we were meant to be as a couple.

“
We were, Jon. We are. There’s no
one else. I choose you. I want our future to be our always. I want
all of the memories going forward to be ones we can remember
together, Jon. I want them to be pictures in a photo album that we
can look at as we grow older. I don’t want them to bring us pain.
I’ve worked through the pain with every brush stroke and every
color. Even the happiest moments I’ve painted make me ache with
remorse.

“
I’ve accomplished what I set out
to do. I painted a stunning series that reflects me and you,
together. There were days when it hurt so bad, I wanted to quit,
but I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I wasn’t finished
yet.”

After swiping away the relentless tears, I finally
repeat the words I’d said to him in every message all summer long.
At some point, I had to convince him of their truth.

“
We aren’t finished.”

As I’d done with every note before this one, I take
a small brush and moisten it with a little paint from the most
recent piece of art. The last color I’d used was dark blue, on
Jon’s shirt. In the bottom right corner of the card, I smear a
little of the paint.

Before it dries, I grab another tool and etch my
name into the pigment.

“
Olivia”

It only takes a few minutes to dry. I could have
made it home by curfew if I’d left then, but I wait until eleven
before I start to lock up. I hadn’t given up on him. I’d told him
I’d be here until then.

“
No one came by?” I ask the night
doorman on my way out.

“
Not this evening, Miss Holland,
no.”

I nod my head and try to hide my disappointment. He
calls the valet for my car. When I get in, I don’t head home. I go
north, driving toward Columbia where I know he is. He and Fred had
the same dorm room. He’d told me that last spring; he was excited
about it.

In the parking lot, tents and booths are set up, and
hundreds of students are milling about. I circle the campus a few
times, looking for a place nearby to park. I finally find a spot
and check myself in the vanity mirror before getting out of my
car.

I take a deep breath, feeling like a kid walking on
their campus.
In three days, I’ll be a college
student myself.
Some of these people are my age, and
recognizing that, I’m able to wander the gathering relatively
unnoticed. I look at everyone, just hoping to see Jon or Fred.

Music plays loudly from a few large speakers. Some
of the men and women are dancing close by, and I figure Jon
wouldn’t be around them. I keep walking, past the noise, past the
bulk of the tents, until I reach a small park area. Students are
seated on benches, on the grass, and on lawn chairs, talking. I see
Frederick first, as he faces me. Even though Jon’s hair has grown
out, I know the shape of his head. I know his posture. I know the
tattoo that peeks out beneath the sleeveless shirt he’s wearing on
this hot night.

I suddenly forget how to breathe, and stop walking
in an effort to compose myself. Jon’s roommate’s gaze finally meets
mine, and he nods in my direction, saying something to Jon that I
can’t hear. He turns around slowly, then looks away quickly when he
sees me. He waits a few agonizing seconds before standing from his
chair and walking over to me.

“
What are you doing here?” he asks.
There’s no sign of relief or joy on his face. He looks
annoyed.

“
I have this for you,” I tell him,
holding out the envelope that’s fully addressed to him. He takes it
and taps it against his palm a few times.

“
Thanks.”

“
Jon,” I say as I grasp his shirt,
“we need to talk.”

He wraps his hand around mine, pulling it from his
clothing and dropping it gently.

“
Go home, Liv.”

“
Will you read it?” I ask him. He
shrugs his shoulders. “Have you read any of them?”

“
I had a busy summer,” he states
evenly.

“
Oh.”

“
Go home, Liv. Freshman move-in day
isn’t for another few days.”

“
Right,” I say.

“
Where’d you park?” he asks, taking
my elbow in his hand and guiding me away from the crowd.

I can’t even find a voice to answer him. I just walk
in the direction toward my car, feeling his grip on me lessen every
few steps, as if he can’t wait to let go.

By the time we get there, I’m having a hard time not
falling apart. I clamp my jaw shut so tightly that it starts to
hurt. My heart is pounding. I can’t catch my breath like this.

“
I thought we could talk,” I tell
him honestly. “I thought you could start to forgive me.”

“
Here,” he says, pulling me into
him and wrapping his arms around me. One hand massages the nape of
my neck, and unstoppable tears wet his shirt. “It can’t be like it
was, Liv. I’ve changed. Go home,” he says, this time
softer.

I look up at him through my matted lashes, wanting
him to kiss me. I know it’s not coming. I simply nod to him as he
starts to let go. “I–”

He puts a finger over my mouth to stop me. “Go home,
Livvy.” His tone is more commanding. I can tell he doesn’t want to
talk tonight.

“
Please read them,” I say as I get
into the car. “Read them all.”

“
I’ll try,” he says as he shuts the
door. I roll the window down quickly after starting the
car.

“
Do you promise?” I ask him. He
puts his hand on the door, and I place mine on top of his. He
glances down, no doubt seeing the ring I haven’t taken off. It was
another promise he’d made. I wanted him to keep that
promise.

“
I guess I’ll see you around,” he
says casually, taking his hand from mine and beginning to walk
away.

“
No,” I respond. He turns around,
his brows raised as he waits to hear what I have to say. “I’ll be
at Yale.” He opens his mouth to say something, but I want to be the
first to say it. “Goodbye, Jon.”

“
Yeah,” he says, looking a little
confused. “Bye, Livvy.”

I try to stay calm on the way back to the house. I
dig my fingernails into my leg, trying to distract myself. I turn
up the music until I think the speakers might burst. I pay close
attention to the traffic around me, but nothing I do can take away
the image of him telling me goodbye.

And he didn’t promise to read my letters. That was
all I’d asked... but he made it clear that he couldn’t make me that
promise... which means he probably wasn’t going to keep the others
he’d made to me, either.

My parents are waiting at the door when I come in. I
slip past them, not caring that I’m late for curfew and not wanting
to talk to them. Dad follows me down the stairs and stops me from
shutting my bedroom door in his face. He hands me a tissue and sits
down on my bed as I curl up on my side, letting the tears flow.

“
What is it, Contessa?”

“
I can’t talk about it,” I tell him
as I roll over on the bed, away from him. He rubs my back softly,
letting me cry. I know he expects me to stop, but I can’t. Five
minutes later, he hasn’t moved, and the tears haven’t
lessened.

“
Did you finish today?”

“
Yeah,” I admit softly.

“
That’s something to be proud of,
Livvy. Donna would be proud,” he says. I sniffle a few times and
roll back over so I can see the completed portrait of Granna that
hangs across the room. I’m sure she’d be proud of the painting. I
know she’d be saddened by Jon. “Is that why you’re upset,
sweetheart?”

“
No.”

“
Is it because of the deal we
made?”

“
Kind of.” The deal was that when I
finished this project, I had to try to move on. I had to accept
that I’d done what I could, and I had to move on with my life. It
seemed fair two months ago, but I thought Jon and I would have
sorted things out by now.

“
You’ve done your part, Livvy. He
has to take it from here. You have to give him the space to do
that.”

“
Two thousand miles away from me
wasn’t enough space?”

“
You sent him three letters a week,
honey.”

“
I don’t think he read a single
one,” I admit.

“
How do you know?”

“
Daddy, he came home
today.”

“
Olivia So–”

“
Before you get mad, he didn’t come
to the loft. I invited him, but he didn’t. I waited until eleven,
but he didn’t come.” Dad checks his watch. “I went to Columbia to
give him the last letter.”

“
Did you see him?”

I nod as a few more tears fall. “But he didn’t want
to see me.” Instinctively, I reach up for the pendant that’s
normally around my neck, but my fingers find nothing but skin.

“
Where is it?” he asks.

“
I gave it back to him.”

“
I know it was hard, but it was the
right thing to do.”

“
How can you say that? If it was
Mom, you never would have given up.” 

“
Given up? No. But I gave
her
up, honey. You know the story...” he
says softly. “In college, after we first met, I was ready to offer
her anything–I had nothing at the time–but I felt so strongly for
her that I knew my feelings would be enough.

“
She never gave me the chance,
though.”

“
Well, Uncle Chris stopped
you.”

“
Regardless... it wasn’t our time.
And we both went on with our lives. I think it just made everything
that much sweeter when we finally found each other again. I’d met
other people. I knew what else was out there. I knew what we had
was something extraordinary.”

“
But I know what Jon and I have is
extraordinary.”

“
It does you no good if he doesn’t
feel the same.”

“
But I know he does,” I plead with
him.

Dad shakes his head slowly, putting his hand on my
shoulder. “He has to figure that out on his own. You’ve done your
part to convince him. You had your time. Now give him his.”

“
I was chosen, Daddy,” I tell him.
“He picked me.”

“
Not every choice can be forever,
Livvy. A few are,” he says. “The choice Emi and I made the day we
met you–that’s forever. You will always be the best decision we
ever made. But you know what this means for you?”

“
No,” I tell him.

“
You get to make the choices now.
You’re going to college, you’ll be away from us... and you get to
start making the decisions that make you happy. We’ll always be
here to help, but this isn’t a bad thing, Contessa.”

I smile a little at him, wiping my eyes.

“
So, what’s it gonna be?” he asks
casually. Once again I look at the painting of Granna. I’d started
over, painted over the original portrait because the memory I had
of her was so much clearer than even the picture I’d been using as
a template. She was strong, self-assured and assuring. She was
loving. And above all, she was always happy. Through so much
tragedy, she was happy with life. The smirk she wears in the
painting is one I saw often. It was a challenging look, one that
compelled me to look deeper into myself. It was one that helped to
show me who Livvy Holland really was. Who she
is
.

“
I’m going to be happy,” I state
with conviction, pushing myself up and straightening my posture. I
take the ring off of my finger and tuck it in the back of my
nightstand drawer.

I take a deep breath and sigh with relief. Dad’s
smile is big as he pulls me into a hug. “Good choice.”

The Mourning After
-
additional chapters from the days following Livvy and Jon’s night
in Mykonos

Handouts and Handcuffs
-
alternate point of view that takes place after Jon finds out the
Hollands paid for his mother’s rehab in Chapter 16 of Olivia

Spring Break
- alternate
point of view that begins at the airport when Jon and Livvy return
from their spring break destinations in Chapter 21 of Olivia