Chapter Twenty-Four

I spend the next day dealing with my hangover, which is better than dealing with everything else. The girls leave after brunch, also hungover. Once they're gone I grab my bottle of water and jump back on the bed, which I haven't made since the last time Luc slept here. His T-shirts are still here, I should probably return them to him. I fish them out from under the pillow and sniff them before I do that. There's probably a malfunction with my nose, because how does he smell like sex all the time?

I cover my face with one of his T-shirts. I stay way too long like this, searching for answers, thinking of possibilities, wondering about consequences, pondering my next steps. All the while taking in his scent.

It's like he knows I'm thinking of him, because right then I get a message.

Today at 2:58 pm

Immune to tickles: I thought this might be helpful in case you want to press charges against him.

It's a video from Josh when he's jerking my arm, my body lurching with violent motion. It looks even worse than it felt at the moment. I can't believe Luc got this on camera.

Me: Wow. Thank you for that.

Immune to tickles: No problem, I hope you can use it somehow.

I could. I now definitely have proof against Josh and he didn't even need to leave another mark on my face. It's probably proof enough to at least file for a restraining order to keep him away from me isn't it? The question is, do I have the courage to do it this time?

I stop for a moment and stare at the ceiling, with the phone placed over my heart. Then I remember I've been wanting to know something Luc never got to tell me.

Me: Can I ask you something?

Immune to tickles: Yes

Me: When I told you how I pictured us, you said it wasn't how you did. How did you picture us?

Immune to tickles is typing …

Two minutes later I hear a knock on my door. My heart takes a leap. Traitor. I push Luc's T-shirts aside and head for the door. When I open it I find him with his forearm propped on the door frame, his forehead pressed against it. His eyes immediately lock with mine.

‘Together,' he says.

For a moment I have no idea what he means by that, I'm too distracted trying to divert my eyes from the indecent Calvin Klein waistband showing. His joggers are hanging too low on his hips, and … goddamn it, why is he shirtless and barefooted? Then I quickly realise it's his answer to my question.

‘I pictured us together. Cooking, eating popcorn, running, getting to know each other, travelling, sleeping together, making love,' he says it with such calm I envy him, because on my side, I feel everything but stable.

I lean my head on the half open door and watch him for a moment. I have no idea what to say to that, I never imagined he would be so straightforward.

‘Come with me tomorrow, to the match,' he says, filling in the silence.

I smirk, because this is so not a possibility for me.

‘I'm serious, Olivia. I know it's too much to ask of you right now.'

Too much to ask is an understatement.

‘Yes, it is,' I say.

‘I also know I fucked up by not telling you who I am. I know now how much it hurt you, and I don't ever want to hurt you again,' he says.

Seeing the hurt and hope in his eyes makes my whole body ache.

‘But you will, Luc. There's no such thing as not hurting someone. Eventually we'll hurt each other,' I say.

‘I never said it won't happen, I just said I never want to. We're not perfect, we'll make mistakes. As long as we're there for each other and trust each other, we'll make it work.'

‘How can I ever trust you?'

‘I'll fight for your trust, no matter what.'

I sigh. What is he trying to tell me? What does he want?

‘Last night—' he says, then swallows before continuing. ‘Last night I was about to tell you something before your friends arrived.'

I almost forgot about that. I wait for him to continue.

‘Whether you forgive me or not, whether you want to be with me or not, it doesn't change how I feel. I want to be with you more than anything,' he says.

Here's your chance to give him a chance, Olivia.

I stay silent for too long, hearing my heartbeats echoing in my head. Would it be too crazy to tell him yes? Would it be too stupid to tell him no? I don't know. Why is it so hard for me to open my heart? Why is it so difficult to believe a relationship can work?

Then as I watch him there, standing in front of me, saying things any woman would like to hear and believe in, Josh's words come to my mind like a hurricane, wiping everything out with it. Relationships with stars never last too long. Why would ours be different?

He's waiting for me to say something and I can tell it's killing him, because he has narrowed his eyes and creased his forehead as if in pain. I shake my head and just like that I decide my heart should remain protected.

‘I have something for you,' I say.

I turn around and go to my room and leave him at the door. When I come back he's still at the same spot, the same way I left him, only he's looking at my hands, where I'm holding his T-shirts. I give them to him, he almost doesn't take them, and when he does, it's as though he's accepted defeat.

‘So I guess this is goodbye then?' he says.

It hurts, it hurts way more than I expected it would. The word goodbye is lingering in the air between us, making my aching heart beg me to change my mind. But I'd like to believe that it hurts less now than it would hurt later if I decided to give him my heart. Sometimes, the heart doesn't know what's best for it.

I nod. Because I can't bring myself to say it aloud.

‘What are you so afraid of, Olivia?'

‘What makes you think I'm afraid?'

‘Because I know you are, I can tell by the way your eyes are looking at me right now, and how hard you're fighting not to take one more step closer to me.'

What?

‘And right now you're trying to find excuses not to be happy,' he says.

‘What are you talking about? I'm not making excuses. You lied to me—'

‘And I have apologised. Because yes, I was selfish. I am selfish, because of what I do. I always put myself first, I have to. But with you, Olivia, I want to be selfless.'

Why isn't his apology enough?

He's breathing so hard the ridges on his stomach are contracting strong and fast.

‘This, us, it can never work, Luc.' I fold my arms across my chest to avoid fidgeting with my fingers in front of him.

‘And how do you know that if you don't even want to try?'

‘I don't need to, this has been all wrong from the first moment,' I say through gritted teeth. He might have hit a nerve.

‘You see how afraid you are?'

Why is he doing this?

‘I'm not afraid.'

‘Now say that looking me in the eyes and convince me,' he says.

‘Damn it Luc, just leave it,' I hiss.

He hesitates for a second, and says, ‘You know, I'm not him. I'll never hurt you like he did. Just, remember that.' Now he sounds angry.

I close my eyes, taking in the pain of hearing him say those words. I don't reply. I just watch him hurt like the devil I am. Sometimes I wonder how my heart still manages to beat when it's surrounded by so many layers of iron.

He stands there for one more second, his eyes not wanting to leave mine, maybe still hoping I change my mind.

Once he fully gives up and turns to leave, I say, ‘Good luck tomorrow. I know how much this match means to you.'

He doesn't even look back when he says, ‘Goodbye, Olivia,' as he begins to climb up the stairs back to his apartment. Is this the last time I'm seeing him do this?

One day this man will belong to one lucky bitch. He will ask her, too, whether she wants to fuck or make love, he will take her to fancy private dinners, she will get to meet his family and see his home, she will get to travel with him and cheer for him during his matches, they will celebrate his wins together, he will cook his grandma's recipe and tell her the same story about its secret, only this girl will get to have that recipe and he will marry her. He will declare his love for her in front of everyone, and I will be reading about it on the news.

Will I be wondering what would it have been like if I said yes to us? Or will I be smiling and thinking how he deserved to find someone that has a place for him in her life?