Friday afternoon, just twenty hours from the moment he had snuck out of Ellie's room, Oliver was on his way home from work. With Ellie's help, he'd managed to slink out of the house stealthily and undetected. Returning inside, however, was a whole different story. His daughter had wanted to string him up from the highest tree in town for deserting her. It had taken quite a while until she managed to calm down, which only served as proof that she wasn't making any groundbreaking progress with her fears; then again, he did disappear without a trace last night, leaving his phone behind him in his room, so she couldn't even get hold of him.
Once he'd put out one fire, a second started. His brother Dave had shown quite the interest in his whereabouts and in the motivation that had led him to vanish in such careless manner that didn't agree with his otherwise strong sense of responsibility. He'd made up a fib about how troubled he had been because of work, and that he'd taken a twenty-minute stroll to clear his head. He didn't think to carry his phone with him since Michela was asleep, and he knew he wasn't going to be long. Both his brother and daughter had seemed sufficiently satisfied with his explanation, and everyone retired to bed soon after.
Oliver couldn't sleep, though, for hours. The truth of his disappearance was the reason for that. He was too excited and joyful to allow himself to sink into meaningless dreams. Why go to sleep when reality was the best dream he could have ever hoped to have, for that night he had conquered the unobtainable -- his sister. Images of Ellie and him making love the way love-making was meant to be kept incessantly flashing in his mind. Her scent, her touch, and her marvelous nudity were deceptively vivid that he could have been mistaken to think he was indeed making love to her all through the night; alas, if only they weren't interrupted...
He hadn't seen his sister this morning when he took off for work, nor had he made any attempt to contact her throughout the day, and neither had she. Oliver hadn't contacted Ellie since he wanted her to make the first move. His objectives and wants were transparent and well-known to them both: he wanted to be with her and was willing to do anything to make it happen. Ellie's stance was vaguer. He knew she loved him, that she wanted to be with him; even so, last night she'd warned she couldn't make any promises; hence, the reason why Oliver was waiting for her to contact him. The puzzle that was his sister remained unsolved though.
"Suppose she decided she wanted to be with me. Wouldn't she tell me that? And at the earliest opportunity?
Especially
after last night?" he mused minutes from his parents', and now beginning to fear it was a bad omen, her radio silence. "Though the same could also be argued regarding the other possibility," he tried lifting his spirits, in vain. "That means that she's, most likely, still undecided. Not ideal, a little disappointing even, though at least not fatal. At least I'm still in the picture."
Walking down the street, the cool air helped him stay relaxed since the more he dwelled on it the less he liked his chances, for no matter how he sliced it, there was a 66.6666% chance that he was not winning here.
"God, I know it's ironic, but please help me out here. I love her so much, and I know that you approve of love." He could see the house from a distance, and his heart started drumming as he was wondering if his sister was there. "Regarding that pesky incest thing, if you're truly serious about it, I promise to make amends in the next life or... sometime. Just... I need her."
As he approached the house, he could see Ellie's Mini Cooper in the driveway. Ellie loved her car, but she would rarely drive it to their folks'. She loved the walk, as she'd told Oliver once, and though clearly not in need of any sort of diet, she believed that one could never be too thin. Ellie's form had always been very important to her. If she had any phobia of her own, it would have to be fear of fat, Oliver thought and instantly smiled, recalling their late-night talks years ago, how she'd given him such a hard time in his chunky days. He then remembered that she'd left her car yesterday for Jason to use. Her car was clearly not there last night when he was in his black opp, stealthy mode, waiting outside the house in the cold for the right moment to return from his
stroll
.
"Well, maybe she stopped after work at her place to get it," he mused, trying to quickly do the math in his head. "It's a good sign, actually. No! An excellent sign. Because if she's here, it means that she and that fuck are practically through! Yes! Oliver for the win! I knew I liked my chances..." He took a moment to bask in his victory. "Mom's car is here. Dad's isn't. Though he doesn't own a car, Dave is always here... alright. It's time to go in." He stood outside the door, heart racing, palms sweaty, and didn't make a move. "Shit! Why am I so fucking nervous?" He filled his lungs with big drafts of the chilly air and exhaled acutely, going over all the signs to make sure he indeed prevailed.
*
"Piccola mia, I'm home. Come give me a
kiss."
He hung his coat and walked to the living room. No one was there.
"Principessa, dove sei?" (
Princess, where are you?
).
She wasn't in the kitchen, either.
"Vita mia!" he called as he mounted the stairs. She wasn't there, but neither was his mother.
He tried working out where they could be. Alice had been driving Michela to and from kindergarten since her first day; it was just next to her work. So if his mother wasn't home, his daughter wasn't going to be, either.
"But her car is here," he pondered.
He looked for Dave and Ellie yet couldn't find either.
"Well, my birthday is next week... maybe it's an early surprise party?" He frowned in thought. "No, that can't be right. Dad's car isn't here, and Jack's car isn't here, and why would anyone throw anyone an early birthday surprise party? What a stupid idea..."
He plugged his phone into the charger in his room as the battery was nearly depleted. He then took off his jacket and returned downstairs. Deciding to grab a bite before calling his mom, he started for the kitchen only to stop in his tracks. He could have sworn he heard his sister's voice. It was feeble, but strong enough for him to pick up on.
"Is she here?" He tried amplifying his hearing range, tuning it to the angelic frequencies his sister would talk on. "My god, if she's here..."
He couldn't hear a thing.
He took a couple more steps before stopping again. He definitely heard Ellie this time; he wasn't hallucinating it. He trod to the patio door, and though he couldn't see a thing as the glass was misty from the heating, it was clear that she was out there. He opened the door and stepped outside. He was quite cold just in his jacket-less suit and tie. He took a few more steps, following her faint voice, until he eventually came to a halt.
Oliver was quite young, just a week shy from turning 23, but in his short life he had experienced meaningful events; events that people a few years older would normally get to experience: marriage, the birth of a child... some events in his life were not as joyous, however; in fact, were quite painful, honestly, but standing out in the cold while gazing at his sister, he couldn't think of a moment more hurtful than this.
Ellie was sitting in the bubbling hot water of the Jacuzzi in nothing but her slutty white bikini, and beside her, her topless fiancé. A bottle of what Oliver thought to be one of his father's most exclusive red wines was resting beside them alongside a pair of half-full wine glasses. Ellie seemed quite emotional to him, and he noted a few tears on her cheek; the same cheek that was cupped rather intimately by the man he hated the most.
This day turned out to be very different than what Oliver had envisioned. This was not how he thought it would end. He could feel his eyes welling as his heart was being ground into powder. He exhaled forcefully to repel his tears, too broken to even look away from that painful scene. His body quivered, not from the cold though, but from that gash in his chest. Indeed... this day turned out to be very different.
He could see Jason whispering softly in his sister's ear while petting her delicate shoulder, and he was clearly doing something right, Oliver felt, since Ellie's weeping exacerbated the more he kept going. At this moment, serving as nothing but an unwelcome extra on this romantic set, Oliver didn't even want to live anymore. In less than 24 hours from making love to the woman of his dreams, the woman he most likely loved more than any other woman in his life, she ripped his heart out of his chest and stomped on it over and over, and when they were about to kiss, Oliver knew it was time to take his leave.
As he was about to, sufficiently destroyed, his presence became known to the couple in the Jacuzzi when Ellie glanced at the house. The phony look of dread on his sister's face couldn't have hurt more, as if she'd actually feared he would see it; then again, why would he? It wasn't that he lived there or anything...
"Can you give us some privacy? We're in the middle of something here in case you haven't noticed."
It was comforting, Jason's hostility, Oliver admitted. At least one of them wasn't pretending.
He heaved a sigh, nodding at his executioner, and whirled around to the house.
"Oliver!" Ellie cried out while clambering out of the Jacuzzi, sounding genuinely terrified.
He ignored her and went inside.
"OLIVER!!"
*
Climbing up the stairs, the full magnitude of what he had witnessed hit him. If there was any living tissue in his heart that had managed to survive the blast while desperately clinging to life, the aftershock finished it off. It surprised him, how painful that spectacle really was. After burying Bianca, their week-old baby girl weeping in his arms, he'd had a lot of growing up to do, and quickly. He'd had to toughen up, if only for Michela, and although it had taken some time and significant work, he'd come on top.
The Oliver of old had died the same night his wife had however. It was a new Oliver who'd emerged from his ashes; a better Oliver, a stronger Oliver. This Oliver had improved on the old version in every way. This Oliver was everything the old one wasn't, for better or worse. Aside from his daughter, all other females were forbidden from entering his heart without proper supervision, and it had worked out brilliantly.
