T. Leigh - A Tragic Wreck

Olivia’s eyes roamed the audience, locking on Alexander’s wet eyes once more. She sang the last chorus to him as if he was the only person in the entire audience because, to Olivia, he was the only one that mattered at that moment. But she couldn’t continue on if he wanted nothing to do with her. As the final chord rang through the bar, she resolved that she would walk away from him if that really was what he wanted.

“Olivia Adler, ladies and gentlemen!” Mo shouted, leering in Alexander’s direction as Olivia finished the song to enthusiastic applause. Tears fell down Alexander’s cheeks as he kept his arms tightly wrapped around Chelsea, desperate to feel something for her. He watched as Olivia quickly jumped off the stage, making a bee-line to the bar. She hovered for a moment, waiting for Alexander to say something. But it never happened. He simply gazed at her and slowly bowed his head, shaking it.

Olivia felt all the wind rush out of her body. It was over. She lost him. He was going to leave that bar and marry Chelsea the following morning.

“Come on, Libby. Let’s get you out of here.” Kiera grabbed Olivia’s arm and dragged her away.

Alexander watched as Kiera led Olivia out of the bar, wondering if he would ever see her again. Wondering if he made the right decision, wondering if wasn’t too late to change his mind.

“Come on, Alex. Let’s go home,” Chelsea crooned in his ear. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A man stood in the corner of a bar in downtown Boston, looking at a sad, beautiful woman being led away, clearly too heartbroken to even stand. Nathan Roberts knew it was risky to come to Boston after all these years, but he needed to.

When Thomas Burnham died, he thought all hopes of ever finding her again were gone. But one clue led to another, which led to another, and he eventually found out that she had returned to Boston. He heard that she had been singing with a band on Friday nights at a bar in the Financial District, and he wanted to see it for himself.

When the lead singer of the band announced a guest performer that night whose name was Olivia, his heart skipped a beat. He wondered why she still went by Olivia and not her real first name…Sarah. Or, at least, her real first name on paper.

He hid himself in the back of the audience, his eyes glued to the woman sitting behind the baby grand piano. The face. The eyes. The lips. They belonged to her mother.

Then she sang, and he knew. He found Olivia. After all these years of looking, his search was finally at an end. She was there, her voice full of pain.

And then he saw who she was singing to. It couldn’t be, he thought to himself. But she had said his name.

Alexander.

What did Olivia know?

OLIVIA WOKE UP THE following morning, still wearing her dress from the night before. The rising sun peeked through the blinds, and she looked outside, hoping to see green eyes staring back at her from a parked SUV. But there was nothing. No car parked out front. Nothing. The street was empty, just like she felt inside. Empty.

Always a glutton for punishment, she walked over to her TV and flipped on the news, knowing there would be coverage of the wedding since it appeared to be the event of the year in Boston.

She was right.

Olivia watched as teams of reporters stood in front of Old Trinity Church in Copley Square, naming off various dignitaries from numerous countries in attendance. She felt her stomach churning at the thought of Alexander saying those vows to Chelsea, placing that ring on her finger, and the minister declaring them husband and wife until death do they part.

Bolting off the couch, she ran for the bathroom and emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet, dry heaving because she barely ate anything the previous day. At that moment, she knew she needed to leave Boston. Everything reminded her of Alexander. Knowing that he would be married within the next few hours broke her even more than she was before.

Raising herself off the bathroom floor, she ran up to her bedroom and began throwing some of her belongings into her suitcases. She had paid for the beach house until mid-April. That’s where she would go. She knew she was running, but this time, she was running from someone who wanted nothing to do with her. Someone that made her very presence painful in that city of so many amazing memories.

As she packed, she heard a loud knock on the front door. Not expecting company, she ignored it, wanting to get out of Boston as soon as possible.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Olivia heard a few minutes later. She turned her head to see Mo and Kiera standing in the doorway, their arms crossed and eyes wide.

“I’m packing. That’s what the fuck I’m doing!” she cried out. “I need to get out of here!” She ran around to the other side of the bed, grabbing another suitcase, and began taking more clothes off hangers and stuffing them into the bag. “Shouldn’t you two be on your way? You’ll be late for the wedding of the fucking year.” Olivia’s breathing picked up. She clutched her chest, falling to the ground, collapsing under the absolute heartache she felt at that moment.

Mo rushed to her, enveloping her in his arms as he cradled her, rocking her back and forth. “Come on, baby girl. Let it out. Let it all out. It’s okay.” He kissed her head as sobs wracked through her entire body.

“I can’t stay here, Mo. Please, just let me go. I’ll be in Florida. I still have that beach cottage. I just can’t be in this city, not when every street, every building, every park bench reminds me of everything I lost.” Olivia’s eyes searched Mo’s. “Please,” she whispered, her voice full of pain. “Let me go.”

Kiera walked over and sat down on the floor, wrapping her arms around her friend, her own heart breaking from how hurt she looked. She had seen Olivia at her absolute worst. The wreck sitting in front of her was far more tragic than anything she had seen in all her years of knowing her.

“If you really think that’s what you need to do, we’ll support you, Libby.”

Mo’s eyes flashed toward Kiera, shock etched across his gentle face.

“Thank you,” Olivia replied weakly.

“We couldn’t go to the wedding, Libby. It just didn’t seem right. Nothing about it seems right. Plus, we were your friends first. You need us more than he does today.” Kiera clutched Olivia’s hand.

She nodded, her breathing stabilizing. “I’m going to miss you both, but I have to go. You can come and visit anytime you want.”

Mo nudged her. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

Olivia smiled as she wiped the tears from her eyes, trying to compose herself.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay to drive?” Kiera asked, her face full of concern.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. It will help take my mind off things. Give me time to think.”

“Well, let’s get you on your way then. It’s a long drive.” Mo winked as he grabbed a few of her suitcases, bringing them out to her car. An hour later, Olivia maneuvered her way through the Boston city streets for the last time.

~~~~~~~~~~

After begrudgingly waving good-bye to their friend, Kiera and Mo made their way to Kiera’s house by the community gardens to forget about the past few months. They were sad to see Olivia leave but understood why she had to go. The pain in her face was worse than either one had seen before.

They spent most of the day curled up on the couch, watching snow fall outside and reminiscing about all the good times they shared with Olivia. As the beer ran out, Kiera decided it was time to kick the party into second gear, not caring that it was nearly three in the morning. She poured several shots, both Kiera and Mo needing the liquor after all the drama of the past several weeks.

“To Olivia,” Kiera slurred, raising her shot glass, tears starting to form beneath her eyelids.

“To Olivia,” Mo responded, slinging his shot back in unison with Kiera. “Remember that crazy piercing phase she went through, what, her junior year of college?” he asked after the burn of the liquor subsided.

Kiera laughed, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “Yeah. I went with her to get her tongue pierced. I dragged her to a party that night and she did a few keg stands with a brand new stud in her tongue. It was all swollen and shit. God, it was a riot. She was so much fun.”

“The two of you together behind the bar at Scotch. Jesus. I think security had to work overtime those nights to make sure no one laid any hands on either of you. I can’t even tell you how many times I saw them kicking someone out.”

Kiera sighed. “Yeah. That happened a lot, didn’t it?”

“Sure did. But, man, she wouldn’t put up with shit from anyone. She used to be so quiet when she first started working there. And then this whole other girl came out of nowhere. Once she got behind that bar, she had this spunk. Remember the time she grabbed that guy in the nuts and twisted so hard I swear the entire bar heard them pop?”

Kiera laughed hard at the memory, tears that streamed down her cheeks now tears of joy instead of sorrow. “Yeah. We had some good times.”

“Yup.” Mo raised another shot glass and Kiera followed suit. Just as they swallowed the liquid, a loud knock sounded. Kiera looked at the front door, wondering who could possibly be pounding on her door at that late hour, or early hour, depending on how you look at it.

“Expecting anyone?” Mo asked, his eyebrows raised.