Layla speaks into the microphone, telling the crowd she’s going to try out a new song she just wrote and she hopes everyone likes it. Even with hundreds of people sitting on the lawn in front of us on blankets and folding chairs, I swear she looks right at me when she tells everyone the name of the song.
“This one’s called Closer to the Edge and I hope y’all like it.”
The crowd goes wild, screaming and clapping as the drummer behind Layla counts them out and the guitar player joins in. It’s a slow, haunting melody and my heart starts beating faster when Layla’s beautiful voice echoes all around us.
You had it all
But you threw it away
I lost myself
Can you show me the way
I tried to forget
I tried to move on
I’m at the brink and now I’m looking down
I see all the mistakes and the things we left unsaid
Now I’m closer to the edge
You say you’re sorry
Maybe one day I’ll believe you
You tell me you love me
Maybe one day is now
I tried to forget
I tried to move on
I’m at the brink and now I’m looking down
I see all the mistakes and the things we left unsaid
Now I’m closer to the edge
Our story is never ending
Even through the pain and tears
We’ll find our way back to each other
We’ll forgive and forget and make it better
I’m closer to the edge of letting go
I’m closer to the edge of loving you
I’m closer to the edge and falling fast…
Will you be there to catch me?
The roar of the crowd when the song ends startles me, so lost in Layla’s words that I forgot where I was. I forgot about all the reasons walking away was a good idea. The only thing going through my mind right now is that I wish Cole were here. I wish he were sitting next to me on the blanket so I could tell him I forgive him. I wish he was sitting under the stars with me, listening to Layla sing the words I wish I could say to him.
I scramble forward to grab my shoes and my sweater, not really sure what the hell I’m doing. I find one shoe, flipping up the edge of the blanket, frantically searching for the other. I’m about two seconds away from screaming at Parker and Gwen to help me when a hand appears in front of my face, holding my shoe.
“Looking for this?”
My eyes slowly travel up the toned arm that’s holding my shoe, across the muscled chest I’ve rested my ear against so many as I listened to the beat of the heart inside of it and finally lands on the face I’ve held in my hands, seen in my dreams and thought I never wanted to look at again. How did I walk away from him? How did I make myself believe I could be happy without him?
He smiles down at me and I want to kiss the dimples in his cheeks. I want to tell him I’ve missed him and that I made a mistake, but what if I’m wrong? What if we aren’t meant to be together? What if it’s too hard and it just brings more pain?
Is it even possible for us to start over, when there’s so much history and grief between us?
“Sorry to interrupt what looks like a fun night out with the girls,” he tells me, eying the empty bottles of wine that litter our blanket.
Parker and Gwen stare open-mouthed up at Cole and I’m a little irritated that, as hard-assed and straightforward as these two are, they’re completely silent and of no help to me whatsoever.
“I was wondering if you ladies would like to hear a story. It might piss you off, and it could bore you to death, but I’m hoping it has a happy ending,” Cole tells us.
“May I?” He points to the empty spot on the blanket.
I immediately notice the cane in his hand and my heart flutters. I wasn’t sure if he’d like what I did, so I hid it away and was waiting for the perfect time to give it to him. How did he find it?
“By all means, have a seat, kind sir,” Parker finally speaks with a laugh, shoving the wine bottles out of the way as Cole tosses the cane onto the blanket and gently eases himself down next to me.
He keeps his bad leg straight out in front of him and I don’t see a trace of pain on his face as he gets himself situated. I want to ask him if he’s okay and if he’s been keeping up with his therapy, but most of all, I want to run my hands over his freshly shaven face to make sure he’s real and I’m not dreaming.
I can do nothing but stare at him, though, as he begins his story.
“Three years ago, I met a woman who changed my life…”
“I’M SURE YOU’RE going to think I’m the world’s biggest pussy, but I don’t care. This woman, she was strong and beautiful, a fighter and a caretaker and she made everything better,” I tell the women, trying not to look at Olivia.
If I look at her right now, I will fuck things up like I did that day at the cemetery. This is my last shot to get it right and I WILL get it right.
My plan for tonight didn’t get much further than coming to the realization after six months of wallowing in misery and self-pity that I wasn’t going to let Olivia walk away. When Garrett told me that she’d seen the bench I’d had made for our son and pretty much fell to pieces and needed to get out of town, I knew I had to get to her. I never meant for her to see that bench. It was something I needed to do for myself, for my son. It was my way of remembering him and apologizing for not being there for him. I wanted him to have my name, even if it was only in a carving on a piece of stone.
After threatening Garrett with castration by cane, he finally told me where she was and my only thought was getting to her as fast as possible and begging her to come back. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a flight to Napa, so I had to spend nine hours in my car alone, with nothing but my thoughts.
As soon as I saw her sitting on the blanket with her eyes closed, listening to the words of the song Layla was singing on stage, I knew what I needed to do. I needed to tell her our story. I needed to make her see that this wasn’t a mistake. WE weren’t a mistake.
I see Gwen and Parker looking at the cane lying on the blanket between us and I pick it up, running my hand over the silver handle.
“I gave her space, like she asked, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I went to her house to try and beg her to talk to me and when she didn’t answer, I picked the lock and went inside. I know, I’m an asshole, but I had to do it. I had to talk to her,” I tell them, remembering how I walked through the house calling her name. When I got to her bedroom, I saw that the closet door had been left open and something with a red ribbon tied around it caught my eye.
“She had this cane made for me,” I tell them, tracing my fingers over the engraving on the handle. “I had been bitching and moaning about having to walk with a cane for the rest of my life, feeling sorry for myself, and she did something to make it better. She got this cane engraved with the initials of my two best friends and it made me realize that, as much as it sucks, I need to be thankful that I’m still alive. She made me see that I have no reason to feel guilty about losing them, and every reason to live my life to the fullest. To make them proud. To let them know that they didn’t die for nothing. I have to move on and I have to live the life that they’ll never get. She knew that every time I use this cane, I’ll remember them and remember that I have a reason to keep going, putting one foot in front of the other even if it’s a little wobbly.”
I set the cane down and get back to my original story, looking up at Gwen and Parker, who are both staring at me. I feel the heat from Olivia’s body right next to me and it gives me the strength and the courage to go on, just like it always has.
“She made the bad days good and she filled my life with light when it had been dark for far too long,” I continue.
Looking up at the stars, I think about every single moment I’ve spent with the woman sitting next to me and I smile at the night sky.
“When she’s irritated wi
th me, she puts her hands on her hips and taps her foot. I never told her it’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Sometimes when she’s sleeping, she sighs my name and it’s the best sound in the world. Even when she’s asleep she’s thinking about me and it makes me feel like a Goddamn king.”
Taking a deep breath, I look away from the sky and see Gwen and Parker staring at me with sappy smiles on their faces. At least they haven’t tried kicking my ass and I can still feel Olivia sitting beside me. If she hasn’t run away yet, that must be a good sign.
“I was a complete pompous ass when I met her and I have no idea why she didn’t punch me in the face,” I say with a laugh, shaking my head. “After she gave me the brush off, I flew out to DC and showed up at her job every single day for two weeks until she finally gave in and said she’d go out with me. I’m pretty sure she just did it so I’d stop following her around and annoying her with my lame pick-up lines, but it didn’t matter. She said yes and my life was never the same after that moment. I fell in love with her the very first time I saw her and I never stopped. She took away my nightmares and she made me want to be a better man. A man she deserved, because that woman? She deserved the world. She deserved to be loved unconditionally and she deserved to be taken care of for once in her life. I should have taken better care of her. She gave me her heart and I didn’t appreciate it.”
I hear Olivia sniffle next to me and I want to beg her not to cry. I’m not worth the tears she’s shedding, but I want to be. I want to be the man she needs. I want to be every single thing that’s been missing from her life.
“You fucked things up, didn’t you, buddy?” Gwen asks, playing along.
I nod my head and keep going. “I did. I fucked things up big time. I let her walk away when all I wanted to do was hold onto her and never let go. I was so concerned with what my life would be like without her that I never thought about what her life would be like with me. I’m not the easiest person to deal with and I’ve made mistakes. I’m a guy, so obviously I’m going to make more, but I will never, ever make the mistake of not believing in her again. Of not realizing how amazing and caring she is and how loving her was the only damn thing I ever did right in my life. I just wish I could have told her that before she left.”
“Maybe she already knows,” Parker says softly. “Maybe she’s been second-guessing her decision to walk away but doesn’t want to admit it.”
I see her glance at Olivia and I try not to let hope overwhelm me before I’m finished saying everything I came here to say.
“She had every right to walk away,” I continue. “I hurt her. She’d been hurt before, but what I did was much worse. I forgot about all the ways she made my life better. I forgot about how her laugh could make me forget whatever’s bothering me and how the smell of her skin could take away my bad memories and make me just want to breathe her in for the rest of my life.”
I shift to the side and reach into the front pocket of my jeans, pulling out the item that’s been folded and unfolded so many times in the last year it’s a wonder it hasn’t torn in half. I carefully open it up and stare at it for a few seconds before turning it around and holding it up for everyone on the blanket to see.
“Why do you have a picture of a door in your pocket?” Gwen asks, reaching out and taking it from my hands.
She looks at it for a few seconds before handing it to Olivia. I hear her sharp intake of breath and I take that moment to finally look at her. She’s so beautiful I want to cry like a fucking baby. It feels like I’ve been away from her for years and not just a few months.
“That’s not just any door, that’s my yellow door,” I announce. “You see, this beautiful, amazing woman I took for granted, she painted that door yellow right after we moved in together. I teased her about it, but I never told her that coming home every day and walking through that yellow door was the best fucking thing in the world. That yellow door represented light and hope and a future I never thought I deserved. Every time I saw that yellow door, I knew I was home. I knew that what was behind that door was everything I’d ever need in life and I knew I’d never be happier than living in that house, with that woman and our yellow door.”
I reach over and gently take the photograph out of Olivia’s hands. The picture I took the morning I left for the Dominican. The picture I carried around the world with me and looked at every single day and night, wishing I was there, on the front porch, getting ready to walk through that door and take back my life and my future.
Setting the photo down on the blanket, I turn my body and face Olivia. Her eyes meet mine and they fill with tears she’s trying so hard to keep from falling.
“You’re my home, my future, my everything… you’re my yellow door, Liv. I can’t take back the things I’ve done. I can’t erase the hurt I’ve caused you, but I will spend the rest of my life loving you and taking care of you and being everything you need if you’ll just let me. Let me take care of you, Liv. Let me love you,” I plead.
The crowd around us gets to their feet and starts clapping and chanting Layla’s name as she says good-bye and thanks them for a great evening. I ignore them, blocking out all the noise and hold my breath. I don’t care about anyone else. I don’t give a fuck about all the nameless, faceless strangers laughing and cheering around us. The only person that matters is sitting right in front of me, not saying a word. I quickly try to think of something more to say, of another way to explain to her how much I love her and how sorry I am for all the things that went wrong. I open my mouth to let the word vomit fly when her hand comes up, covering my lips with the tips of her fingers.
“You’re already everything I need, Cole. I thought I had to walk away and start fresh, but it’s pointless. You’ve always had my heart and my love and walking away just made me realize that I’ll never get it back, that I never want it back. I just want you,” she says with a smile, letting her fingers slide away from my lips. “I just want you.”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding and cradle her head in my hands, bringing her face close to mine. I press my lips to hers and the world melts away. Olivia’s hands bunch into the fabric of my shirt and she pulls me closer. It’s still not close enough; it will never be close enough, but we’re in a crowd of people and it will have to do for now. I know we still have a lot more to talk about, but we have plenty of time for that. We have our entire lives. Right now, I just want to kiss my girl and thank God she walked away. It sounds stupid, and I hated every fucking minute of it, but it needed to happen. She needed to walk away before she could run back to me.
I hear someone clear her throat loudly and I can’t help the growl that comes out of my mouth as Olivia pulls away from the kiss. With a scowl on my face, I turn my head to see Gwen and Parker standing right at the edge of the blanket.
“So, I’m just wondering. Does this story of yours have a happy ending?” Gwen asks, raising one eyebrow and looking back and forth between Olivia and I.
Olivia looks back at me and I run my fingers through her hair while she traces over my eyebrows, my cheeks, my chin and my lips with the tips of her fingers almost reverently, like she’s trying to memorize me. I look at her questioningly, allowing her to answer Gwen’s question. I’ve taken so many choices out of her hands and I want her to know that it’s all up to her. The choice is hers and I will do whatever she wants.
She finally smiles at me, cupping my face in her hands. “It has a happy beginning. We’re starting a new chapter, and it’s going to be a good one.”
FIVE WEEKS LATER…
“Liv, you’re killing me here. Will you come out of there already?” I beg, pacing back and forth outside of the bathroom.
I stop wearing a hole in the carpet, knocking gently on the door.
“Stop rushing me!” Olivia shouts from the other side. “This is so stupid. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Have I mentioned how stupid this is?”
I chuckle at her irritated muttering. After eight days of her throwing up eve
ry single morning and her moods going from one extreme to the next in the blink of an eye and making me sort of fear for my life, I ran to the pharmacy this morning and picked up a test. She grumbled and rolled her eyes at me, reminding me what the doctor told her all those months ago, but she still snatched the brown paper bag with the box inside out of my hand and stormed into the bathroom.
That was five minutes ago. Five of the longest Goddamn minutes of my life.
Once Gwen and Parker stopped crying long enough to relate the details of my grand display to Layla, the three women went back home to their men while Olivia and I stayed on at the Villagio Inn. We spent the next week touring wineries and having sex in every single private location we could find. Actually, some not-so- private locations, too, now that I think about it. We talked, we made love, we drank wine and we promised to return to Napa as soon as possible.
Once we got back to San Diego, the first thing I did was go to the hardware store and buy a can of yellow paint to cover up that ugly ass brown color on the front door. After that, we packed up our son’s room, including the frame holding that fucking check from my mother. In its place we hung up my picture of the yellow door. We started talking about adoption and making plans for the future, plans I would move heaven and earth to make a reality for her.
My family is a complete disaster right now and I’m not sure we’ll be normal again, not that we were ever really normal to begin with. With Olivia’s help, I’m trying to forgive them for all the shit they put us through. If she can forgive them, I damn well should be able to. After listening to the facts of the case, the DA ruled that my mother acted in self-defense and they opted not to prosecute. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive herself for covering up Caroline’s darkness all those years, and the guilt she must feel over being forced to kill her own child is something I will never be able to comprehend, but she looks a little better every time I see her.