I see Cash first. His head is visible above practically every other one in the room. He’s smiling, his chin resting atop a shiny, black head. I lean a little to my left and see Olivia wrapped in his arms, hugged against his chest, facing her crowd of friends. She’s smiling like the happiest girl alive.
My chest aches and my eyes burn. I envy her. Not that I begrudge Olivia happiness. I don’t. I just wish I were more like her. In every way.
My chin trembles and I force back tears. I was never this girl before—emotional, wistful, possessive, particularly caring, out of control—but I guess being a better person, being considerate and sympathetic, can’t come without some pain. I just didn’t realize it would be so much.
I look at Olivia and see the payoff, though. She’s in a room full of genuine friends who love her for who she is, not what kind of stock she came from or how she can help them rise to a higher place in the world. She’s met the love of her life and wound him around her little finger. And she can lay her head down every night knowing she’s truly loved and that she was a bright spot in a dark world that day. She doesn’t need riches or material possessions. She doesn’t need a powerful father or a great family name. She didn’t need a fancy (and useless) degree. She’s just decent. Soul-deep decent.
“Mine first, mine first!” Cash says, waving his hand toward someone in the crowd. I look back through the faces until I see Nash step forward to hand Cash a long, narrow box wrapped in simple yet luxurious red velvet. I know instantly where the package came from. And my heart hits the floor. I have a sinking suspicion I misjudged Nash.
I watch Cash take the box he probably hid from Olivia with Nash and hand it to her. Her smile still in place, she loosens the matching velvet bow and pulls the material away from the rectangle. Cash reaches around her to lift the lid away and Olivia’s eyes get round.
“Oh, Cash! It’s beautiful!”
She pulls out a bracelet. Even from my distance and vantage point, I can see that it’s got three rows of jewels—an emerald one with diamond rows on either side. It’s stunning and will go perfectly with the emerald earrings I bought her.
“It is, but it doesn’t hold a candle to you,” he says, smiling down into her face when she turns in his arms. She hands him the bracelet, then her wrist. He fastens the glistening band around it, then raises her fingers to his lips. His words aren’t loud. They’re meant only for Olivia, but everyone is so quiet, so respectful and reverent of what’s going on between them, it’s easy to hear him. “I love you, birthday girl.” Olivia throws her arms around his neck and whispers something in his ear. He chuckles and then kisses her when she leans back. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“It’d be a shame if you didn’t,” she says, making all her onlookers snicker.
One by one, her friends and loved ones step up to hand her their gift. Some are nice gifts, some are comical, some are purely meaningful, but all are very thoughtful and meant to show Olivia that she’s loved. That’s the one overarching, undeniable theme—she’s adored. Deeply. For nothing more than the person she is. And that’s the way it should be. It just took me a lifetime to realize it.
When there’s no one else stepping up to give her something, I reach inside my purse and pull out a small square box, also wrapped in red velvet. I feel guilty just looking at it. Not for what’s inside, but for assuming the worst about Nash, assuming that he lied to me about where he was. I was judging him as though he were one of the people I’m most accustomed to in life—people who lie and betray and mislead without a second thought. I’m not used to people like these, people who are honest and caring.
And Nash is one of them.
I don’t know if he cares about me, but he cared very deeply for his mother and, evidently, still cares for his father and brother, whether he’d admit it or not. And I’d say he’s pretty honest, too. Nash is the kind of guy who would just tell you the truth, regardless of how much it hurts. In fact, he’s already shown that he will. He warned me off getting involved with him, only I wouldn’t listen. He was honest from the beginning. And he was honest about where he was today. He was with Cash. At the jewelry store. But I didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt. And that’s on me.
I slip off the bar stool to walk my gift to Olivia. She’s smiling when I reach for her hand. I take it in mine, placing the box in the center of her palm. I wait for her gaze to meet mine before I speak. I want her to know I’m sincere. I want her to see it on my face, in my eyes.
“If I could choose to be like anyone in life, I’d choose you.” I bend slightly to press my lips to her cheek. “Happy birthday. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
Her eyes are brimming with tears when I lean back. She hooks one arm around my neck and pulls me in close for a hug.
“Love you, cuz,” she whispers. And the thing is, I really think she means it.
“Love you, too.”
When I turn around to find my way back to my seat, it’s to see another tall head making its way through the crowd. This time Nash is heading for the exit. And in front of him, tugging on his hand, is the blonde from earlier. I watch until he’s out of sight and the door is closed. Not once did he look back.
Not.
Once.
I can hardly wait for Olivia to open my present and things to get back to the party portion of the night. Then I can escape unnoticed. And I need that. Desperately. I feel like I can’t breathe, like someone stole the air from the room. From my lungs. From my soul.
When the music is blaring once more and the celebration is in full swing, I cling to the outskirts of the room and make my way to the door.
The cool, quiet night slaps me in the face the instant I step outside. I welcome the shock. It makes me feel alive when so much of me feels dead and hopeless. I’m preoccupied with thoughts of getting to the car and letting loose the ocean of tears that are threatening, so I jump when I hear a voice right behind me.
“Care to give an old man a ride?”
I turn, one hand still clamped over my racing heart, to see my uncle Darrin, Olivia’s father, smiling at me from his wheelchair, his casted leg sticking straight out. Ginger brought him to the bar; I assumed he’d be leaving when she did.
“Sorry. You scared me.”
“Didn’t mean to. I saw you creeping out and I followed. I was just waiting for Liv to finish with her presents so I could ask Ginger to run me home. I’m old and it’s way past my bedtime,” Uncle Darrin says charmingly.