I choose me.

Part 38: The aftermath

"I smell like I've been on a plane for fifteen hours, I'll have a shower and a shave." While he showered, she picked up the pictures and repacked her bag, then waited on the couch. He came out half an hour later, dressed and shaved, then he looked at her luggage, already breathing heavily. "Just say it." He said.
She didn't cry, or try to defend her actions, he knew.

"It was after Mulligan's wake—I was drunk—" She had already decided she was going to be totally honest, "It happened the next morning too." She flinched when he struck out and punched the bookshelf, knocking it loose, sending books and pictures scattering across the floor.

"You're my fiancé! I goddam knew it!" She took his wrath willingly, deserving anything he said to her. "Did you even use a condom?" He growled and she could do nothing but look at the ground. "Why do you even want to marry me? JESUS!"

CRAWFORD

Olivia was on a plane back to California and he was on a train to Boston, it was the last thing he wanted to do the day after flying back from Africa. He was going to talk to that fucking Benny Hagen. At 37 he considered himself calm and pretty laid back, but Olivia had his heart so twisted up in her, and Benny was an endless thorn in her heart, in their relationship. Crawford turned up his headphones, trying to drown it all out. He'd made her tell him every single detail of what happened. Everything.

Every word, kiss, every touch, it had made his skin crawl and his blood pressure skyrocket. She wasn't innocent and he was angry, so angry, but he understood to a degree. She was so damaged, so young, so—prone to let her guilt and past take over, especially around him, and he knew her ex would take any opportunity to have any part of her back, especially if it put friction between them.

He'd dealt with a lot with her, a lot of hard times, a lot of things to overcome, but it'd also been the best couple of years as well. Could he forgive her? Maybe. Crawford never worried about her doing this, straying at all with anyone else. It was just this fucker, she regressed to her teenage self around him. He had had the gut feeling when he'd finally gotten to talk to her on the phone, but as soon as he hugged her, he'd felt it and could see it all over her.

She didn't cry or beg him to forgive her, she fully took the guilt of her actions, took his yelling and anger, apologized and answered every single question he'd asked. When she left, she'd just looked up at him and told him she'd be out of the cabin in a couple of days, and then said "Please don't stop loving me."

"I could never do that." He'd replied angrily, because he couldn't stop, even knowing what she had done with that—with him. He couldn't stop loving her.

Most would call him stupid, or a fool for not breaking off the engagement, cutting her out. She was his, she was there, she loved him, needed him, and she wanted that part of her life over, but she couldn't let go. He was going to South Boston to make Benny let go of her, sick to his stomach. The nearer the train drew to Boston, the madder he got.

Crawford couldn't go in there guns blazing, that would solve nothing, Benny was a hot head and a fist fight wasn't something he desired. The sky was dark, big clouds were rolling in, the train made it into the station right after one and he took a car to the gym Olivia used to own. Kiki was working the counter. "Hello Kiki." He said as charmingly as he could. Her young face was confused, but she smiled.

"Um—hi. What are you—" She glanced toward the office nervously.

"I was looking for Benny." He said, putting on a smile, "I'm not here to fight anyone, promise." Her smile still looked unsure and she pointed. He walked around the staircase and knocked on the wide door.