Chapter Thirty-Nine

DENSE HEAT OOZED across Olivia’s skin. Sunlight scalloped on aquamarine water. Shrieks and splashes and tinny music crackled in her ears. The pool’s energy was bright and buoyant, almost painfully so, but she let it wash over her. She’d huddled at the edge of the world too long. She needed to remember how to be in it.

Grief, for her, had always landed like a fist, but this time had been different. It crept up, subtle and insidious. A pluck at her hem, a tug on her ankle—small miseries she tried to kick away. But one tug became ten, and ten became a hundred, all dragging her down a long, slow, sickening slide into what Ben always called The Day.

Marco…Polo…Marco…Polo. The peeps and chirps skimmed across the water as children bounced around an eyes-closed, grasping friend. Past them, Ellie stood waist deep, encouraging Ben to submerge himself. Her bronze skin collected the dense sunshine, where his pale arms, crossed in stubborn refusal, could only reflect it.

“If June keeps pretending to be August, she’s going to lose her status as my favorite month. Ninety-two degrees is ridiculous.” Arti plopped an enormous bag on a deck chair and pulled it closer, feet screeching against concrete. “How long has Ellie been trying to get him to dunk his head?”

“Ten minutes.” Olivia leaned over to exchange kisses, Arti’s perfume whispering against her cheeks. Citrus and rose softened the bite of chlorine.

“And you told her he’s never gone underwater, not once?”

“I did, but she’s determined.”

“Thank God, with the two of you.” Large silver circles flashed on her ears. More discs in various sizes floated on her sea of cleavage. “So what are we celebrating—the end of sixth grade or the end of your don’t-scare-me-like-that-again spiral into darkness?”

“Both?”

“Fair enough.”

It had been a week since they’d last seen each other. That kind of gap would never have happened after the accident. Arti was her watchful shadow then, both support and shield as Olivia fought her way back. But this time, she’d left some space between them. Space a couple would need to find stable ground again. Space she trusted Ellie to fill. Arti appeared all brass and bluster, but Olivia knew the depths of her insight, her grace, and she had never been more grateful for it.

“How’s our boy doing?” Arti lifted her chin in Ben’s direction. “We’re three weeks out now.”

Ben took one step deeper, then another, until the water reached his chest. He turned, searching for Olivia. Ellie pointed in her direction, and she waved to catch his attention. He waved back, then began bobbing. This was his favorite depth. It provided the sensation of swimming without the risk of being submerged.

“He’s better. But still clingy.”

“And you’re still wearing a guilty expression every time you look at him. How long’s that going to go on?”

“Until he’s back to being himself.”

“Plus an extra month because you can’t help yourself.” Arti’s earrings jangled as she shook her head. “And how’s Ellie?”

“Better than I deserve after everything.”

“There’s the guilty expression again. You know it’s not about the fight anymore. It never was, really.”

“How did you know—”

“Because you still carry around every fight you had with Sophia. All four of them.”

“I hurt Ellie. Badly.”

“No, you scared her. Badly.” Arti let her sunglasses slide down her nose. Shrewd brown eyes stared over the top rim. “And I know that because I was the one she called right after the fight.”

“Hurt. Scared. It doesn’t matter which—”

“It does matter. It matters a lot actually. If you’re thinking ‘I hurt her’ while Ellie’s thinking ‘She scared me,’ then you’re going to put all your energy into apologizing when what she really needs is reassurance.” Arti nudged her oversized glasses back into place with one manicured nail and turned to the pool.

Olivia rubbed at a knot in her jaw. Apologies had poured out of her since the bridge, but maybe it wasn’t enough. “Why am I paying a therapist again?”

“Because he gets to do all the dirty work, leaving me to drop these bon mots into your lap at just the right moment.”

Ben’s orange rash guard flared in her peripheral vision. He trudged up the slope of the zero-entry area alone.

“Where is—” Olivia’s words slipped away as a dark head surfaced right in front of them. Ellie hauled herself up the pool ladder, water rushing over her breasts, which stretched her blue tankini to its limits. Olivia’s shuttered libido stirred. Sparks of yearning had started to return, but for all the work they’d done to reconnect, the sexual piece hadn’t clicked yet.

“When did you get here?” Ellie pressed a damp kiss to each of Arti’s cheeks.

“Just now. Nice suit.”

“Thanks! I was going for a bit more coverage, but I couldn’t say no once Olivia saw me in this one. A slack jaw is every woman’s dream compliment.”

“My jaw was not slack!”

Ellie tossed her a wink. “Ben went to the bathroom. I’m going to make sure he doesn’t get lost in the locker room again.” She sauntered off, damp suit hugging every curve, and another tendril of desire snaked through Olivia’s brain.

“That was some reasonably playful banter. Things can’t be too bad.”

“Nothing is ‘bad,’ but this is the most she’s flirted since it all went south.”

“Really?”

“I mean, she’s been tender and sweet and warm and absolutely supportive, but she’s also tentative. Physically, I mean.”

Arti’s lips bowed in a thoughtful pout. She scratched her chin. “How are you going to handle it?”

“With exactly what she gave me—patience and understanding.”

“And clear communication about your needs?”

“I’m only now getting back myself. ‘Needs’ might be a strong word.”

“Look, I know sex is usually the thing that saves you from talking, but this time might have to be different.”

A long sigh leaked between Olivia’s teeth. Physicality, intimacy, sex—they’d always been a refuge when words failed her. The idea that she might need words to find her way back to sex…

“You should bring it up with Dr. Williams. How’s therapy going, by the way? Overall?”

“Good. I stepped away too soon the last time. I won’t repeat that mistake.”

Ben skipped across the cement. “Thea Arti!” He gave her a quick peck as Ellie camped on the end of Olivia’s chair.

“My sweet Ben! Will do you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“See the long line for concessions? I’m giving you this ten-dollar bill to buy me a lemonade. If you can stand in line and politely wait your turn alllllll the way to the front, you can use the leftover money for yourself.”

“Yeah?”

“But I’ll be watching from here, so I’ll know if you cheat. No pushing into someone’s personal space and no loud complaining about how long it’s taking. Got it?”

“Easy-peasy!” He ran for the line.

“Walk!” Olivia shouted at him. He slowed to the fastest speed walk imaginable, waving when he reached his position. She returned the wave, then poked Ellie with her toe. “I’ll take the next pool shift whenever he’s done digesting the junk he’s about to buy.”

“Sounds good.” Ellie raised her eyebrows, looking from her to Ben. “This seems like the perfect chance.”

There were a dozen people in front of Ben, who was distracting himself by creasing Arti’s bill into thin accordion folds. Olivia slumped in her chair and sighed. She didn’t know which was more painful, telling Arti the truth, or admitting she’d kept it from her at all.

“What’s going on, ladies?”

“Dr. Williams suggested if I’ve held information back from the people who love me, I should tell them. Clear the decks, as it were.” Olivia glanced over her shoulder. Ben was bouncing now, vibrating with the effort to be patient.

Ellie patted her calf. “I’m going to keep him company. Take your time.” She stood and wandered in his direction, leaving them framed in the shadow of the umbrella.

“God, your expression, Olivia.” Arti pushed the hair from her face with her sunglasses. “Not that I’m not curious, but are you sure you want to do this now?”

“He suggested picking somewhere less serious so it didn’t feel as threatening.” Olivia tossed her own sunglasses on the towel at her feet. “There are only two things I have ever kept from you.”

“Both about the accident.”

“You know me too well.”

“Just well enough.” Arti flashed her best smirk. That glimpse of their decades-old banter released some of the tension in Olivia’s chest.

“When I went to the bridge, it wasn’t just to process the accident. Each time, I thought about what it would mean to end it.”

Arti nodded once, her grin fading.

“You knew.”

“Not at first. But later, I suspected. I just wouldn’t admit it to myself.”

Olivia pivoted on the deck chair to fully face Arti, resting her elbows on her knees. The hot concrete throbbed against the soles of her feet. “The second thing I lied about is not remembering the accident. I remember most of it. Sophia didn’t die instantly.”

A muscle twitched in Arti’s jaw, but she stayed silent.

It was only the third time Olivia had revealed the truth. She’d kept it in so long that with Ellie, at the bridge, the words had torn themselves from her body, piece by piece. With her therapist, the story hadn’t sliced to the bone, but it still hurt. Describing Sophia’s death to Arti was its own exquisite kind of pain. She could only watch as the realization played out on Arti’s expressive features, as her memory of a close friend was altered. Olivia was reopening an old wound and making it deeper. Bloodier. Uglier. This was why she’d kept it a secret. She knew what it was like to live with that memory, and she’d been desperate to spare anyone else the agony.

Arti swung her own feet to the ground, going knee to knee. “This is what’s been destroying you? That Sophia was hurt. She was dying. And you watched it happen? Why didn’t you say something?”

“How do I tell someone who knew Sophia, who loved her, that she died next to me, in pain, and I could do nothing to help her?”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, kardiá mou.”

The rare expression pulled Olivia’s eyes up from the concrete. My heart.

Arti took her hands. A tremor rippled through their shared grip, and then Arti squeezed, hard. “No one should die the way Sophia did, but if she had to die first, at forty or at eighty, she wanted your face to be the last thing she saw. She might have been scared or hurting, but she wasn’t alone. It’s your gift. You can make someone feel like they’re the only person in the world. I’m sure that’s all Sophia felt, at the end.”

Their final moment had always seemed so certain, but Arti’s words muted the horror enough to allow for another possibility. “I never thought about it that way.”

“Because your curse is you aren’t generous with yourself the way you are with others. You can’t know what was happening inside Sophia. The one certainty is you were with her. Would you want to be anywhere else, given what was happening?”

The idea of being absent, of Sophia dying alone… Olivia pressed her lips in a thin line and gave a single, curt shake.

“Then you did all you could.”

“It doesn’t feel like enough.”

“Knowing you, it never will. Blame your tender but oh-so-serious heart.” Arti tapped Olivia’s forehead with a finger. “And your thick skull.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s fine. We’re fine. Maybe this secret wasn’t meant for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember what I said when you asked me if it was really over with Jen?”

“No.”

“I said any woman who didn’t fight for you didn’t deserve you. Ellie fought—for you, and for the secret you locked away. I think it was hers to pry loose.”

“I can’t believe I could get so lucky. Twice.”

“The common factor is you. You’re easy to love. Hard to talk to sometimes, but—” Arti lifted her shoulder in a tender mimic of Olivia’s reflexive shrug. “Keep it simple from now on. Sophia loved you, and she would be thrilled that Ellie loves you too.”

“Sophia always said if she went first, I should find someone to be with because I’m terrible at being alone.”

“She was an exceptionally smart woman.”

“As are you.” Olivia lifted Arti’s hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “You’ve been my best friend for forty years. I know the last four have been the hardest, but thanks for not giving up. Thanks for always being there for me, even when I couldn’t be there for you.”

“Olivia, being your friend is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” Arti drew her in until their foreheads touched. “And you didn’t have to tell me, but I’m glad you did.”

She squeezed Arti’s fingers again. “Me too.”