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“Thought I would share.” Honestly, I’d still rather be at home, but the part of me that feels like a dick for hurting Olivia has me rooted here instead.
“I’ll grab some drinks and napkins.”
While she does that, I place the rest of my things in the nearby chair and sit next to her vacant spot. Olivia returns, presses play, and we begin to watch some TV series on Netflix, eating in silence. Even though there is noise coming from the show, the silence is making me uncomfortable. She may be able use her see-into-my-soul shit on me, but I have no kind of radar or emotion detector when it comes to her.
“What is this?”
“One Tree Hill, season one, episode three. Have you ever watched it?”
I shake my head, finishing off the last bite of my slice. If I’m going to be watching some show with her, I might as well get comfortable. As soon as she finishes her pizza, I lay an arm around her shoulders and tuck her into my side.
Olivia runs a finger up and down my knee during the next episode, and I wonder if she can feel the raised skin of my scar from my surgery beneath the fabric of my pajama pants. Based on the words coming out of her mouth, I’m going with a yes.
“I know you miss it, but what was your favorite thing about football, aside from the game itself?” Her voice is tentative, but strong.
“Olivia,” I start, about to shut this train down.
“No. You’re talking, Corey. I may have forgiven you for being a jerk earlier, but I haven’t forgotten it. So, we’re talking about something.”
“Fine.” I look away from her to the TV while I think. Besides playing, what do I miss? Everything. I miss all of it. She probably rather have me narrow it down and eventually, I have an answer. “I miss always having something to do and always having someone to do it with. I miss my brothers too.”
“What do you mean? About your brothers?”
“They were my teammates too. We worked out, we studied and did homework, we played, we talked about the games and practices, and we hung out together. We don’t do any of that now.” My voice drops as I add with a sigh, “I’m too broken.”
She grabs my chin and makes me look at her. “Stop saying that. You are not broken. Makes it sound like you can’t be put back together.” Her tone is full of authority and a declaration.
“Then what am I?”
My question catches her off guard, but she doesn’t shy away from answering. “You fell, got hurt, and you’re having trouble healing so you can’t stand back up. But you will stand up again, Corey.”
I allow her words to rack around
in my mind before letting them sink in completely. Maybe I can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel yet. It doesn’t matter whether I can or not. What matters is that Olivia is standing in the tunnel with me, holding an extra torch as I try and find my way out.
“Thanks,” I murmur, kissing her temple.
She’s quiet for a bit before she says, “Can I ask you something?”
I chuckle. “When have you ever asked for permission?”
Her question must be serious because she only gives me a small smile. “What does it feel like knowing that your siblings don’t really get it? That’s why you don’t tell them, right? Because you think they don’t understand it enough? Would you talk to them if they did?”
My head shakes as an automatic answer. I have to think of a response before I can verbally reply, though. “No, I wouldn’t. I’m grateful and I love that you understand me enough, but sometimes, it feels like it’s a burden too. My siblings and I, we want things to be okay with all of us all the time. And if they aren’t, we want to fix it immediately. That’s not an option with me and I don’t want to put that kind of weight on them.
“It sucks that they don’t understand, but at the same time, I’m really glad because it means they haven’t experienced something like this. I wouldn’t ever want them to have to go through this, just for me to have a talking buddy.” Like a clap of thunder, I realize everything I don’t wish upon my siblings, Olivia has been through. She was a bystander for someone suffering, but that’s all she’s said. “Olivia,” I begin, not sure I want to know, “who was it? The person you knew?”
Her face pales, causing my gut to twist and churn with nerves. She leans away from me, glancing down at her hands and then back to me. “I’m going to sound like such a hypocrite,” she starts. “I don’t want to talk about that with you yet, so please don’t make me. I promise I will, but not tonight.”
“Okay,” I quickly agree. She’ll keep her promise, I’m certain, and I’m okay with waiting.
Olivia excuses herself to the restroom and I lie down, stretching out along the couch with a throw pillow behind my head. She doesn’t even bat an eye when she comes back, just crawls to lie on her stomach on me, her legs between mine. We watch a few more episodes. I have to force myself to stop thinking about who it could have been. Luckily, I think, Olivia decides we need to talk some more.
She lifts her head and places her hands on my chest before resting her chin on top of them. “I really think you should see a therapist.”
“That’s what I have you for, remember?”
“Yeah, but what if there’s something you want to talk about, but not to me? Or what if you need to talk about me? A therapist can help you more. And you’ve gotten better at talking.”
