"Say my name," he whispered on the top of my lips while digging his fingers into my hips as he hoisted me up. I wrapped my legs around his torso.
"Harry," I uttered.
"You and I both know. That. Is. Not. My name," he said between the kisses that he...
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OLIVIA'S POV
I've become a zombie. Usually I never stay in routine, or at least Harry kept me from doing so. But I've fallen into a routine that I hate, because I can't do any of the things I love without remembering the one I love.
I'd wake up, but I tend to fall back asleep and dream of him. I'd eat, never much. I'd sit in the balcony but it would always become to much so I've resorted to not going out anymore. I'd shower, not long. Because if I stayed in long all the heated memories would arise. I'd sit with the kids and try to not be dead for a minute. Then I'd eat again and go to sleep with the kids cuddled up in my arms. And then it'd all start again when I wake up with the same reoccurring nightmare.
"Do you want anything to eat?" Anne asked as she stood in the kitchen.
"No thank you," I smiled. "I had Clarissa whip me up something earlier," I lied straight through my strained smile that looks so real because it's been trained to perfection. You'd think the fakest diamond were real if it were me.
"Mmm, so how have you been doing?"
"Eh, I've been better."
About a week after Harry left, Anne decided it would be best if she went back to the UK. Gemma took Harry's advice and broke up with Cole and moved to Georgia. She said that she always wanted to see a live peach tree and that was the place to do it. Ian and Matt went back to New York. They claimed that California had been full of sorrow for them ever since the time I went missing and now they've just had enough. Shawn, well, I haven't seen or heard from him in a while. The last time we spoke he said something about boarding a plane with a nice girl. I hope he's happy, to be honest he deserves it. I knew he was still in love with me; I can't imagine what that would do to a person. To watch someone you love be completely in love with another. And Bryce, I got a restriction order against him. He caught me one day crying and tried to comfort me. Then he began insisting that the only way to 'forget Harry' was to bed with another. Oh, you should've seen the rage that day.
"It'll get a little easier, Olivia. Day by day one step at a time the wound that's in your heart will start to fill. And you'll find yourself living a wonderful life."
I'm aware that she lost her son just as I lost my husband. I understand that she only wants to help, but I don't need her help. I don't need her mumbo jumbo bull about slowly healing to live a wonderful life. She's insinuating that eventually I'll be living happily without her son. But that's not what I want. Because living without her son, living without my husban, was no living at all.
"I can send you to a retreat that has really been helping me, I can-"
"Look Anne, I know your only trying to help, really I do, but right now I don't wanna go on a retreat to get accustomed to living without my husband," I could feel my blood start to boil with a mixture of fear, heartbreak, and anger. Anne's intentions were not hostile, but I am unstable. So very very frail and unstable. "I don't want to accept that my husband is gone so just do me a favor Anne and get out."
"Oliv-"
"Get out!"
My tone took her aback and her lips parted in shock. She moved to say something but decided against it. Then she grabbed her purse and the kids' suitcases and they left to spend the weekend in New York.
The silence that soon settled in the house sent a eerie chill up my spine. I let my mind wander everywhere but to the memory of Harry. Every time my thoughts drifted to him I'd quickly divert them to something else.
I cut the tv on and sat back. I enjoyed the light chatter that it made. It gave the apartment a less lonely feel. But underneath the noise it would forever remain lonely.
UNKNOWN POV
I sat back trying not to show my father the enjoyment I was having as he doused him in gasoline.
It had been weeks since he was dropped off in the back of the building, restrained and somehow muted. Overall this place seemed to have some kind of affect on him. Either that or something was physically wrong with him. But no one cared. No one seemed to even be curious as to why his health was rapidly deteriorating.
"Any last words?"
He remained silent. His eyes fluttered closed and a smile played on his lips. His thinking of her. I could tell. He seemed peaceful, restored really. His skin was started to flush pink and the color that was one drained from his face was finally back. He was thinking of her.
"Maybe we shouldn't do this," I spoke in a whisper. "Maybe this is all wrong."
"Would you like to join him?"
No, I shook my head.
"Then I advise you to shut the hell up," he said that before lighting a match. "Enjoy hell, I won't miss you."
"Don't worry, Desmond," Harry spoke with eyes still closed and a sad smile still in his face. "I'll see you there soon."
Out of no where the sound of a gun being coked sounded. Then boom. Fire, everywhere.
