Part Twenty Six: Alex
Walking the streets of the city always helps me clear my mind so why isn't it working right now? I feel so incredibly alone. I feel that a lot lately. It's my own damn fault too. Maybe if I didn't push everyone away, especially the one person who actually cares about me, I wouldn't have this problem. I'm such a mess. I keep telling her to come closer, then to get away again. Why is she still around for this? Would I do the same for her? I'm acting like a spoiled child. I just don't know what to think anymore.
The sun is so bright but you got to love the ambiguity of weather. It's cold out today, even though yesterday I didn't even need a jacket. Still, the fresh air seems to help me breathe. When the wind blows I can feel the stiff lines on my face where my tears dried to my cheeks. When did I loose control of my life? I find a bench just outside central park and sit. I watch the traffic, the vendors and the people passing.
Wow, that little girl looks just like my sister. God I miss her sometimes. Maybe that's when things got out of control. Could it have been when Victoria died? I mean, who am I kidding? Stress can't do this much damage. It's been four years. I don't expect to be over it, but I would like to think I could hold myself together better. I thought I was doing pretty well. These cases have been so tough and I've been finding ways to vent my stress. Okay, so maybe they haven't been the best ways. But I can't be like my mother, even though she desperately wanted me to be. I need to stop this. I'm turning into her… She never dealt with things. She always looked so perfect in the public eye, then she's drink everything away when we all went to bed. I've become that. I've become this untouchable rock that defeats all and the breaks when no ones looking. Now look at me. I'm just like she was… all alone. She died that way too. I don't want that.
The tears resurfaced, renewing and refreshing the stale lines on my face. I can't take care of a baby; not alone. That's what I am though; alone. I know I can count on Olivia for anything, and if I asked for her help she'd give it in a heartbeat but I can't count on myself. My emotions have been so out of control, I push her away for no reason. What if I decide to have this baby, look to her for support and then burn my bridges? She won't put up with that forever. I'm not a complete idiot. But I can't lie… my curiosity is taking its toll. A big part of me wants to have this baby. I could raise it right, and love it in all the ways I wanted to be loved growing up. I'd never make my child be the best, or the smartest, or the strongest. I would love all their imperfections. My silent tears turned quickly to a suppressed sob. The most suppressed I could keep it anyway. I had to get off the street and retreat to a quiet place where no one could see me in all my weakness. I desert the bench and walk into Central Park pulling a tissue from my pocket, trying to regain my composure.
I've been walking for about two and a half hours. I've cried all I could cry. I've exhausted my efforts of making sense of myself and I've decided to just exist. So that's what I'm doing. I'm walking aimlessly through the city hoping and praying for something that will wake me up. Then I see it; a flake of snow.
"You've got to be kidding me." I look up and more are on their way down. A hot dog vendor over hears me.
"Yeah, and tomorrow it's supposed to be 65 degrees. Ain't livin' in New England a bitch?" He smiles at me.
"Yeah it is. Every day's a new day; new weather and new stresses." I say sarcastically as I turn to make myself some coffee. I hand him the money and he hands me extra napkins.
"I like it though you know? Nothing's ever the same. We don't really have routine and sometimes that's a good thing. Plus, every day's a new day sweetheart. They ain't all gunna be bad." He winks at me as I give him a knowing smile. I realize the napkins in my hands and the things he's saying are probably because my face is swollen and red. And it's not from the weather. I opt to venture on.
The snow is light and it's not sticking to the ground. Coffee is the only thing I've consumed today. I notice my stomach rumble and look to see where I am. I notice a café up ahead and decide to go there. I didn't even realize how long I was walking, or how far I went. I must've walked the length of the city! Well, it feels like that anyhow.
I reach the window of the café and burn my tongue as I take my first sip of coffee. It's then, before I reach the door to enter, I see her through the glass. What's she doing up here? I stop and stare at her through the window. She's quite a few tables away from the window and for the most part, the café is empty anyway. I stare, transfixed at the sight of her running her fingers through her hair with a look of pure determination on her face. My heart is beating hard and I want to walk away from the window but I can't. She moves her hand from her hair to the cup beside her and as she lifts her head to drink from it she does a double take. She sees me. Still, I don't move. She pauses a moment, as if she is carefully weighing the value her next move. Then her lips curl and she smiles softly at me. I feel nervous suddenly and turn to leave the window. She wouldn't be offended. She's not pushing me to come in and she's not telling me to leave. She's there. She's there if I need her. I walk a few awkward steps until I'm parallel with the door. With each step, I'm screaming to myself that I need to open the Goddamn door and go see her.
So I do. I open the door and walk over to the table. She doesn't act excited, or offended. I know she was watching me. I know she watches everything I do when I'm within sight. Part of me takes comfort in it. I wish I could be that right now. I wish I could sit there and be okay with the out come of all the decisions laid before me.
"I'm glad you stopped in." Her face is lined with gratitude and it makes her even more beautiful than I already think she is. I notice the paper work spread out on the table. It looks as though she's been sitting here awhile. Notes and tags on pages are scattered everywhere, splashed with her handwriting.
"I was in the neighborhood." I laugh sarcastically, knowing just how strange it was that I made my way down twenty blocks or so on foot by accident.
"How are you feeling?" She's trying to clean up the table, pulling papers away from my side of the table first. I see Dominic's name on a sheet of paper she pulls from my view. I realize that she's working only on my case now.
"What are you doing, Liv?"
"Working." She says simply. It almost makes me mad. Then again, anything could do that today.
"Have you deserted all your other cases? What about them? They need you too." She opens her eyes a hint wider.
"Are you saying you need me Alex?" There's calmness in her features I can't place. I look at her shoulders and wish I was resting my head there, curled in her protective arms. I soften my attitude. I didn't come in here to fight her.
"Does that matter?" I'm trying to reciprocate the nonchalant attitude she's portraying.
"I think it might." She cocks her head to the side and sighs. As she exhales, my heart skips a beat and my stomach knots. I feel like I'm thirteen. I start to fidget. It's always been my downfall. Becoming a prosecutor has taught me to control it for the most part. It's a sign of uncertainty. I, of all people, know this. But I can't help myself. I look away from her questioning gaze and crack my knuckles until I feel her warm hand cover my frozen skin.
"Alex." I look at her and I see the honesty. I feel the energy surge through our hands. "Stop trying to keep up your wall. It's only hurting you more that you can't. If treating everything like it's no skin off your nose is your idea of strength, then you need a new lesson." She goes to remove her hand from mine but I cover it with my other one before she can. She glances at the layered hands on the table and visibly relaxes.
"I know… I'm trying. I've never done this before."
"What?"
"Let anyone in." I'm ashamed as I say it. I know it's not the best idea but it's worked so far; until today. Until I realized living for what other people think of you is no way to live at all. "I have to figure out how to undo years of wall construction."
Olivia's thumb gently grazes my skin, back and forth. With each movement, my stomach becomes more knotted. My mind flashes back to the Italian bistro, the music, the dancing and the rain. I crave the uninhibited actions. I crave the way she was so unafraid touch me; the way she made love to me, both fragile and frantic. It was the best memory I had stored away in my mind.
"Hey…" Her eyes came back into focus. I closed my hands over hers tightly and looked at the table as I drew in a nervous breath. Then, meeting her magnetic gaze, I made up my mind.
"I'm going to keep this baby Liv." Her face registered surprise and unexpected happiness. I was sure she'd be disgusted with my decision. I was worried about what she would think. I was going to raise a child that had a horrible father; wherever he is. But looking at her… I know I can do it. It's about nurture. Something in me tells me I can do this.
"You sure? I mean, it's okay if you are and it's okay if you aren't."
"Yes, I'm sure." She nodded with her crooked smile, looking away from me; her thoughts reeling. We sat a moment in silence until I felt the works hit my tongue. "And yes… I need you." She looked at me, surprised.
"Thank you." Her other hand found the three in the center of the table and we sat there, our fingers laced comfortably together. "I won't let anything happen to you Alex, you know that right?"
"Yeah, I know." In that moment I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders. My chest wasn't as heavy as I smiled back at the woman I was madly in love with.
"You should come home with me tonight. We should talk about this more okay?" Her soft tone made my heart swell, and the thought of spending the night in her arms made everything inside of me breathe easier.
"Of course…. I would love that."