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The illusion of their life was shattered the moment the words slipped out of her mouth, completely calm and rational.
“I think you should marry Frank.”
She hoped Natalia couldn’t hear the desperation in the sentence, the lack of the control, or the spiraling demise of her self-confidence. She hoped that Natalia couldn’t see the NO echoing in her eyes or the frowned that graced her mouth as soon as the words floated through the kitchen.
She hoped Natalia said, “Olivia, cut it out” and that could be the end of it.
Natalia just stared at her, eyes slightly wide with something Olivia knew were confusion and relief mixed together; something Olivia knew Natalia didn’t realize was leaking from her eyes. The younger woman opened her mouth and closed it just as quickly, and Olivia was relieved.
If Natalia asked “why” Olivia wouldn’t know what to say or how to say it.
If Natalia was quiet, then they could let the silence speak for them, the way the silence had been speaking for the past two months.
“Olivia…”
“Think about it,” Olivia continued with false bravado. “Frank’s a good guy and Rafe needs a father figure. It’d be good for him; for you.”
Natalia’s eyes remained wide, but her mouth opened again. “What about us? What about Emma?”
Olivia ignored the “us” and went with Emma, the safety subject. “Emma’s a resilient kid. She’ll be, sad, I guess, but she’ll bounce back. I mean, she can still visit you,” Olivia said slowly and only breathed a little steadier when Natalia nodded fiercely. “So, she’ll be okay. We’ll both be okay.”
That should have been the end of it; they should have waved their white flags and said, “We can do this long-distance friend thing” and called it a day. Natalia said, “what about us?” once before, and then backtracked over it as if she had never said it in the first place. So why should this time be any different, Olivia wondered to herself.
“What about us?” Natalia asked again, leaning forward slightly in her seat anxiously.
“We’ll be fine,” Olivia repeated, gently lifting the soft velvet ring box out of the spice drawer, placing it on the kitchen table, halfway between them. She ignored Natalia’s flinch, the way Natalia recoiled back into her seat, holding the knife in her hands limply.
She ignored a lot of Natalia lately.
“Olivia…”
Olivia pushed the ring box even closer. “We’ll be fine,” she said again, going for reassuring and coming off as flighty – as if the distance growing between them with each passing second didn’t make her want to turn and build a bridge back to where Natalia stood.
“We won’t be,” Natalia whispered, shattering Olivia’s defenses. “You can hardly look at me now. If I’m Mrs. Frank Cooper…”
“If you’re Mrs. Frank Cooper,” Olivia interrupted, her voice high with false cheer, “you won’t ever be lonely and you’ll forget all about Olivia Spencer.”
Natalia looked offended, appalled even, that Olivia had even suggested it. “I would never,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I would never.”
“You have to.”
It’s not a pleading request; it’s a desperate command.
The fire in Natalia’s eyes tempered at Olivia’s words. They cooled and died right in front of Olivia as she watched Natalia fold into herself with such a sickening sadness the older woman only wished she could have reached out and pressed one finger to Natalia’s face, to prod those dimples back into shape. “If you want me too,” she conceded quietly.
Of course I don’t want you to, Olivia screamed inside. “It’s the best thing to do,” she said, the words bouncing off the chairs and the refrigerator and Natalia’s thin-set mouth.
“The best thing for who?” Natalia’s eyes called out accusingly.
“If you want me too,” Natalia repeated sullenly; obediently.
Olivia sighed; pulling her hand away from the velvet box like it burned her fingertips she dropped to the empty chair in front of her and swallowed hard. “I don’t want you to,” she admitted. “Please don’t marry him.”
Dark hair trembled fiercely as Natalia shook her head. “I can’t be Mrs. Frank Cooper,” she mumbled, words choked with sobs. “I can’t marry him, Olivia. I can’t wake up next to him every morning and make him breakfast and kiss him goodbye. I can’t, Olivia. I…”
“You can’t,” Olivia finished softly. “I know,” she whispered. “I know.” She wanted to get up and pull Natalia into her arms; wanted to run her hands through Natalia’s thick curtain of hair; wanted to wipe away Natalia’s tears with her fingertips, brush away the soft mascara pooling under dark mahogany eyes. She longed to stop Natalia’s words with her mouth, to reassure Natalia in one way Olivia knew how to do well.
Olivia wished she could turn back the clock, five minutes only. Turn it back to when she said “I think you should marry Frank” because their life – Olivia and Natalia and Emma’s life – lay in pieces on the floor, waiting to be put back together. Only time would fix something like that. Only “I love you, Natalia”would fix that. Only Olivia reaching across the distance between them and kissing Natalia without abandon would fix that. And she’d never wanted to fix anything so badly in her entire life.
“I’m going to say no,” Natalia continued, closing the ring box with an audible thud that echoed loudly through the kitchen. “Because I have you. I have you and Emma and that’s enough for me. We have each other.”
Olivia nodded. She nodded and she tried to smile through her suddenly burning eyes and mouth.
“I hope it’s enough for you, too,” Natalia added quietly, rising from her chair, depositing her knife in the sink. She dropped a hand to Olivia’s shoulder, squeezed once and tilted Olivia’s head back with her other hand.
For a first kiss, it wasn’t the best Olivia Spencer had. It wasn’t the worst either. Her head was pulled diagonally: up and to the side, and Natalia’s nails pressed into the soft skin under her chin and as sson as her neck was in position, she felt it lock there. It was the one that meant the most, though, and Olivia didn’t pull away until she couldn’t breathe; until her secondhand heart beat erratically inside her chest and her head was filled with a sweet buzzing noise.
Natalia kissed her softly again, before she straightened up and lifted the ring box off the table gingerly, opening the spice drawer, dropping it in. She shut it almost inaudibly, smiling gently at Olivia.
“It is,” Olivia agreed, frozen in the kitchen chair. “It’s enough for me,” she continued, answering Natalia’s unspoken question. “You’re more than enough for me, Natalia Rivera.”
“Enough,” Natalia repeated. She leaned her head to one side; dark tresses spilled over Natalia’s shoulder with the movement. “You know, that’s all I ever really needed. I only needed to be enough for someone; for Gus, and for Rafe. For you.”
Olivia knew that meant I love you in not so many words.
“You are,” she said quietly.
Natalia knew that meant I love you too in not so many words.