He heard her swallow over the rush of traffic on the avenue. “What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing excuses it, Olive,” he said adamantly. “Or the fact that I’m still not great at controlling my temper. You feel it. You know. I’ve gone looking for fights since I was a kid—it’s a nice, little trait I inherited from my father. Men fight. Men swing their fists and ask questions later. That’s what I do.”
Her expression told Rory the times he’d almost lost his cool with the waiter and Andrew hadn’t gone unnoticed. “How long were you away?”
“How long was I in prison? That’s where I went.” He ground his molars together, hating this after period they’d entered. After she found out. He’d lay odds on her searching for a break in the conversation so she could sprint for safety. “A little under two years, starting when I was eighteen. On an assault change.”
A degree of color left her face. “The man is okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine now. Jamie checked. But we don’t exactly exchange Christmas cards.”
Even with the passing traffic and the ocean roar in the distance, the silence that dropped over them was deafening. “Okay, I get it, Rory. You’re not ideal boyfriend material.” He didn’t breathe as seconds ticked past. “Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “You have to go. You have to get away.”
Olive flinched but kept her chin up. “So, fine. I’m going to walk away now. And you’re going to let me go, right? You’re going to throw away my number and I’ll eventually forget who gave me this T-shirt. Fine with me.”
Direct hit. Was there an arrow sticking out of his chest? “It’s not fine with me. I never said it was fine,” he managed. “I’m just doing the right thing by you.”
“By dropping me? I kind of left Oklahoma to get away from people doing that to me, so it’s a good thing I found out early that this can’t go anywhere.” The light sheen in her eyes made his chest ache. “I’m meeting Leanne in the morning to study. We have a test early Monday morning and…I have to go. Bye, Rory.”
When she breezed past him, Rory swore she ripped off a layer of skin. His stomach shot up into his mouth as Olive moved farther away down the sidewalk, the sound of her sandals fading and blending into the traffic. Jesus, he was going to be sick. He started to go after her, already counting the seconds until he could get his arms around her, but he froze in his tracks when Olive stopped in front of the nicest building on the block. A uniformed man opened the door for her—and the dude must have seen them together, because he sent a look of distaste across the street.
Olive paused in the entrance, turning back toward Rory and all but imploring him to come and get her. But he hesitated. That doorman had the right idea. He didn’t belong within ten feet of a girl like Olive. Her college career was on the horizon and she was set up, living in the best building money could afford. So although it killed him, he took off down the sidewalk, glancing back a moment later to find her gone. Out of sight.
Feeling like he’d been hit by a truck, Rory leaned back against the closest building. She’d compared him to the family that had essentially abandoned her. Couldn’t she see this wasn’t to serve his own self-interest? If he allowed himself to be selfish, they would spend every available second together. He would ride her to classes on his bike. He’d watch over her on the beach and buy her so many milkshakes, she’d get sick of them.
No. No, she’d walked away, too, right? He’d told her everything and she’d made the decision that was right for her. She hadn’t argued or tried to make light of what he’d done in the past—because it wasn’t possible. There was no light angle, it was all dark. He’d done the right thing here. Olive was too young, her future too promising, to get caught up with an older man with so little to offer and a reputation for fighting to boot.
Go. Turn and go.
His feet might as well have been encased in concrete boots, but Rory managed to walk back to the beach, emptiness spreading a little further to the corners of his stomach with every single step.
*
Rory sat on the top step of the house the next morning, watching oranges and reds thread their fingers into the sky. He’d slept approximately eighteen minutes the night before, so he couldn’t exactly appreciate the beauty of nature. He could only think about Olive having an early study date with her friend. How was she getting there? The bus? Did she have a car he didn’t know about?