Opie watched.
He always watched. Opie always watched her.
Gracie had on a tiny – too tiny – hot pink dress. Her hair was extra big, holding an unknown amount of hairspray. And her hands… her hands were around David Hale's neck as they slow danced. Opie's stomach turned (again) as he remembered how Gracie had confided in him that she and David would be sleeping together – for the first time – that night.
"Ope," Donna said, her hands holding onto his own neck, "Opie, hello? Earth to Opie! I'm your girlfriend remember?"
Opie focused his attention back to Gracie's sister, Donna. Opie had been "making do" with Donna for a few months now. She was the closest thing Opie could get to Gracie – Donna was falling miserably short.
Jax watched Opie from the punchbowl, shook his head and resumed pouring booze into the red, fruity drink. It was painfully obvious that Opie was infatuated with Gracie. The way he watched her, spoke to her, spoke about her. His eyes flashed when she said his name. Jax, although he felt sorry for Opie, made him promise not to break Gracie and David. As far as Jax was concerned, David was a good thing for Gracie. Although he knew that Gracie wouldn't end up a croweater or a sweet butt, he figured David could provide for her a good, safe life outside the club. She needed that. Opie, unfortunately was already as deep into SAMCRO as Jax was.
…
Opie cried.
Donna's blood was still on his cut, he could smell the metallic tinge still. The kids slept behind him, silently. He would tell them in the morning.
He tried desperately to calm himself but he continued to sob. Harder and harder he cried, his shoulders shaking. Finally, he forced himself to leave the room before he woke the kids.
He cried for Donna, of course he did. He kept telling himself that, I'm crying for Donna, okay!
But, in all reality – he cried with sick relief. All those years of regretting that he hadn't made Gracie his came to a screeching halt – they turned into disgusting, sweet relief. That could have been Gracie. Could have been Gracie's brains all over the dashboard. Gracie's kids – now motherless – sleeping in Gracie's bed. Gracie's clothes in the hamper, Gracie's dishes in the sink, Gracie's blood on his clothes. Gracie. Gracie. Gracie. Gracie.
Opie slammed his fists against his temples. He cried harder because it wasn't Gracie.
…
She was so beautiful. Beautiful even with the tubes full of blood, medicine, pain killers and air going in and out of her, she was beautiful. She was pale white – the dark circles under her eyes looked like bruises. Blood oozed through the gauze on her shoulder. Her hair was still halfway styled from Half Sack's wake. Jax's hand made Opie jump, "We gotta go," Jax said, "She'll be aight, brother – Ireland is waiting."
Opie nodded. Jax walked over to Gracie and kissed her. Opie waited patiently for him to leave. Then, he walked up to her and kissed her hair – it smelled like hairspray and the last remaining whiffs of her strawberry shampoo. The closeness of the moment struck a chord in him and he knelt down to look at her, "I don't think you can hear me, you're pretty loaded up on morphine," he held her hand, it was dwarfed by his, "I want you to know that I can never, ever thank you enough for taking care of Kenny and Ellie. You're my best friend – I love you," Opie stood up, "I love you more than you'll ever know."
…
"YOU DID WHAT," Opie bellowed, coming at Tig.
"It was just the Mexican help, Ope," Tig said, throwing his hands in the air, "Just a quick bang!"
Opie was a big guy. He slammed Tig against the wall – the impact making Tig's gunshot wound throb and sting, "You don't do that! You have Gracie," Opie said through a clenched jaw. Tig felt the guilt leech into him, "You have her."
…
Opie could still taste Gracie on his lips as he sped to the clubhouse… to Clay. If he was going to die tonight, he would die knowing that he told Gracie that he loved her. He felt closure in knowing that she knew. His father, his mother, Donna, Lyla, the kids - they would have been proud. He was proud. Because he had finally said it, finally showed it. He exhaled in a half laughing, half crying noise. He loved her.
