'Dear Brian,

Either give up on us or still be here in the morning, when you return, to talk and work things out – these are my options, right?

The truth is that I don't know what to do. Leaving doesn't feel the right thing, but I can't stay either. All I know is that I love you, but I'm also too afraid to go into this downward spiral of hurt and mistrust again.

You're right, we should always leave the past where it belongs and not judge people based on our own bad experiences, letting anger cloud our judgement.

That's why I need some time apart. A breather to focus on myself, to clarify my feelings, to evaluate us. I'm not saying I want us to go our separate ways, at least not right now. I'm just saying I need some space, time to work things out on my own.

Please try to understand and let me be for a little while, will you?

Liv xo'

* *

LET HER BE.

It had me going stir-crazy. I'm near insane, about to go into crisis mode, but that's what I've been trying to do all this time – let her be.

I've been reading the note she left me that morning every day, every single day during these past three weeks, already know each and every single line by heart, always wondering if that would be the day we'd get to the end of the long winding road we're in.

But it never was. Days and nights went slowly by and no sign of her. All I was left with was that letter and a brief sense of hope that quickly turned into bitter doubt. And the only thing I could do was wait and wonder how long it'd take for her to decide if she was ready to come back or if it was time to strike the final blow.

And now she's finally here, only a few feet away, and I can barely control the shock of adrenaline that hit my system like an explosion. I sure wasn't expecting to see her today. Knowing the time has come, that I'm going to find out about her decision is almost unsupportable.

"Brian?" A soft voice calls me from the kitchen door.

It's her, walking towards me with slow, hesitant steps, on her face a nervous smile and an expression I wish I could read.

"Liv." I force a smile too.

"How are you?" Her words are barely audible.

I shrug, I truly don't know. "You? How are you doing?"

She comes closer and I play my part. I pretend I'm a random acquaintance or someone she's just met and give her a loose hug.

But when I try to pull back, her eyes are boring into mine and her palms are pressing into my chest, which aches inside from this urge to pull her even closer and gather her in my arms.

Reaching up on her toes, she gives me a long soft kiss on my cheek. And I don't know what it means; I'm lost and confused, and it hurts again. It hurts like hell.

"Jimmy's just picked me from the airport. Oh boy, I can hardly believe it myself, that I'm actually moving here." A shy little smile seems to brighten up her face. "I'm so excited."

And she's nervous too. Her words have come out in a rush and she's fidgeting with the tip of her scarf, twirling it between her fingers.

"You are?" I try to sound natural and unaffected.

A wave of relief washes over me, though I don't quite know what that's supposed to mean. It's not that moving to London wasn't in her plans already before us, so it could mean nothing.

"Yes. It seems I'm sticking to the plan..."

I feel like asking her about all the other plans we made, but I swallow it hard and try to maintain it casual.

"That's... that's wonderful," I say nervously, rubbing my temple with my pointer finger. Stupid tic, really. Now she knows the state of nerves I'm in. "Oh, and happy birthday! I'm sorry, I didn't get you anything, I had no idea we'd–"

"You came, that's what matters. Thank you for that."

I'm confused. "You knew I'd be here?"

"I asked them to invite you." She laces her fingers together to keep from fidgeting.

"Oh, there you are!" Jimmy joins us with an open bottle of wine in one hand, two glasses in the other. "Here, let me pour you some wine. The finest reserve from Sainsbury's petrol station!"

In fact, it's a fine Rioja, one of Olivia's favourites, but she doesn't respond to the small jest. She only shakes her head no and pushes back her hair in a nervous gesture.

"Oh my God. No. No. Shit. Shit." Linda storms into the kitchen, cussing while taking the roast out of the oven. "I can't believe this! I get side-tracked five minutes and disaster happens! But did no one else here smell this?" She shoots a deadly side glance at all of us.

No sir, she's not pleased. In fact, now that she mentions it, it does smell like someone might have to end up the night scrubbing a pretty badly burnt tray.

"How bad is it, babe?" Jimmy rushes to open the window, waving the smoky air with a kitchen glove.

Linda lets out a frustrated puff of air. "Rescuable, I think."

A huge commotion starts around the counter as we all, between loud laughs, do our best to save our dinner.

"Hurry, let's transfer this poor bugger to a clean pot! Linda, tongs! Jimmy, spatula!

"Brian, hold the tray, add water to it.

"Or don't. Throw it in the rubbish bin and buy them a new one.

"Guys, come on, come on. This looks like shit, we're losing it... No, no, not on my watch, goddammit!"

*

"You sure you weren't holding a grudge against me that day? Come on, admit it!" Linda squints inquisitively at me before throwing a pillow from the sofa where she's half-sitting, half-leaning against Jimmy.

We're watching their wedding film and, against my initial expectations, we're having a very pleasant evening together. Dinner didn't go horribly wrong and we did save it. Sort of. At least we cracked a few good laughs during the crazy rescue mission we set for ourselves when Linda panicked, and Olivia had to lead the delicate procedure that took place in the improvised ER kitchen.

Back to our evening – Linda is right. I was looking rather annoyed that day. No excuses, but at the time I was pissed off at life in general, and at events where I'm asked about a hundred times when it'd be my turn to tie the knot, in particular.

Olivia points at the large screen and begins to laugh insanely, inadvertently tapping on my leg. "Look at you! You look like the three stooges!"

It's Jimmy, Simon and I talking to my father before the ceremony. We're all making these weird faces, she's right, we look like three perfect morons.

Fast-forward, please.

"Get a grip, woman! You're laughing like a crazy hyena!"

"Shut up!"

My eyes look down and find her hand, still resting on my leg.

I lay mine on top of hers.

She doesn't take it away.

A feeling of warmth invades me, and my heart begins to pound faster. I brush my thumb gently against her knuckles.

A trace of a smile comes to her face.

I try to focus on what's playing on the screen. It's the DJ, announcing the floor now belongs to Linda and to the first man she fell in love with, her father. A soft and slow 'I've Had the Time of My Life' quickly turns into a vibrating 'Everybody Dance Now' and a long medley of other cool and funky beats. Everyone breaks out into crazy laughter.

Olivia opens her fingers slightly.

Mine slide through hers.

Next, the newlyweds are now having their first dance. Linda is beautiful and gracious, the face of happiness, Jimmy is trying not to mess up the steps he'd learned that very week.

It's our turn now, it's us dancing on the screen. Olivia's dress is floating, her body moving, spinning and dipping, her hips swivelling, her quick steps following mine, my eyes following hers until we end up slow dancing in the middle of a frenetic crowd.

Her fingers interlace with mine.

I hold them tightly.

She squeezes them even tighter.

I glance at her out of the corner of my eye and find a flicker of a smile on her lips. A feeling of relief mixed with hope rushes through me and without conscious thought, I lift my hand to press my lips against hers.

She smiles, a soft but nervous smile, and then leans closer to whisper against my face, "We need to talk."

My heart sinks.

We-need-to-what?

These fours words invariably only mean one thing and we all know what it is.

"Can we go outside? Please," I ask in a hushed tone.

"It's kind of rude to leave now, no?"

We both look at Linda and Jimmy. They're so caught up in each other and in the film, they've already watched for the thirtieth time, I'm certain they wouldn't notice if we left, but it's okay.

"Right after this," I keep whispering, "can we go out and have a drink?"

She shakes her head. "I came straight from a 24-hour shift, I'm sorry. I need to get some sleep. I can hardly keep my head upright on my neck... I might even have dozed off for a few seconds already."

She has. Twice.

"I was thinking, breakfast tomorrow? Maybe at your place?" she suggests.

"You serious?! You want me to wait another night?"

"What I have to tell you is really important," she says under her breath. "We'll need quiet and time and–"

I catch her eyes with my gaze and force her to look at me. "You want me to go insane, is that it?" The sound barely leaves my throat.

She breathes out a faint 'I'm sorry'.

"If it's that important and you already know what you want to say, I really don't see why you can't do it right now!" I'm trying to make my voice as quiet and low as I can, but inside my head, I'm screaming.

"I'll be there before eight, I promis–"

"Come with me." I don't even wait for her reaction, I stand and pull her to the kitchen.

"No, Olivia! I'm done waiting. I can't continue like this, day after day, not knowing what the hell you want to do with our lives!"

She looks up at me, pale as if she might faint, and says in a small voice, "Brian, it's not that simple."

I grab both her arms, making her look at me. "Of course, it's simple! You either love me or you don't. You either want to be with me or you don't. You either take that leap of faith or you don't. You either believe that I'm more than ready to commit to you or you don't!"

With trembling hands, she takes something out of her jeans back pocket and hands it to me. "And for this? Are you ready for this too?"

I look down and my heartbeat flies up into my throat. 

***