Many people dream, and let it be—but Olivia Logan pursued her dreams, only to have them shattered. And doesn't everyone deserve a second chance?
When you ask the same question to yourself all your life, and it's never answered, you begin to wonder. Things like: "What if" pop up in your mind, fantasies, things you assure yourself will never happen, but are fine to dream about. But when the time comes into effect that your fantasies can indeed come true; you can't keep the urge inside yourself to do just that. I think that is what was the last straw to grip—the last of my hopes for a relationship with Nelson Childs. Suddenly all the "what if's" in the world are turning themselves over in my troubled mind. I'd just seen him recently—and whenever I did happen to see him after that in general—and he ducked away from me, into the crowd.
He was always such a social character, and yet he never came to Samuel and my parties. He was neglecting me, I was so sure of it. My whole life depended on seeing him, hearing his voice. He'd given me pleasure, but it was to a lost cause. He didn't want it to be me—he was in love with Louise Branagan, or now, Louise Childs—and it lost the feeling of my fantasy.
I wanted him to love me, not some perfect, rich, snobby woman who always had the right curves and features. But that was a foolish dream. Nelson Childs and I—together—would never be, but somehow I refused to give him up, despite my mind's warnings. It tried to tell me that Samuel Logan was for me, to give up Nelson and my foolish one-night stand affair. But my heart insisted I win him over.
"Olivia?" the sound of my husband's voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I looked up to him questionably.
"Yes, Samuel?" I asked, turning from my vanity mirror.
"Are you about ready to go?" he attained that silly glint in his eyes as he asked this, which I scoffed at. It was about time he grew up a bit. He was about as mature as my son, Chester. Though it brought a smile to my face as I thought about my son.
"Of course I am," I retorted, standing and putting down my brush, before running my hand over my hair. "Let's go," Samuel looked amused, but he followed me down the hallway to the car parked in our driveway before deciding to speak up.
"I guess your sister is more useful than you give her credit for." He intoned, that same, silly smile on his lips.
"Just get in and drive," I gave up and nearly threw my hands in the air, and then took the passengers side of the car. He got in moments later, a satisfied air around him. "So, you know the way to the Childs', then?"
I sat silently.
The ride to the house was "spiced up" with the occasional "How was your day?" or "We'll steal the limelight from Nelson and Louise!"—which made me scowl—and the ever-popular: "I wonder how many kids they have now. We'll be sure to have more." After a while, I finally told him none of it mattered, and turned to the window with an ever-present scowl to accentuate my mood.
But whilest the car-ride was far from perfect, Nelson's home, was not. Everything seemed to be glittering, and there were people sitting at rented tables that were scattered all over the back yard. They were chatting easily, and laughter rang throughout the air like a soft melody on the breeze. I sucked in my breath, watching the scene with wide eyes. Even their wedding wasn't as beautiful. It wasn't as grandeur, but it looked so comfortable and...pretty. My hand instantly moved onto Samuel's arm, accompanied by the other on the underside.
"It's so beautiful!" Samuel whistled.
"Ain't it?" It was then I caught sight of Nelson Childs. I clutched harder to Samuels arm, and he looked at me oddly. "You okay, Olivia?" I swallowed, smiled, and nodded with strain. He didn't seem to notice. "Alright. I'm going to go speak with some friends," he then sauntered off, leaving me alone at the entryway. However, I did not have to wait long before Nelson was over with his usual charming smile, asking me to dance.
He was most likely just putting on an act for the guests, but a glimmer of hope sparkled in my view, and my heart fluttered in my chest like a bird in its cage. I accepted.
Once on the dancefloor—or what was left of the lawn—all my illusions were shattered. When he leaned over to whisper in my ear what I thought were sweet nothings, he intoned this: "You're making a mistake, Olivia..." I did not accept his dance proposal to be lectured and to have him plead my descision wrong.
Since I was equally as close, I leaned in to whisper something myself, with an air of an important person who was especially annoyed. "My mind's made up, Nelson Childs. I am a parent, and have the authority—unlike you—to make good descisions as such. I was hoping to have a perfectly wonderful dance with you, no childish bickering involved, and none of this foolishness was in it." Nelson quirked a smile.
"Well, Miss, or should I say, Mrs. Cold, not everything always goes your way. But how about we play another game of truth or dare?" once again my breath caught. How did he do this to me?
"Alright," I challenged eagerly. His cheek was lightly caressing my own with a soft stubble of a beard that made me shiver.
"Are you in love yet?" he asked mischieviously. I started at the question.
"...no." I answered sturdily, my confidence building. "It would be silly to ask you the same, for you've already told me so—"
"Truth or dare is about being silly." He interjected. I nodded softly, thinking, then asked quietly:
"Nelson Childs, are you in love?"
"I think I might be," he replied with a quirky smile, as we pulled away from eachother at the soft ending of the music; the end of the whole dance for me. "But not with whom you might think." Tossing me a wink, he strode away to grab a drink. Stunned, I stood in the middle of attention, before regaining my modesty and blushing, hurrying off to find Samuel. I found him with his buddies, but I could see the tight smile and strained look to his face when he glanced up at me.
"Samuel, I'd like to—"
"I'm in the middle of a card game, we'll stay a bit longer." He muttered. I found this was not the oppurtune moment to argue, so I turned to scan the crowd for Nelson. He was by the drink stand, grinning with a slightly tipsy look to it. Was he drunk when he said that to me? I wondered selfishly, hoping that he was not. He caught my gaze, holding it with an intense look I never thought a drunken man could manage. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard Samuel saying he was ready to go now.
"Olivia? Olivia!" I suddenly snapped out of my transe and looked to Samuel.
"Yes, Samuel?" I questioned innocently. His eyes bored into mine, trying to detect some sense of betrayal written into them. When finding none, he relaxed slightly.
"I said that I'm ready to go," he replied, pulling an arm around my shoulders and guding me away from the Childs' house. I didn't dare look back on the party. "What were you looking at?" he questioned curiously.
"Nothing, really. I was listening to the music," I stated flatly, letting him help me into the car with female grace.
"Oh. Alright." He grinned at me again, that annoyingly childish grin that just made me want to glare at him until he stopped. I turned at stared out the car window, the scene at the party replaying itself over and over again in my mind.
"Nelson Childs, are you in love?"
"I think I might be," he replied with a quirky smile, as we pulled away from eachother at the soft ending of the music; the end of the whole dance for me. "But not with whom you might think."
He'd told me before he was in love with his wife, Louise Childs. But was he changing his mind about me? It brought excitement to me to think that, and my heart pounded against my ears. Samuel interjected by asking me a question.
"So, did you like the party?"
"Yes." I responded simply. The car ride was quiet, all the way home.
When we got home, the house was dark and forboding after all the lights and music at the party. Soundlessly, Samuel and I crept to our rooms. I changed, checked the lock on my door, and fell alseep.
The next morning was fairly normal. Belinda was getting bloated, and did not come down from her room very often, so we didn't see her. After that I called the midwife, and she promised to come examine Belinda soon.
It actually seemed like everything was going smoothly, perfectly...
Why do I always have to be wrong?