The Misfortunes of Lolita

18 | when lolita held

THIS IS AN UNEDITED AND SIGNIFICANTLY DIFFERENT VERSION OF THE MISFORTUNES OF LOLITA. I AM PUBLISHING IT IN FALL 2021—PLEASE FOLLOW ME ON IG @/ls.akhter and GOODREADS (L AKHTER) TO STAY UPDATED. I am so excited to share TMoL with you again.

CHAPTER 18

"How do you leave the love of your life?" - Lolita's writing journal.

Frank stared at Lolita.

That was all he could do.

The moon was up tonight, and the stars were outshined by its silver light, but he couldn't pay attention to the sky. He could only look at the girl in front of him - the girl who outshined them all, her hair messy and flying in the soft wind, her rosy lips parted, her eyes wild and unafraid. She stood a couple of feet away from him, but when she said that she loved him, he felt like she was in his arms.

He'd thought before that he'd know what to say. He'd thought that he'd know exactly how to react, because he was the one who had said that he loved her every day since the day he'd realized it.

And yet, now, in this moment, he could only stare.

"I-" he said again for the tenth time, he was sure.

He was an idiot.

"Shut up," she raised her hand, stepping closer. The anger in her voice never died down as she spoke. "Do you know how it's like to hear you say that you love me?"

"I don't," he thought he'd said that. Or maybe he'd just opened and closed his mouth like a stupid fish. He really didn't know.

Lolita looked at him. "I love you, Lolita - you just said it like it was that easy. Like you loved me, and I loved you, and everything was just that fucking simple."

"It is," he was sure he'd said it this time.

Apparently he had, because she responded. "It's not, goddammit."

"I love you," he said. "Do you believe me?"

"Yes," her voice was sharp, desperate. "That's the problem. I do. I do believe you, Frank. That's why it's not simple anymore."

She laughed then, a tear falling from the corner of her eye, tumbling down the slope of her cheek. She poked her index finger onto his chest unsteadily with each couple of words, and Frank stood immobile, watching her. "It's not simple, Frank. I love you, and you love me, and I'm leaving, and love fades away. Just. Like. That."

He grabbed her hand at his chest. "Lolita."

"I..." she let out a breath.

"I love you," he said. "Do you love me?"

"Yeah," her shoulders loosened, and her eyes dropped.

"Good," he said, ignoring the loud thumps inside his chest. The silver light of the moon mixed with the yellow hospital window lights had somehow made her eyes look brighter.

She was right, of course. It wasn't simple. It was fucked up and complicated and she was leaving him and he would stay here in this hell of a town, but that part, that part where Frank loved Lolita and Lolita loved Frank - that was simple.

She did then what he thought she'd never do again - she leaned closer, and dropped her head softly onto his shoulder, the anger draining out of her with her soft sigh. "I love you."

"Okay," his voice was soft when he spoke.

"I love you," her words almost got carried away by the wind, but he heard them somewhere inside his chest, where his heart had started to feel alive again. "I love you. I love you."