Page 79 of Tangled

“Well, we have been preoccupied with other things,” I tease her as I watch her eyes darken with lust. Last night was one of the few nights we spent apart these past few weeks and I dying to bury myself inside of her again. But first things first—I promised my girl some questions.

“Okay, well then I’m ready. Bring it on,” Olivia challenges while sitting up taller and crisscrossing her legs in front of her.

“I’ll start with an easy one. What is your favorite childhood memory?”

Olivia looks to the sky in contemplation before her eyes return to mine, reverent in her gaze as if she’s right back in that moment in time. “Ah, it’s kind of a compilation of ones, but when I was younger, I used to spend a lot of time at my grandma’s house.”

“Is this the same grandma you said was your hero?”

“Yes. I told you she owned her own porcelain business.” I nod in recollection. “Well, there would be pieces she made—miniature birdhouses, teapots, or dolls—that she couldn’t sell for various reasons. So she would let my cousins and me paint them and fire them off in the kiln so we could keep them.” Her eyes move across the space as she regards the view before continuing. “I just remember sitting beside her in the garage at my own little painting station while she worked meticulously on her own pieces. She was so articulate in every flick of her brush and color choice. The woman was incredibly talented and I was always so in awe of her creativity. She could take something so plain and transform it into a piece of glass that suddenly had life. I’ve never considered myself a creative person. But any artistic bone I have in my body had to have come from her.”

“I love that. What an incredibly gifted woman. She obviously meant a lot to you, Liv. Do you still have some of those pieces?”

Olivia’s eyes find mine again as I see the tears forming. One drop falls down her cheek before she reaches up to brush it away. “Yes, I do. I keep them out so I can think back on her often. Sorry,” she says before wiping her face. “You keep making me cry, Kane,” she chuckles through her tears, looking away from me in embarrassment.

“I know. That’s not my intention, I promise. But I love seeing you talk about her. You’re entire face lights up. And I love learning more about you.”

“I miss her so much,” she whispers while taking another sip of her water, then shaking off her emotion. “Okay, your turn.”

I sit up tall and pull her closer to me so our knees are touching. “Mine is sort of similar to yours. It involves my grandpa. He was a wood-worker, building all sorts of things in his spare time in his shop attached to his house. You know the coffee table in my house?” Olivia nods in acknowledgment. “Well, I helped him build that. It was one of the last pieces we made together before I left for the Army. He died during my second tour overseas. I was able to come back for the funeral, but then had to return almost immediately.”

“I’m sorry, Kane. But that table is beautiful.Hewas obviously very talented.”

“Yeah, he was. He taught me everything I know about building and fixing anything with my hands. My dad was always working, so I spent a lot of time with him. He taught me to fish and hunt, throw a football, and so much about being a man.”

Olivia’s tears return. “He would be nothing but proud of the man you are.”

Her hand finds mine as we share a moment. “Your grandma would be proud of you too, Liv.”

Olivia clears her throat and then takes a few bites of food. “Okay, next question. And please don’t make me cry this time.”

“I’ll try not to,” I say behind a small smile. “Alright. If you could go back in time and change one thing, what would it be?”

I have to admit that on some level, I’m more afraid to answer this question than ask it. I mean, I’ve already admitted my past to her, but I feel like there’s something so meaningful about discussing your regrets.

I’d hate to say that I regret my time with Natasha or my friendship with T.J., but I do wonder how different my life would have been if I had never re-enlisted, or never pursued Natasha. Would T.J. and I still be friends? Would Natasha and I have gone our separate ways earlier and in turn, would I have saved myself the last three years of anger, resentment, and self-doubt?

I know I could sit here and play the “what if” game all day, but if I ever had a regret in my life, it would definitely be how that all played out. I feel like maybe I could have seen it coming, or maybe the writing was on the wall and I was too blind to notice. I think back over my relationship with her often and wonder how one different choice could have led me down a different path.

It’s crazy how one event in our lives can feel like it dictates so much—like that single moment creates a divide in our mind—of the time before it and after it. The change it impacts is so monumental, we define our worlds with it.

Olivia ponders her answer for a moment before locking her eyes on mine.

“Nothing,” she says, which completely catches me by surprise.

“Nothing?”

“Yeah, nothing,” she shrugs. “I mean, there are obviously things that have happened in my life that were hard to experience. I’ve made mistakes and done things I’m not proud of. But if I changed any of that, I wouldn’t be where I’m at right now. Coming home was such a rash decision I made out of anger—not my finest moment, by the way—but being back in Emerson Falls has sent me in a direction that I never could have imagined, and I’m grateful for that.”

I swallow hard at her answer and realize this woman is so much stronger and wiser than I give her credit for. I mean, I knew she was strong-minded, which was one of the things that attracted me to her in the first place. But listening to her accept her life, endure it’s developments so far, even with her losses and mistakes—it reminds me how incredible she is in her ability to move past the obstacles and disappointments she’s faced and has vowed to continue to move forward.

“I’m jealous. I wish I had the confidence to answer the same way.”

“It’s okay, Kane. If you would have asked me that question a few weeks ago, I probably would have answered differently.”

“Really? Why?”

She stumbles for a moment before settling on her answer. “Because I hadn’t met you.”

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