24 | Free falling

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HERE'S THE GREATEST title in the history of self-help literature: F*ck Feelings. No idea what it preaches, but my sister was reading it the other day and right now the two words do make perfect sense together.

I've got a pain in my chest the size of Siberia, and it's consuming me in a way I didn't think possible. I'm so stupid! Truly, what on earth was I thinking? Coming all the way down here for this? For someone I haven't seen in ages, who's certifiably crazy and hates me with all her heart?

This is an effing nightmare; I should just start slapping some sense into myself. That, or hammer all these bloody buttons instead.

Why aren't you moving, you old piece of junk?

I give another furious punch on the button board, but the damned thing responds with a little jerk as if it doesn't want to go down either.

Okay, let's try this agai–

"No, wait!" Olivia says loudly from outside, then pulls the lift door open and jumps inside.

"What are you doing here?" I ask harshly, fighting to keep my composure. "Seriously, I'm in no mood for your crazy talk!"

"Don't go. Please."

"What possible good reason is there for me to stay? Want to make me feel even worse? Trust me, I feel bad enough already."

"I need to tell you something."

"Then, do it. This shit is so slow you may actually finish before we get all the way down."

"Can't we go back inside?"

"No, we can't. I'm done talking to you and I really think you should go now. Forget I came here and move on with your life. I'll try to do the sam–"

"You make me nervous too." She tugs at my hand and lays it on her chest. It's thumping hard inside. "Jesus, the moment I saw you that day when you left for New York, my heart almost skipped a beat. And then again at the wedding, it wouldn't stop racing.

"My God, that day! There you were, after all those years, smiling, so handsome and charming. It felt as if the ground was taken from beneath my feet.

"You were sitting a few rows in front of me, and I spent the whole ceremony looking at you, thinking about what to tell you, how to react once you stood before me. The sheer thought of meeting you again, of talking to you almost made me dizzy, with an awful fluttery feeling I barely managed to keep under control... Well, handsome is an understatement, you really look good... And then when we talk, I crumble. I find myself struck dumb; I either sound rude or mentally deranged. The words get all mixed up or I open my mouth and there's a flood of nonsense coming out... Like right now, for example, I don't know what I'm saying anymore.

"I'm so sorry. For everything... All I know is that when you're around I'm a quivering pile of clumsy jitters, that's the truth. And it's exciting and engulfing. Also wild, uncontrollable, overwhelming. Way too many things at the same time. Way more than I can deal with right now."

Sweetheart...

"I'm a wreck, Brian. I feel like I'm on a road heading straight for disaster, and the worst is that I don't know if I want to turn back or keep going. I spend my days replaying that weekend in my mind, daydreaming about the moment I get to see you again, imagining that you take me to dance again... and wishing you could be around to snuggle with me on the couch as we watch all Hugh Grant's movies together. Yes, I've seen them all this past week. 'Notting Hill', twice already. It's a blinking disgrace."

I place a hand on her shoulder. "But, Olivia–"

"Let me finish. Please." She shakes off my hand. "And I wake up and go to sleep thinking of you. I spend all my waking hours missing you. I wanted to see you again so badly – and not anytime soon. Not in a month or week. Not in an hour. I wanted to see you, like, right now. But then I start to think, oh, I'll be damned if I let myself fall into some bloody whirlwind again and keep telling myself it has to stop. Like you said, I'm an adult, intelligent woman, goddammit! It should have stopped already!

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