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“I love him.”
Malcolm was out with the love of his life, having a sexy winter night at Holden’s, likely doing questionable things with whipped cream and candy canes. Which meant Olive had the evening to herself at her apartment. Since September 29th, being left alone with her thoughts was her least favorite time. She avoided it at all costs.
Which was why she begged and pleaded with Anh to reschedule their s’mores and movie night for today. Olive knew her friends would be gone for the holiday break soon, and that would be hard enough. She even said Jeremy could come to girls’ night. Anything, so she wouldn’t be alone. They ate junk food, made s’mores over unscented candles, drank hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps, and watched more rom coms than they could count. Definitely more than Jeremy was interested in watching. It was messing with her brain, especially seeing how happy Anh was with Jeremy, and Malcolm was with Holden. Love was all around, except for Olive.
Instead, she had a whirlwind romance with a man who saw her when she was no one. Nothing to the eyes of the world, but seemingly not to Adam.
“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”
If she closed her eyes, she could still hear his voice back in Boston. His deep, wonderful baritone saying soothing things. Loving things. Indecent, perfect things, in Olive’s ear. There hadn’t been a day that went by that she didn’t miss him. What if Adam wanted her too, and she pushed him away for nothing?
“Not immediately. Not for a while, I’d say.”
That was what he had said to her. She broke her own heart for the sake of his, but what if she were wrong? She might have thrown away the best thing that ever happened to her.
Anh nodded in agreement, watching Hugh Grant dance across the screen. “Same. His dancing and that accent are uber sexy in this movie.”
Jeremy grunted. “Is that really your type?”
“Aww, is someone jealous?” Anh’s tone was all tease, looking at Jeremy with enough love that Olive felt her cheeks heat.
She looked away when her perfect friend pressed a kiss to Jeremy’s cheek. They were watching their fifth romcom of the night. Thoughts of romantic gestures were swirling in Olive’s mind. Love letters, posterboard sign confessions, poems of declarations, and running after your beloved through a crowded space were all she could think of.
“No. Adam.”
Anh paused the movie. “What?”
“Adam. I love Adam.”
Jeremy’s mouth fell open. “Gobshite.”
Anh nudged him in the ribs hard enough that Jeremy winced.
“I mean, grand! That’s…yeah. He’s…yep. Makes total sense.”
“Carlsen? I. Have. Been. Prepping. For. This.” Anh scooted over, swiping her tears away. “I told you ages ago, didn’t I? You are totally in love with his broody ass.”
Olive nodded. “I am.”
“Why did you dump him?”
“It’s really complicated,” she hiccuped. “But I think I want to try and work it out.”
It worked out in the movies, so why couldn’t it work out in real life? Adam was too considerate to run after her in a crowd, because Olive broke up with him. He respected her space.
“I need to go to him.”
Now.
“I’m here for you. We can totally go over there, Ol. And then if he rejects you, I’ll pepper spray him.”
Jeremy snorted, wiping his hand down his face. “Yous two aren’t going anywhere. Anh spilled that schnapps everywhere. You smell like a liquor store. If you’re pulled over, I’ll have to pick you up from jail.”
They ignored him.
“You’re too good to me.”
“No one rejects my soul sister.”
“I don’t know how to bridge the gap.”
Anh snorted. “There’s no gap to bridge. I saw him looking at you during that seminar talk the other day. He wanted to eat you alive.”
“Christ,” Jeremy muttered.
“You don’t think I’m too late?”
“You’re Olive Smith. Was Colin Firth too late for the hot maid? No! We’re going to go to Adam’s house and tell him you’re dating again.”
“I don’t think you can—”
“Manifest, bitch. That’s what we’re doing. Say it with me: ‘Adam, we’re dating again and I’m not taking no for an answer.’”
“Oh, god. No. What if he says no?”
She fished a canister from her purse. “Pepper spray, remember? He’ll never forget. Operant conditioning to the extreme.”
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“Ol, we have been training all night. All. Night. These screenwriters literally wrote the script.”
“Right. I should go up to his door and tell him what happened. Clear communication. Then he would have the truth on his side, and—”
Anh made a sound like a buzzer. “No. Wrong. Boring. There will be plenty of time for talking later. We need to get you ready for the grand gesture.”
“Grand gesture,” Olive nodded. “To get his attention.”
Anh moved around her space like a whirlwind, finding an old box and dismantling it in seconds, before cutting out pieces of cardboard. “We don’t have posterboard, so this will have to do.”
“I have to go now, before I lose my nerve.”
“I’ll get my bloody keys. This is insane.”
“Operation Proclamation. Let’s do this,” Anh said. “Where are your markers?”
Olive could barely think. Her heart raced as adrenaline surged through her veins, heightening her senses. She was about to speak to Adam for the first time in months, and she had no idea what to say.
I love you. “Too forward, Olive. Okay. Deep breath. You can do this. Emma Thompson made it through her husband cheating on her with that one girl. Mr. Darcy even made it through a disastrous proposal and still got the girl. All romcoms are a hot mess in the middle, but they’re finishers. They close the book. You can say hi to the man you adore.”
She knocked on the door, praying he didn’t have a Ring camera somewhere.
“I’m going to be sick.”
“Get it together, bitch. Vomiting is not attractive,” Anh whispered. “You’ve got this. I love you.”
Anh ran away and into Jeremy’s car. They gave her a thumbs up, turned the lights off, and Olive was alone. For thirty seconds, then a minute. Olive rang the doorbell. Maybe her knock wasn’t loud enough.
Please.
Olive didn’t want to give up. Not when she was so close, and not when she was ready to tell Adam everything.
“Knock harder!” Anh whisper shouted.
She knocked on the door again, with her entire fist this time. Finally, Adam swung the door open, seemingly pissed off at whoever was pounding on his door. It didn’t last long, fading into confusion, then amazement.
“Olive?”
“Hi.” She might cry. He was still so handsome, in all his angry glory. He was wearing all black because, of course, he was. It was Adam. But this time, it was sweatpants and a plain black tee, looking casually perfect. All around them were houses decorated with colored strands of lights. Some people had fake snowmen and candy canes in their yards. Others had icicles, Santa’s reindeer, and festive cheer that looked immaculate, but it all paled in comparison to Adam.
I want to grow old with you.
He seemed shell-shocked. “Hi.”
Olive took a deep breath. It was do or die. She rehearsed this several times on the way over. She could be a rom-com queen, if just for a moment. “I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”
“What?” He furrowed his brows.
“I—” Olive frowned. That was an iconic one. Surely he at least knew that. “It doesn’t matter if the guy is perfect or the girl is perfect, as long as they are perfect for each other?”
He stared at her.
“I think I'd miss you even if we'd never met.”
Nothing.
“You complete me?”
Adam softened. “Are you okay?”
“What?”
“You’re drunk,” he nodded, like that made sense to him.
“I’m not drunk! I’m just—just a girl standing in front of a boy asking him to—do you really not know what I’m trying to do here?”
“No. But I can help drive you home. Come inside and—why are you holding a ripped-up cardboard box? Were you picking up trash?”
She waved them frantically at him. “Because I didn’t have time to go get posterboards, and I was trying to tell you that to me, you’re perfect.”
“Olive.” He looked at her sadly. “I can smell the peppermint schnapps. Whatever this is…it was probably a spur-of-the-moment decision. You won’t—”
“Anh spilled it on me! I haven’t had that much to drink. She’s just clumsy, I swear. I had one hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps, but I promise you she spilled the bottle.”
He closed his eyes. Olive scrambled, trying to regroup.
“Fine. Since this isn’t working, here’s something else: I think you’re my bathroom Guy. The one I met the day I interviewed. And I want him to be you. I want him to be you so badly.”
Adam’s eyes flew open. “What?”
“Adam,” Olive whined. How was he not getting this? Worse, Anh and Jeremy were bearing witness to a slow and painful death. At least she had the comfort of knowing Anh would avenge her. “I’m trying to tell you—to show you—” she waved the cardboard at him again. “—that I love you, actually. Most ardently, and I never wish to be parted from you from this day forward.”
He looked unwell. Ashen, even. Not at all like a leading dude swooning over the heroine. “Are you hurt? Do you need the hospital? You’re not okay,” he nodded to himself like that made the most sense. That Olive must have had a head wound.
She gaped. “No, honestly. No, I’m not okay. Do you have any idea how much courage and convincing it took me to come do this? I wish I were drunk. I should have had more than one hot chocolate. God, this was a horrible idea.”
“I…”
Olive hated the anxious look on his face. The one that said maybe, just maybe, he wanted to believe her but couldn’t. She sighed. She had already made it this far, and the job of revealing what an ass she was was already done. What was one last go?
“Adam. Fine. One more. I’m scared of walking away from your house and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you.”
“Dirty Dancing.” Adam’s tone was soft.
Finally.
“At least you’re not completely hopeless.”
Holden appeared under the threshold, dabbing his eyes.
“Don’t mind me. I’m just leaving to meet up with Malcolm again. I popped over to steal some movies, but he’s waiting for me. This is very romantic, Olive. I’m sorry it’s being wasted on Adam.”
“Thank you, Holden.” Finally, some appreciation. Olive hoped that Santa brought Holden everything he wished for.
He shoved a piece of paper in Adam’s hand, sternly ordering him to read it once he was gone. The silence between them was simply unbearable. Adam cleared his throat.
“The only way to beat my crazy was by doing something crazy yourself. Thank you. I love you. I knew it the minute I met you. I'm sorry it took so long for me to catch up. I just got stuck.”
Olive’s eyes watered. “Do you mean it?”
He scratched his head. “I…yeah, I guess I do. I have loved you from the moment we met in my bathroom, and I never said anything. It fits.”
A sound left her throat that didn’t quite sound like Olive. It was him. She was right. But Adam wasn’t asking her to come any closer either. They were both suspended in time. Adam smiled at her sadly.
“Parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched. You’re all I think of, Olive.”
“You don’t seem happy.”
“Why did you end things, if this was how you felt?”
“Because I love you.”
He winced.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I don’t think I deserve it, and I’m too scared to believe it.”
“Adam, I miss you even when you’re not around. I think of you every day when I wake up in the morning. You’re the only person I want to be with, and I don't want to waste any more of my life without you in it.”
“Is that another movie quote?”
“Kind of. Does it matter? I love you,” she said again. Goosebumps ran up his arms at the words, and his cheeks were finally dusted with pink. It gave her hope.
“Why are you doing this?”
The buried Kate Winslet burst from the depths of Olive’s soul. “Because you’re supposed to be the leading lady of your own life! But instead, I’m letting Tom fucking Benton be the leading lady of mine, and he’s ruining it for me. He’s ruining science. I’ve lost you. I can’t sleep. I can’t think. I just can’t. But I am the leading lady of my life, and maybe I’ll lose my project. I don’t know. But I don’t want to lose you, too. Journeys end in lovers’ meeting, and all. My journey of being alone died when I met you, and I really need you to get with the program.”
Adam blinked. “Tom? What does Tom have to do with this?”
She rubbed her temples. “This was a horrible idea.”
Olive turned, ready to go home. Life was not a rom-com, no matter how badly she wanted it to be.
“Don’t you fucking dare walk away,” he snapped.
“Oh, that’s romantic. Thank you.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. It took no time for Adam to catch up with her.
“Olive,” he warned.
“I have been trying to tell you for the better part of several excruciatingly painful long minutes—”
“I'd rather fight with you than make love with anyone else.”
Olive stopped dead in her tracks. So he had seen a rom-com. His voice was pitched low as Adam bent toward her, wanting Olive to hear him loud and clear.
“Holden made me watch that ridiculous movie with the fake dating, and I thought of you the whole time. The entire time, Olive. And all I could think of was how jealous I was of stupid fictional fucking characters and that they got their happily ever after, when that’s not real life. So if you’re standing here, telling me the reason we aren’t getting ours is because of Thomas Benton, I am more than happy to dismantle his existence brick by brick, slowly, just to make him feel as fucked up as I have since September 29th.”
Olive didn’t think how angry he looked or any part of that furious monologue would make it into a movie, but to her, it was perfect. She wanted one last first kiss, and she told him so. Olive had never felt happier than in that moment, pressed against Adam as he carried her into his house. But when he murmured into the shell of her ear in between kisses, her heart shattered to dust.
“I want the fairytale, Olive.”