Page 15 of What If We Do

“Mhmm.” She pats the spot next to her. “Come join me.”

“What are yo—”

“Come on, just do it.” She raises her hand up, but I don’t take it. Smiling at her goofy, spontaneous antics, I lower myself to the ground next to her, our shoulders almost touching.

My hand brushes up against hers as I lay next to her. “Now what?”

“Now we close our eyes and take a deep breath and just, I don’t know, feel.”

I turn my head in time to see her close her eyes beside me. She inhales and exhales deeply through her nose and then opens her eyes again to look up at the night sky.

“It’s beautiful out here.”

“It is,” I confirm, though I’m not looking at the sky.

Because I can’t stop looking at her.

“Do you ever just take a moment to drown out the world and everything around you and just marvel at the parts of our world that seem so…peaceful?”

“Like the ocean in the evening? Or first thing in the morning?”

“Yeah. Or the quietness of the mountains?”

“Sometimes I like to sit in the arena after practice once everyone has gone home. A huge vast room, and I’m the only person in it. It’s a wonderful place to sit and think. A place where I feel comfortable and safe, where nobody can bother me because they don’t know I’m there.”

“Yeah,” she whispers.

We lie in complete silence for a few minutes and then I hear the lightest sniffle. I turn my head just in time to see a tear slide down Scarlett’s cheek.

Shit.

This is all hitting her.

Because as peaceful as silence can be, it can also open doors to all our demons.

Poetic, I know, as we’re lying in a cemetery.

I could ask her if she’s okay, but she’s not talking, which tells me she doesn’t want to talk about it. So, I do the only thing I can think of to let her know I’m here and she’s not alone.

I shift my hand over a few inches until I find hers and entwine our fingers. She squeezes my hand like it’s her lifeline and for the next five minutes I don’t say a word while she cries in the quiet shadows in the city of the dead.

“Thank you, Oliver,” she finally says softly, wiping her eyes and sitting up. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey.” I slip a finger under her chin and turn her to face me. Her beautiful moss-colored eyes glistening under the light of the moon. “You don’t need to be sorry for anything. He’s an asshole for walking away from you, Scarlett. And he has no idea what he’s lost.”

Her weakened smile tugs at my heart. “Did Ledger pay you to say nice things to me, or are you actually this perfect guy who just happens to be his friend?”

I huff a quiet laugh. “I’m not perfect. Nobody is. We all have skeletons that bother us. But you’re not alone. You’re never alone.”

“How is it that millions of people follow my life and pay attention to the things I’m passionate about, but just one man out of those millions can make me feel more alone than I’ve ever been?”

“Because he clearly never saw you the way I’ve seen you in just a few short hours.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” She bows her head. “He never saw me. He never cared. And I knew it. I felt it back on day one when he had no interest in talking about my passions, but I ignored it. Denied my own feelings of inadequacy.” Her shoulders fall. “Why the hell did I do that to myself? I knew he didn’t love me for me. I knew it the whole goddamn time.”

I inhale a big breath and release it silently. “You knew marrying the guy would make you comfortable,” I answer her not knowing one thing about her fiancé other than the fact he is a douche who has a well-paying job. Her head lifts confirming my answer. “Stability and comfort aren’t the worst reasons for marrying someone.”

“But they’re not the best by any means. I want to marry a man who loves me for who I am. Someone who listens to my pipe dreams and then encourages me to run after them. Someone who doesn’t want me just for sex but for…love. But I don’t want a husband who just loves me. I want my husband to bein lovewith me. Is that too much to ask?”

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