Olive Tree (WAIK Sequel)

Chapter 9 - "You were very wrong."

I slapped Beatrice's cheeks gently and she regained consciousness. She looked confused, like there should have been a black question mark hovering over her head.

"What happened?" She asked as I helped her rise from the cold floor.

I shrugged. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," She nodded, then paused. In the same breath, she turned and threw up in the toilet. 

I glanced at the time. 6:45 PM. Couldn't be morning sickness. 

Setting up a mini bed on the sofa for her, I kept hearing her throw up and everytime she seemed to be in agony. 

"Must be the Celiac again." I sighed. 

As I carried my pale, weak girlfriend to the sofa I didn't only have her weight on my shoulders, but the guilt of her throwing up on my t-shirt and hearing her whisper I'm sorry when it isn't her fault.  

I set her down on the sofa and she eventually fell asleep. Laid awake next to her on a blow up bed, I decided to pull out my notebook and write some more song lyrics like I used to. I used to sit up around midnight, or sometime when a torch light was the only resource of light, and write song lyrics that I'd probably throw in the bin once I'd finished it. Saying that, I also used to love being around Anne, but not so much anymore. She changed once she got pregnant. She used to be fun. Always up for a laugh. I guess people change.

I set down my notebook on the coffee table to my right then rested my head against the pillow. My body flickered between conciousness but eventually I fell into dream land.

"Olly, wake up!" Beatrice screamed into my ear.I groaned and turned over to face her, proceeding to snap my eyes open. She had my laptop on her knees, and her knees brought up to her chest.

"Having the laptop that close will damage your eye sight," I eased from the bed, being cautious because I didn't want to pop it, and sat next to her. 

"Nope," She screamed again and slammed the laptop screen down. "You have to guess."

"I don't like guessing," I bit my lower lip softly and looked up at her. Then I gave in like always. "There's a sale?"

Bea shook her head and grinned excitedly. "You probably won't find this exciting but-" She interrupted herself and brought the laptop screen back to my attention.

I was seeing the site Ticket Master in front of my eyes.

"You want to see a concert?" I asked, not that impressed.

"Not any concert," She wouldn't stop grinning. Her index finger pointed to bold, curved black writing that read You Me At Six. A grin stretched across my face and I joined my girlfriend in screaming for joy. "I wouldn't be excited? Are you kidding?"

"Well you never really showed you were that interested in You Me At Six," She pointed out. "But I guess I was wrong."

"Indeed you were very wrong." 

Bea pressed purchase and I threw my arms around her to pull her into a tight embrace. I entered my credit card details in and the site confirmed that we had tickets by popping up a small sign in the corner.

"You're the best girlfriend ever," I whispered into her ear and kissed her cheek several times to show my gratitude.

"You seemed stressed just lately so I thought to bring you back to your happy place in the middle of all this wreckage. You've always soothed with music and that isn't changing anytime soon."

"You keep forgetting something," I tightened the grip around her waist and pulled her close to me. "You are my music, Beatrice Case."

Panting, I let Beatrice lay on my chest. We'd got rid of Si and Rose for yet another day so we decided to make the most of our alone time together before they demanded to be making stupid models with PlayDough. I planted a quick kiss onto Beatrice's forehead before carressing her free arm. 

"You should write music again," Bea suggested as she nuzzled her face into my chest. "You have such a talent and it's a shame to flush it down the toilet."

I chuckled at her comment and planted yet another kiss on her forehead.

Approaching the large, white building, I took in the surroundings. The sunflowers grew just outside the car park. There were quite a few of them actually. They made the area look a little brighter. I mean, I was going to a therapist. Nothing could really make anything brighter anymore. I let myself into the reception and introduced myself to a woman behind the main desk. She was behind a large computer screen, so I could hardly see her full face. She had sun kissed skin and dark, brown hair that was tied in a loose side pony tail that ran from her shoulder to her breast area. I confirmed my name and she pointed me in the direction of the waiting room. The gloomy waiting room. Everyone seemed like they were depressed. With massive bags under their eyes, they sat like zombies when a bunch of blondes walk past. They seemed to just be oblivious to everything. 

When I was greeted by my therapist, the therapy zombies seemed to stare at me. I didn't pay that much attention since the door was shut, closing us off from the outside world. 

We began talking about my early childhood. The positives and negatives. When me and my father used to take fishing trips and when I saw him beat my mum black and blue. I hardly spoke about when he commited suicide right in front of my eyes. My eyes. But the therapist understood. Her name was Grace and she was awfully pretty. With her dirty blonde hair and her hazel eyes, she was perfect to me. She baked mouthwatering angel cakes if I do say so myself. But she had a husband. Lanky, long neck and an unbelieably brilliant tennis player. Plus, she was about 10 years older than me. Still, I had a massive crush on her and when I found out she was married it broke my heart in half. Beatrice weirdly reminded me of her. From the minute she tweeted back to me till the last time she spoke to me. She looks like her, and sometimes I think it was God's way of sending me down another Grace. But she wasn't another Grace, she was Beatrice. My Beatrice.