💕Is This Love?💕

Part 5

I liked being able to just talk to
her like this. Sure, I had my secrets. I was a pretty private person. But when I was with America, I had less of a filter than I had even with my mother. There were always cameras in my life, always people I had to impress. I always had to be perfect, I could never just say what was on my mind. But when I was with her, I could just be me. And that was good enough for her.

"It's nice to say things out
loud. I'm always watching what I say. I feel like no one can hear me up here, I guess. Just you," I said. She took advantage of me saying that. "Then go ahead and say anything," she smiled. I gave her a little smirk and replied, "Only if you will." "Fine," she answered. "Well what do you want to know?" I asked.

She wiped the wet hair off her
forehead, saying, "Did you really not know about the diaries?" Of course she would ask about that first. "No. But I'm up to speed now. Father made me read them all. If August had come two weeks ago, I would have thought he was lying about everything, but not anymore. It's shocking, America. You only scratched the surface with what you read. I want to tell you about it, but I can't yet." It made me a little upset. Here she is, asking me such an easy question, and I can't even answer her fully. I wanted her to know everything. "I understand," she replied, though she did seem a little disappointed.

Now what should I ask her?
There were so many things I wanted to know, but I didn't want to scare her off. I wanted to ask if she loved me, if she still wanted me, but I knew she wouldn't want me to pry. I also didn't want her to feel like I was forcing this decision on her. I wanted her to tell me freely, when she felt ready. I decided to start with something that didn't have much to do with her feelings.

"How did the girls find out
about you taking off my shirt?" I asked. She looked at the ground, hesitating. "We were watching the guards work out. I said you looked as good as any of them without your shirt on. It slipped out."

I had to laugh at that. Of all the
things she did, she thought I'd be mad about that? If anything, it made me love her more. As long as my secret was safe. "I can't be mad about that." I chuckled again. She smiled. "Have you ever brought anyone else up here?" she asked.

Oh, I didn't like that question. I
wanted this to be our thing. "Olivia. One time, that's it," I said sadly. She thought about that for a second. I realized even though it made me uncomfortable, it felt good to get that off my chest. I needed to tell her everything. That was the only way we could move forward.

"I kissed Kriss," I blurted out,
not making eye contact. Hopefully that way, she wouldn't see me blush. "Recently. For the first time," I continued. "It only seems right that you should know." She nodded, taking it better than I expected. I looked down, ashamed of myself. It didn't feel right. When I was with America, all I wanted was her. When I was with the others I couldn't help but think about America. She never left my mind. Even when I was with Kriss, part of my mind was still on America. I guessed it would always be like that.

"I hate dating you this way,"
she fidgeted, her dress getting heavy with water. "I know. It's just how it is," I replied. It made me sad again that I couldn't just give her what she wanted: a normal relationship. "Doesn't make it fair," she said. I laughed. "When has anything in either of our lives ever been fair?" She gave me that.

She looked like she was trying
to find a way to say something, but she was tense. After a few seconds of debating, she spoke hesitantly, "I'm not supposed to tell you—and if you let on that you know, he'll get worse, I'm sure—but . . . your father's been saying things to me. He also took away the payments for my family. None of the other girls has them anymore, so I guess it looked bad anyway." That made me so mad. If my father could do horrible things to the person I love, if he could do horrible things to me, how was he allowed to be in charge of a country? There was no way to stop him. I guess, as long as he wasn't physically hurting her, I shouldn't get involved. That would only make things worse.

"I'm sorry," I said, looking over
the city. "I don't think there's a way to undo that one America." This was eating away at me. I wished I could spoil her. I wished I could give her everything she wanted. But she took me even with those flaws, the things I came with. The things I held her back from. The responsibility. It made me happy that she still wanted me after all that.

"You don't have to. I just
wanted you to know it was happening. And I can handle it," she said. It reminded me about what she said about girls crying. Most of the time they don't want you to fix a problem, they just want you to tell them it'll be okay. This was the same thing, she didn't want me to fix it, she just wanted me to know.

"You're too tough for him. He
doesn't understand you," I told her. I reached for her hand, and she held it willingly. I looked at her. Happy with me, even with all of my flaws. Happy even with the little things. Seeing her happy made me happy, so I think if she was always this way I would have a great life with her. That's what I wanted. A life with her.