Chapter 15 Duke #2
While I’d been expecting some giant monstrosity, I was surprised to see she’d come up with something both modest and elegant.
“Margaret, it’s beautiful,” I said, taking in the myriad of pink, yellow, and orange hues amidst the long, fragrant green leaves. “What is it?”
She smiled. “Daisies and eucalyptus. These big ones are gerrondo daisies—I get them imported from California—and mini gerbers.” She lowered her voice. “Those I actually grow in my greenhouse.”
“It’s perfect,” I whispered, tearing my gaze from the bouquet. “She’ll love it.”
Margaret nodded and handed it over before I could pull out my wallet. “Don’t even think about it, young man. This one’s on the house.”
“I can’t accept that,” I protested. “Let me pay you.”
She swatted my arm. “Boy, didn’t you hear me when I said that family has already paid me more money than I’m worth for John’s service?
The least I could do is this. She needs a pop of color more than I do.
” Before I could say anything else, she grabbed my shoulders and turned me toward the door. “Now go get the girl.”
I smiled, but didn’t argue. There was no point to it. And I happened to like how it sounded. Olivia might not have been my girl right now, but I was beginning to wonder if I could make her mine one day.
I thought buckling the bouquet in would’ve been enough to stop it from sliding, but I was wrong. I’d barely made it out of town before I had to rethink my strategy.
Unfortunately, that meant holding the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip while the other hand was on the precious cargo in the front seat. I let out a sigh of relief when I pulled up outside Lukas’s guest cabin.
At least I did that right.
After calling Lukas this morning, I knew he had to visit a job site near Knoxville this afternoon, which meant he’d be gone most of the day. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about him seeing my truck and getting nosy.
Grabbing the bouquet, I hopped out of the truck and walked to the front door. Though I knew she likely wouldn’t answer, I rapped my knuckles against the wood and waited.
Though muffled, I heard the unmistakable sound of her voice from the other side. The curtains next to the window snapped back, giving me a sign of life. I smiled, holding the flowers up for her to see. It was probably enough of a shock to warrant an investigation, and thankfully, I was right.
The door opened, giving me my first glimpse of the woman in hiding. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.
Olivia was dressed in a relaxed pair of tan slacks and a simple black short-sleeve shirt.
Her hair was pulled back out of her face—a look I’d quickly associated with her public, business-like persona rather than the smiling woman who drank chocolate milkshakes and laughed out loud.
Though she tried to cover them with makeup, the pale purple half-circles beneath her eyes gave away how much sleep she was losing.
“H-Hey, honey,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Wanted to bring these by for you.”
Olivia’s eyes dipped to the bouquet, but she made no move to take it from my hand. Instead, her fingers tapped against the doorframe. “What’re you doing here, Duke?” There was an edge of annoyance in her tone, but I didn’t let that deter me.
“Like I said, I wanted to bring these to you.”
“You drove all the way out here to bring me flowers?” I nodded, tamping down the anxiety coursing through my body. “Why?”
“Consider it a welfare check. You weren’t answering any of my texts or my calls. When I come by at night to drop dinner off, I never see a flicker of movement inside.”
“While I appreciate the concern, my brother knows I’m alive. You can get your little welfare updates from him.” Without so much as a goodbye, she began to shut the door in my face.
I reached out, stopping it with my free hand. Olivia glanced up, our eyes meeting for only a second before I pushed past her and stepped inside the house. “Duke, what are you—”
I didn’t stop until I was standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking around for something, anything to be out of place.
A sign she was struggling. Instead of finding a mess, however, the entire space was immaculately clean.
The marble countertops damn near sparkled beneath the early afternoon sun streaming in from the arched window above the sink.
There were no streaks on the stainless steel appliances.
All the pillows on the couch were perfectly placed, the blanket neatly folded and draped over the arm.
Hell, there was even a fucking simmer pot on the stove, filling the space with notes of apple cider and citrus.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Olivia asked, hot on my heels. “You can’t just barge into someone’s house like you own the fucking thing.”
I set the flowers down in the middle of the island before turning toward her, matching the tense energy. “It’s not your house. It’s Lukas’s. And I helped him build the damn thing.”
She gave a slow clap. “Oh, well, ignore me then. Come on in and make yourself at home, why don’t you?”
This woman was infuriating. She was clearly deflecting. I’d gotten to know her well enough over the past few weeks that I could tell.
“Olivia,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “We’re worried about you. You haven’t been talking to anyone. Lukas said you haven’t even left the house since—” Since John died. “You can’t blame people for being worried.”
She looked away, rolling her lips together. “Well, maybe people should quit worrying about me.”
“Honey, you know it’s not that simple.”
“God! And stop calling me that. I’m not your honey.
I’m not your anything.” Her dark eyes were nearly black, cool and indifferent, and so at odds with the version of her I knew.
“When a woman doesn’t respond to your text messages, it’s because she doesn’t want to talk to you. You should take the fucking hint.”
Her words were primed to wound, and they struck me at my core just as she intended. It would be easy to storm out, to let my frustration get the best of me and turn me into someone I didn’t recognize, but I didn’t waver. I didn’t let her see how much her words killed me inside.
Olivia’s anger was valid. It was warranted. While she knew his death was inevitable, she thought she had more time. We all fucking did. It killed me knowing we were all robbed of that, but none more than her.
But what I wanted—what she needed—was to direct that anger toward something. Someone. Toward me. I wanted her to get it all out because holding it in was going to make the wound left behind by John’s death fester until she rotted from the inside out.
I leaned forward, bracing my hands on the countertop.
“I’m not a stupid man, Olivia. I know you don’t mean that shit.
You’re angry right now, and I get that, but you don’t have to be angry alone.
You have family. You have friends. You have me.
” I stressed that last word, pushing every ounce of pleading I had into my voice.
“You need to leave, Duke,” she said, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”
“Olivia,” I began, but she cut me off.
“Can you not push me right now?”
“No, because that’s exactly what you need. You need someone to push you. And you need to throw all your anger at them to see that they won’t leave because of it.” I placed my hand on my chest. “I’m not leaving, Olivia.”
“You will eventually, so let’s just cut the bullshit, alright? This isn’t a therapy session. I don’t want to talk about my goddamn feelings. I want to be left alone.”
“Tough shit.” I walked around the corner until I was standing right in front of her. She refused to look at me. “Talk to me, Liv. Tell me how to help.”
All of a sudden, she exploded. Her eyes burned with fire. With anger and rage and fury. “And how, exactly, do you think you can help me, Duke? Huh? Please tell me.”
“Just talk to me—”
“I. Wasn’t. There.” Each word was punctuated with a jab to my chest. “He died, and I wasn’t there because we decided to go out to play one big happy family.
I wasn’t there when he took his last breath.
I wasn’t there to say goodbye,” her voice broke on a ragged sob.
“I wasn’t fucking there, and I will never forgive myself for it. ”
I surged forward, taking her into my arms as her cries got louder and louder. She tried to break free, but I held her as tight as I had three days ago. As though it could somehow piece her back together.
“I hate myself for that day. And not just because he was alone, but because, up until that moment, I was happy. God, I was so fucking happy. And when I think about what happened before, I want to smile at the stupid fucking coloring pages and all the things we shared, but then I remember what came after and I get so fucking nauseous that I spend my time between meetings with my head in a toilet.”
I ran my hand up and down her back as she spoke about grief and fury and all the unfair bullshit that life sent our way sometimes. She was right; it wasn’t fair that she didn’t get to say goodbye.
And the worst part was that I was the last one to spend time with him. His last words were meant for Olivia, but I got them instead. They might have set her free from the prison she was keeping herself in.
“When I got divorced,” I began, clearing my throat.
“I alienated myself. I hated everyone and everything that seemed happy when I was so clearly in hell. I’ve spent the past two years of my life utterly miserable, but lately…
Lately, things have been better. I appreciate the little things I’d been taking for granted.
Like sunshine and chocolate milkshakes and an absolutely maddening woman who doesn’t realize how much control she has over me. ”
Without overthinking, I pressed a kiss to the top of her forehead. Olivia’s eyes closed as though savoring the contact.
There was something monumental about the moment. A tender touch between friends on the brink of something more. I wanted it to last forever. Wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss her until we lost track of time and the bullshit that plagued our day-to-day lives.
But I didn’t.
“I know you’re an independent woman, and I’d never want to take away from that. I’d rather take a thousand verbal blows than exist in your silence. But if you don’t want to take it out on me, take it out on Lukas. Take it out on Grady. You have so many people who care about you.”
Olivia buried her head in my chest, crying harder. Her hands clutched at the fabric of my shirt, stretching it tightly across my shoulders and neck. I could feel her body weakening, going limp in my arms.
Without asking, I scooped her up the best I could and brought her over to the couch. She sat in my lap as I rocked her back and forth slowly. Deliberately.
The phone rang somewhere in the distance, but she didn’t move. She simply sat there and let me hold her until her eyes drifted shut and her breathing evened out.
We stayed like that for nearly an hour, me holding her as she slept. I would’ve stayed longer if I hadn’t needed to pick Harper up from school. Though I tried to be as gentle as I could as I rolled her onto her back, she blinked up at me in confusion.
“I’ve got to go pick up Harper, but I’ll bring dinner by at seven,” I said.
Olivia dipped her chin in acknowledgement as I draped a stray blanket over her body.
As I stood up, her eyes had drifted closed. I headed to the door, but paused when I heard her softly whisper, “Thank you for the flowers.”